My Bad
Page 27
“You’ve gone to every one of them,” she pouted.
“Actually,” Bayou pointed out. “He’s gone to everyone that he could. I, on the other hand, have gone to every one of them. Except for this week. I have a meeting at the prison with someone from the state. I also have an interview for a new nurse. She couldn’t do it any other time, so I’m going to have to miss also.”
Brie’s eyes filled with tears, but they no longer affected me.
Brie’s tears might’ve affected me when we were in high school, but she used them as a weapon in her carefully concealed arsenal. Lying, manipulation—especially the tears—were all a part of her weapons base, and she knew how to use them.
Those weapons worked on most people. They didn’t work on Bayou and me any longer. Though, Bayou pretended that they did because it amused him to do so.
Brielle started to get mad when the tears didn’t affect either one of us, but that anger slid right off her face the moment the two guys walked in the door.
Ezekiel and Castiel, two of our club brothers, spotted us and headed our way.
I watched Brielle’s face.
She was a master manipulator, and honestly, it was funny to see her try to work the brothers over.
She never accomplished her goals, but she tried.
Castiel didn’t spare her a glance as he turned to look at Bayou and me.
“Glad we caught y’all,” he said softly. “We were headed to breakfast, and then to y’all. Did you hear about all that business at the hospital?”
I frowned, my heart starting to pick up speed.
“What business?” I asked, alarm starting to thread through me like poisonous tendrils.
“Apparently there was a big to-do at the hospital last night. A man with a knife got through security, killed the security guard, Mr. Montgomery, and almost took out a nurse,” Castiel expounded.
I felt my stomach drop. Mr. ‘M’ as Pru called him and I had gotten to know each other over the time I’d been wooing Pru. He was a good man, loved his wife, and loved his job. It made him feel important.
He was a Vietnam Vet who worked because he didn’t like ‘sitting on his hands doing nothing’ all day long. His words and visits had come to be a highlight in my life over the last couple of weeks. I’d thoroughly enjoyed learning about him and hearing his war stories.
“How are you involved?” Bayou frowned, looking at Ezekiel.
Ezekiel, also known as Zee, lifted his shirt and showed off a rather impressive slice to his side with stitches all up and down the length of the cut.
“I was there to get stitched up when the man came in,” Zee explained. “I was halfway stitched up when that man came in wielding the knife. Luckily, he came in with his back to me. Used that door at the side of the room? He walked right in and didn’t look around to assess for threats. I came up from behind him and disarmed him right as he was bringing the knife down to stab a nurse in the chest.”
We let that sink in for a few long seconds.
“If you weren’t there, things would’ve been a lot different,” Bayou murmured. “Holy shit.”
“How’d you get the cut?” Brielle asked Zee.
Zee looked at Brielle then looked away. “Work-related accident.”
I wondered idly which profession he was utilizing the night before.
He was a pilot for Angel Flight, he worked as a part-time sheriff’s deputy, and he also filled the rest of his time tattooing and painting.
There wasn’t a single canvas—human or other—that he didn’t make look like a masterpiece once he was through with it.
Zee, who was clearly uncomfortable with Brielle and always had been, switched his attention to the table that was next to us, then sat down, as far away from her as he could get but still be within range to talk to us.
I felt my lips twitch.
Sometimes she affected me that way, too.
But since she was technically family, I wasn’t allowed to ignore her the way Zee did.
Not and live with the guilt.
“I’m honestly surprised that I didn’t hear about it already,” Bayou stated. “Everyone normally keeps me up to date on the happenings of the city. Not to mention they’ll likely take him to temporary lock-up at my prison.”
The city didn’t have a jail. They used the prison’s temporary lock-up to house their common criminals. And, as with everything that went on at the prison, even though he didn’t run that part of the place, he knew everything that went on. A good warden knew everything, down to the most minute details.
At least, that’s what he told me anyway.
The prison was sometimes a soap opera, at least to me. Things happened there that you wouldn’t quite think should happen there. Such as Bayou knowing every single thing that happened, when it happened, where it happened, and why it happened. Not to mention who did it.
“It happened about three hours ago,” Zee said. “I don’t think anybody’s had any time to do anything but react just yet.”
“I was first on scene,” Castiel explained. “Kid that did it was a druggie. One that gets pretty desperate for his next fix. I’m fairly sure that he was paid to do what he did.”
“Who would want to kill the night security guard at the hospital or take out a nurse, and why?” Bayou gestured to the waitress, who hurried over. “Can you take their orders, please?”
