Cyclone: A Linear Tactical Romantic Suspense Standalone

by Janie Crouch

  She’d only had one friend here in Oak Creek. One who Anne had ultimately betrayed in the worst way possible. So, when she’d been told six years ago to leave and never return, she’d honestly planned to follow those instructions.

  Yet here she was.

  Because as bad as Oak Creek might once have been, it was nothing compared to the failure her life had become for the past three years.

  She was divorced, broke, and terrified of social situations to the point of paralysis. Except for being an excellent emergency room physician, she had basically zero going for her.

  Anne sighed, regrouping at her office in the hospital. She needed to focus on the positive. Things were starting to look up. Although that wasn’t saying much, since down wasn’t even a possibility.

  Counting the positives was easy. Number one: she had a new job where she wasn’t known as the wife who still had to work with the husband who had dumped her for someone more attractive and charming, who worked at the same hospital.

  Positive number two: she had a home and didn’t have to live in a one-bedroom apartment in the crappy part of Tampa because she was so broke.

  The small Oak Creek house her best friend’s mother had left Anne in her will had taken care of that. Carol Peverill would never know how much she’d done for Anne, first while she had been alive, then in her passing four months ago. Anne would never have been able to afford to relocate here without Carol’s generosity. Now she had a place to live rent-free and a dream job taking over for the head ER physician retiring in a few years.

  And it was all thanks to generosity she didn’t deserve and could never repay. Anne sighed and rubbed her forehead. Dwelling on that wouldn’t help.

  Positive number three: Nobody recognized her here.

  They didn’t give her sly or sympathetic looks. They didn’t know her as anything besides Dr. Griffin, the quiet new doctor who had proven herself quite competent in the last two weeks.

  So what if she’d seen at least half a dozen people she’d gone to school with who hadn’t recognized her at all? Anne’s last name had been different then, Nichols, not Griffin. All her classes had been advanced, some online or with individual tutors, alienating her further from her peers. And her stuttering and social anxiety had made interacting with others nearly impossible.

  She’d gotten the stuttering under control for the most part, although the thought of social situations still threw her into a panic. Not to mention she just wasn’t the type of person people remembered. Not even a few minutes later, much less years.

  She usually wore her nondescript brown hair in a braid. Her features weren’t necessarily unattractive. She had a straight nose, pale skin brushed with freckles, and brown eyes that did their job fine behind her glasses but wouldn’t catch anybody’s attention. She was a little taller than average and not particularly curvy.

  So basically, invisible. Hell, even the name “Anne” was as nondescript as they came.

  But invisible meant starting with a clean slate, so she embraced the advantage. She already knew a lot about the town, yet they weren’t thinking too much about her. And she needed every advantage she could get.

  She stood from behind her desk in her small office and slipped her white lab coat on over her scrubs. She preferred them so she could move freely—an important option in an emergency room—but the lab coat helped everyone remember she was a physician. Being quiet, female, and relatively young meant that sometimes people needed a subtle reminder.

  She walked out of her office and down the hall to the emergency section of the hospital. Oak Creek General was one of the largest in western Wyoming, second only to Reddington City Regional, but it still wasn’t even half the size of the one she’d worked at in Tampa.

  But an emergency room was an emergency room. Anne loved everything about it. The cacophony of beeps, the movement, and people’s voices. The constant action, something or someone always needing attention. She could feel herself straighten—strengthen—as she got closer, her stride lengthening. This was where she belonged.

  She may have been a failure in almost every other aspect of life, but here, she kicked ass.

  Anne rounded the corner and stopped short at the commotion near the rooms of the east emergency wing. She’d never seen so many nurses congregating in one area, particularly not on a Friday night after the seven PM shift change had already occurred.

  Anne rushed to the nurses’ station, adrenaline already beginning to pump through her system. “Holy crap, Susan.” Anne grabbed the chart the older woman handed her. “Do we have a massive influx of patients? A car pile-up or something? Why wasn’t I called?” She should’ve been paged immediately with an emergency of this magnitude.

  Susan Lusher, head ER nurse, rolled her eyes. “You would think so, wouldn’t you? Just a single motorcycle accident. Nothing serious. Possible concussion and definite skin abrasion, although minor. Patient is awake and responsive.”

  Anne’s adrenaline level evened out a little as she perused the chart. Nurse Lusher was right, it didn’t seem to be anything dire. Anne turned to study the gaggle of women in the far hallway. “Is there a reason why every nurse in a three-county radius seems to be hovering down there?”

  “Linear Tactical,” Nurse Lusher said, as if that explained everything.

  Anne grimaced. So much for her hidden home-court advantage. She had no idea what the older woman was talking about. “Is that a gang?”

  Susan smiled. “No. A business on the outskirts of town. They do fighting tactics and weapons training stuff. One of the most well-respected facilities of its type in the whole country. It was started by some local boys and a few of their military friends.”

  “Does the hospital get a lot of business from this Linear group?” It stood to reason that some sort of shooting and fighting free-for-all establishment might bring quite a few people into the ER.

  Susan laughed. “I love how you say it like it’s a bad word. No, the boys are pretty safe and run a tight ship.”

  Anne refrained from rolling her eyes. She didn’t have anything against weapons per se, but she hadn’t expected a training ground for them in her backyard.

  “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.” She tucked the chart under her arm and looked toward the east wing. “But why are all the nurses there again?”

  “Oh, you’ll see when you get down there. Everywhere the Linear boys go, they cause quite a stirring among the female population.”

  Anne started down the hall. “I’m going to clear them out.” She turned back to Susan, wishing it were as easy to talk to people her own age as it was the older woman. “You come save me if they form a lynch mob.”

  “Oh, honey, just get one of those Linear boys to sweep you up in their extremely capable arms and carry you to safety.”

  Anne laughed and gave Susan a thumbs-up. Anne wasn’t the type of woman gorgeous guys—who evidently could have their pick of young, attractive nurses—swept off her feet.

  Hell, Anne wasn’t the type of woman any man tried to do that to. Her ex, Darren, had made sure she’d known that was true.

  She gritted her teeth as she walked toward the gaggle. She was an excellent doctor and could handle all sorts of crises. Right now, the crisis she needed to handle was getting her ER back in order. That included clearing out the fan club. She walked over to the crowd of women standing around the small, private examination room.

  She cleared her throat. “O-o-okay.” Her voice came out shaky and weak. Damn it.

  Nobody even turned around to look at her. Anne took a breath and poked the nail of her thumb into the tips of each of her fingers in a pattern, something she’d learned to help get her stuttering under control.

  Anne wasn’t needed here. Dr. Griffin was.

  “Okay,” Anne said again in her loudest voice, which still wasn’t overly loud since it came so unnaturally to her. But at least she hadn’t stuttered. “If you’re a day-shift nurse and your shift is officially over, I’m sure the patient
appreciates your support, but it’s time for you to leave.”

  Anne ignored the collective groan and took a step into the room. She couldn’t actually see the bed and patient over the throng. “As you know, since you are off duty, you are not formally allowed in the ER. So, it’s time to go. Now.”

  Anne crossed her arms over her chest and made eye contact with a number of women attempting to judge her sincerity. They’d never know how difficult it was for her to hold her ground.

  Once they realized she really wasn’t going to allow them to stay, they began to disperse. Slowly, but at least they were moving.

  There seemed to be some sort of line to hug the patient and his friends standing next to his bed. Anne could see one of them, and holy hell Nurse Lusher had been right. Anne didn’t recognize the guy, so he hadn’t grown up here, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t drool-worthy. “You take care of him, Aiden,” said one of the nurses as she hugged him. Anne couldn’t see the other two guys through the women.

  She looked back down at the chart, not actually reading anything it said.