The waitress turned to Castiel, who was still standing, and took his order, followed shortly by Zee’s.
“And please bring mine out,” he said. “I need to leave, and don’t have time to wait for them.”
I snorted. Bayou and his timelines.
I couldn’t wait for the day to come for a woman to show up in his life and throw his careful plans completely out of whack.
“Pru’s been telling me for a while that security was too lax,” I murmured, leaning back in the chair so that Bayou could see past me to Zee. “They said something about the code to get into the ER—that back door you were talking about, Zee—hasn’t been changed in a really long time. They’ve brought up the security protocols with the board, and they haven’t done a thing about it.”
“Well, they’re going to do something about it now,” Castiel muttered. “Or they’re going to have a lot of pissed off nurses, doctors, and other hospital personnel on their hands.”
Oh, I had no doubt that my woman would be one of them.
***
Pru
I was angry.
So fucking angry.
I’d walked into work today with a smile on my face—and even my dead cell phone hadn’t put a damper on my mood. I’d taken two steps inside, turning to offer my smile to Mr. M on the way in, only to be confronted with crime scene tape and a bloody body print where Mr. M usually stood.
My mother, who’d come in right behind me, had immediately gone into action, ignoring my horror and confusion.
What happened? A knife-wielding psych patient came in and tried to stab his previous nurse.
Why wasn’t I called? Your phone was dead.
How is Mr. M? Dead.
My mother had smiled at me sadly once she’d gotten a few minutes to herself, and had given me a quick hug, then we’d gone our separate ways. That was until I’d gotten wind of the emergency board meeting going on that was in the professional office hallway just down from the ER.
We—Conleigh, Phoebe, and I—had gone to stand outside while they talked. Only when I heard what I heard next, I hadn’t been able to keep myself standing outside like a good little girl.
“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me if you hired him just to prove a point on how unsafe it was,” Kelley pointed out.
I felt my mouth drop open in affront.
“I know that you’re not accusing my mother of hiring a knife-wielding psycho to kill someone just to hammer her safety protocol suggestions home,” I said, no longer controlling the anger or snarl in my voice.
Kelley’s eyes turned to me. “I’m sorry, but this is a private board meeting. Since you’re not on the board, I’d like to ask you to leave.”
“No,” I refused. “I’m not leaving. In fact, I think it’s high time someone around here listened to what we have to say.”
“Actually,” Bayou pointed out. “He’s gone to everyone that he could. I, on the other hand, have gone to every one of them. Except for this week. I have a meeting at the prison with someone from the state. I also have an interview for a new nurse. She couldn’t do it any other time, so I’m going to have to miss also.”
Brie’s eyes filled with tears, but they no longer affected me.
Brie’s tears might’ve affected me when we were in high school, but she used them as a weapon in her carefully concealed arsenal. Lying, manipulation—especially the tears—were all a part of her weapons base, and she knew how to use them.
Those weapons worked on most people. They didn’t work on Bayou and me any longer. Though, Bayou pretended that they did because it amused him to do so.
Brielle started to get mad when the tears didn’t affect either one of us, but that anger slid right off her face the moment the two guys walked in the door.
Ezekiel and Castiel, two of our club brothers, spotted us and headed our way.
I watched Brielle’s face.
She was a master manipulator, and honestly, it was funny to see her try to work the brothers over.
She never accomplished her goals, but she tried.
Castiel didn’t spare her a glance as he turned to look at Bayou and me.
“Glad we caught y’all,” he said softly. “We were headed to breakfast, and then to y’all. Did you hear about all that business at the hospital?”
I frowned, my heart starting to pick up speed.
“What business?” I asked, alarm starting to thread through me like poisonous tendrils.
“Apparently there was a big to-do at the hospital last night. A man with a knife got through security, killed the security guard, Mr. Montgomery, and almost took out a nurse,” Castiel expounded.
I felt my stomach drop. Mr. ‘M’ as Pru called him and I had gotten to know each other over the time I’d been wooing Pru. He was a good man, loved his wife, and loved his job. It made him feel important.
He was a Vietnam Vet who worked because he didn’t like ‘sitting on his hands doing nothing’ all day long. His words and visits had come to be a highlight in my life over the last couple of weeks. I’d thoroughly enjoyed learning about him and hearing his war stories.
“How are you involved?” Bayou frowned, looking at Ezekiel.
Ezekiel, also known as Zee, lifted his shirt and showed off a rather impressive slice to his side with stitches all up and down the length of the cut.
“I was there to get stitched up when the man came in,” Zee explained. “I was halfway stitched up when that man came in wielding the knife. Luckily, he came in with his back to me. Used that door at the side of the room? He walked right in and didn’t look around to assess for threats. I came up from behind him and disarmed him right as he was bringing the knife down to stab a nurse in the chest.”
We let that sink in for a few long seconds.
“If you weren’t there, things would’ve been a lot different,” Bayou murmured. “Holy shit.”
“How’d you get the cut?” Brielle asked Zee.
Zee looked at Brielle then looked away. “Work-related accident.”
I wondered idly which profession he was utilizing the night before.
He was a pilot for Angel Flight, he worked as a part-time sheriff’s deputy, and he also filled the rest of his time tattooing and painting.
There wasn’t a single canvas—human or other—that he didn’t make look like a masterpiece once he was through with it.
Zee, who was clearly uncomfortable with Brielle and always had been, switched his attention to the table that was next to us, then sat down, as far away from her as he could get but still be within range to talk to us.
I felt my lips twitch.
Sometimes she affected me that way, too.
But since she was technically family, I wasn’t allowed to ignore her the way Zee did.
Not and live with the guilt.
“I’m honestly surprised that I didn’t hear about it already,” Bayou stated. “Everyone normally keeps me up to date on the happenings of the city. Not to mention they’ll likely take him to temporary lock-up at my prison.”
The city didn’t have a jail. They used the prison’s temporary lock-up to house their common criminals. And, as with everything that went on at the prison, even though he didn’t run that part of the place, he knew everything that went on. A good warden knew everything, down to the most minute details.
At least, that’s what he told me anyway.
The prison was sometimes a soap opera, at least to me. Things happened there that you wouldn’t quite think should happen there. Such as Bayou knowing every single thing that happened, when it happened, where it happened, and why it happened. Not to mention who did it.
“It happened about three hours ago,” Zee said. “I don’t think anybody’s had any time to do anything but react just yet.”
“I was first on scene,” Castiel explained. “Kid that did it was a druggie. One that gets pretty desperate for his next fix. I’m fairly sure that he was paid to do what he did.”
“Who would want to kill the night security guard at the hospital or take out a nurse, and why?” Bayou gestured to the waitress, who hurried over. “Can you take their orders, please?”
The waitress turned to Castiel, who was still standing, and took his order, followed shortly by Zee’s.
“And please bring mine out,” he said. “I need to leave, and don’t have time to wait for them.”
I snorted. Bayou and his timelines.
I couldn’t wait for the day to come for a woman to show up in his life and throw his careful plans completely out of whack.
“Pru’s been telling me for a while that security was too lax,” I murmured, leaning back in the chair so that Bayou could see past me to Zee. “They said something about the code to get into the ER—that back door you were talking about, Zee—hasn’t been changed in a really long time. They’ve brought up the security protocols with the board, and they haven’t done a thing about it.”
“Well, they’re going to do something about it now,” Castiel muttered. “Or they’re going to have a lot of pissed off nurses, doctors, and other hospital personnel on their hands.”
Oh, I had no doubt that my woman would be one of them.
***
Pru
I was angry.
So fucking angry.
I’d walked into work today with a smile on my face—and even my dead cell phone hadn’t put a damper on my mood. I’d taken two steps inside, turning to offer my smile to Mr. M on the way in, only to be confronted with crime scene tape and a bloody body print where Mr. M usually stood.
My mother, who’d come in right behind me, had immediately gone into action, ignoring my horror and confusion.
What happened? A knife-wielding psych patient came in and tried to stab his previous nurse.
Why wasn’t I called? Your phone was dead.
How is Mr. M? Dead.
My mother had smiled at me sadly once she’d gotten a few minutes to herself, and had given me a quick hug, then we’d gone our separate ways. That was until I’d gotten wind of the emergency board meeting going on that was in the professional office hallway just down from the ER.
We—Conleigh, Phoebe, and I—had gone to stand outside while they talked. Only when I heard what I heard next, I hadn’t been able to keep myself standing outside like a good little girl.
“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me if you hired him just to prove a point on how unsafe it was,” Kelley pointed out.
I felt my mouth drop open in affront.
“I know that you’re not accusing my mother of hiring a knife-wielding psycho to kill someone just to hammer her safety protocol suggestions home,” I said, no longer controlling the anger or snarl in my voice.
Kelley’s eyes turned to me. “I’m sorry, but this is a private board meeting. Since you’re not on the board, I’d like to ask you to leave.”
“No,” I refused. “I’m not leaving. In fact, I think it’s high time someone around here listened to what we have to say.”