  “If you’re on shift tonight,” she said without looking up, “Nurse Lusher has assignments at the desk. You’re needed there now.” Susan wouldn’t be thrilled to have them all back at one time, but she would handle it.

  The other nurses shuffled out, obviously reluctant to leave in case there was an emergency that required mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

  Finally, the room cleared except for Riley Wilde, the nurse actually on duty in this section of the ER. Anne remembered Riley from high school, a friendly, happy student who’d been a few years younger, but the other woman hadn’t recognized Anne.

  And then there was Mia Stevenson, also an ER nurse. Riley’s opposite in every way, Mia had been catty and mean in high school. And from the couple times Anne had run into Mia at the hospital, the woman hadn’t changed.

  She was also the person most on the verge of recognizing Anne. She’d caught the other woman studying her multiple times over the last few days, trying to place her.

  It wasn’t that Anne was keeping her identity a secret, she just wasn’t announcing it. Her married name had made that easier. Although Anne wasn’t sure anyone would’ve recognized her even if she’d been Dr. Nichols.

  Mia waited just far enough in the hallway for Anne not to demand more space. The beautiful blonde’s eyes were narrowed and her lips tight. With the room finally as emptied as it was going to get, Anne turned toward the bed and got her first clear view of her patient.

  Zac Mackay.

  All the air left her body in a rush.

  His eyes were so blue they rivaled the Wyoming sky. His light brown hair had a hint of curl to it. Hard, angled cheeks saved his face from being too boyish. His nose, broken at least once, imbued his face with even more character.

  That face and exposed chest were both a deep, rich tan, obviously from hours spent out in the sun with no shirt on. He was wearing jeans and reclining gingerly against the upraised section of the hospital bed.

  He was still as gorgeous as he’d ever been. And her body still responded in ways she couldn’t understand. Especially given his last words to her.

  Get out and don’t come back.

  As his blue eyes met hers, shock, coupled with something else—Wonder maybe? Disbelief?—flitted over his features before he pulled them into a neutral mask.

  Nobody else at the hospital had recognized her, but Zac Mackay definitely knew who she was. And he wasn’t happy to see her.

  She drew air back into her lungs, trying to figure out what she should say. Did he still hate her for what she’d done? They’d done? Six years was a long time, a lot of water under the bridge. Maybe he was willing to just let it go.

  He finally dragged his gaze away from Anne and turned to Riley. “I’m going to need a different doctor.”

  Maybe not.

  A sort of stunned silence met Zac’s remark. Everyone was looking around at everyone else, trying to figure out exactly what was going on.

  Everyone except him and Annie. They couldn’t seem to stop staring at each other.

  They’d told him Dr. Griffin would be in here in a few minutes to examine him, and he’d thought absolutely nothing of it. He’d heard the doctor clearing the room over the gaggle of women who’d packed themselves into the small space.

  But seeing her had been like a punch to the solar plexus.

  Annie Nichols. Jesus, it was almost like his earlier thoughts had summoned her.

  She looked almost exactly the same. Tall and willowy. Long brown hair pulled back in a braid, soft brown eyes hidden behind glasses that weren’t a great shape for her face. Everything about her, from her hairstyle to her lack of makeup to her posture, was arranged to make people not notice her. Whether it was a conscious effort or a subconscious one, Zac still didn’t know.

  It looked like her plan to stay invisible had worked here in the hospital, just like it had in high school.

  Except for him. He’d been aware of Annie since the day Becky had introduced them all those years ago.

  Annie was a doctor, which shouldn’t surprise him. Annie’s major had been pre-med in college. She’d been in her first year of medical residency when Becky had died. Annie and Becky had remained friends until the end.

  But she was Dr. Griffin, not Dr. Nichols. So, she’d obviously moved away and gotten married.

  Why the hell did his gut clench at that knowledge? He’d gone back to the Army after Becky had died, hadn’t been around to see what Anne had done. He’d casually inquired about her when he’d moved back to town, but most people barely remembered her, much less knew what had happened. The one person who might have, Mrs. Peverill, he hadn’t dared ask.

  Mrs. P, do you know where Annie Nichols is? You know, your daughter’s best friend who I fucked less than two weeks after your daughter died but conveniently remember very little of except for knowing it was unforgivable?

  Yeah, no.

  So, he’d lived without knowing any details about Anne and figured he was lucky she’d moved away. Because then he didn’t have to face her, knowing what they’d done.

  But he had to now. And he couldn’t let Anne be his doctor. Couldn’t let her casually touch him and examine him as if they hadn’t partaken in the most heinous of sins together.

  But he probably should’ve found a different way of saying it, especially since his head felt like someone was taking a jackhammer to it.

  “Don’t listen to him,” Aiden said, pushing away from the wall, trying to ease the awkward silence. “Obviously he has even more brain damage than he did before.”

  “Zac,” Riley put her hand on his arm, “Dr. Griffin is new, and I know she may look a little young, but I promise you, she is very well qualified. I’ve worked with her for two weeks now and am completely convinced of that. She’ll be taking Dr. Lewis’s place as head of the ER when he retires.”

  Zac didn’t doubt Annie’s ability as a physician. She’d always been the smartest person any of them knew. “It’s not her age.”

  Riley’s eyes got big. “Zac Mackay. Are you telling me it’s because she’s a woman?”

  Great, now he looked like an asshole. “No, of course not.”

  None of these people recognized that Dr. Anne Griffin was Annie Nichols from high school? Admittedly, Anne had always kept to herself, had never spoken unless she had to.

  Except with Becky. Becky had always been lively, kind, and patient enough to draw Anne out of her shell while ignoring the stutter. Becky and Mrs. P had basically forced Anne to live with them a lot of the time since her home situation had been so bad.

  “Holy shit. Annie Nichols.” Finn stood from the chair he’d been sitting in since all the nurses had left. “From high school.”

  Riley’s eyes widened, and she spun to stare at Anne. Annie’s face reddened, and she held the medical file in front of her like a shield.

  “Damn it, I knew it!” Mia’s voice screeched from the hallway. “I knew I r
ecognized her from s-s-somewhere.”

  Everyone’s eyes fell to the floor as Mia’s cruel mockery of Annie’s speech impediment echoed through the hallway. Riley muttered a particularly vile curse and, galvanized into movement, walked over to shut the door.

  Annie gathered herself and stood straighter. “Hi, Finn. It’s good to see you. You look well.” Not a stutter to be heard.

  Finn held his hand out for her to shake. “Thanks, Doc. Same to you. How long have you been back in town?”

  “I started here at the hospital two weeks ago.” Her voice was still soft, soothing.

  Finn smacked Zac on his uninjured shoulder but kept his eyes on the doctor. “You have to remember Anne, right? Becky’s friend. I always wondered what happened to you.”

  Her eyes met Zac’s. He’d expected anger, disgust, embarrassment...but not what was behind those glasses of hers now: fear.

  “Yes.” Annie looked away and nodded. “Becky was a very good friend. She looked out for me.” She clutched the medical chart tighter to her chest. “Zac isn’t comfortable with me as his attending physician, so we can get someone else. It will only take a few minutes, but since your injuries don’t appear to be critical, there should be no danger in waiting.”

  Everybody was staring at Zac like he’d kicked a small child into oncoming traffic. There was no logical reason—at least not that they knew of—why he shouldn’t allow Annie to be his doctor.

  Hell, there was none at all. He cleared his throat. “No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting to see you. Didn’t even know you were back. It’s fine.”

  It wasn’t fine. Her touching him wasn’t either, even in a professional way. His awareness of her as a woman definitely wasn’t fucking fine. Especially since she was married.

  “Anne, I can’t believe you haven’t told anyone who you were. Are. Whatever,” Riley said, eyes wide, still studying Anne.

  She shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret. It never came up and nobody recognized me.”