His heart skipped. His stomach churned, and a pained and angry growl erupted from his lips as he realized what he’d done. How had he forgotten? It was this storm, this fucking storm… Her picture was missing, its home inside his wallet empty.
Rose.
He’d left her picture in his scrub pocket… the scrubs he’d dumped into the dirty linen.
CHAPTER TWO
HE HARDLY NOTICED the chill in his bones, or how his clothes stuck against his skin, soaked and lined with ice at the sleeves as the hospital doors slid open. The halls were practically empty as he ran toward the elevators. Lucas was panting, his heart beating so hard it was next to impossible to breathe—to pull oxygen into his lungs. The shy girl was no longer at the desk, and he thanked the universe for small favors as he blew through the locker room doors with no time for pleasantries.
“No,” he whispered in a panic as he lifted the lid to the dirty linen. It was empty. A fresh bag in its place.
There was nothing to search through, but still Lucas reached in, cursing loudly. The anxiety in his chest choked him as he picked up the linen cart and threw it against the wall. He roughly ran his fingers through his hair and looked around the room. Nothing. He moved quickly as he checked the shower rooms, and his locker just in case he’d left it in there… no picture. Lucas’s thoughts turned dark. How did he let this happen? He was so stupid, too distracted, it was the last happy memory he’d had and he threw it away. He threw her away.
His throat began to close off, and the burns on his chest, his arms, they smoldered beneath the surface. And the pain he was feeling in his heart, it fed the flame that was blazing across his flesh. The soaked shirt he wore did nothing to stop the ache. He was turning to leave when the locker room door opened.
The girl in red scrubs gasped as she took in the doctor. His disheveled appearance was wild with fury deep in his sea glass eyes. She dropped the paper towels she had in her hands, and brought her shaking fingers to her lips.
She laughed nervously as she said, “You scared me.”
She dropped her gaze when Lucas didn’t immediately address her. He looked at the paper towels scattered on the floor, and the panic eased enough for him to think—to speak.
“Where did you put it?” he asked. His voice was low, pitched with anger and accusation.
“W-what?” she stammered and it only served to annoy him further.
“The linen? You cleaned? Where is the soiled linen bag from earlier?” Each question was a contained growl.
The young woman’s shoulders rolled in, her posture shrinking as she said with a furrowed brow, “I sent it down the shoots, sir.”
His jaw pulsed as he tried to breathe, tried to control his temper. After all, this woman had no idea, it wasn’t her fault that he’d been so careless. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Show me.”
Her head lifted on his command, and her lips dipped at the corners. “The shoots?”
He nodded. “I forgot something… I need to find that linen bag.”
****
They walked in a silent rush to soiled holding room. The doctor’s anger was spilling and splashing in the space between them. Evangeline tried not to notice how sad he seemed under the surface of his rage. She tried not to notice how his eyes seemed to fill with tears and then burn away a second later with fury. Eva definitely didn’t want to notice how handsome Dr. Prince was, or how his dress shirt was wet. How it clung to the muscle of his chest, or how his dark hair dripped into his blue eyes making him look younger... softer, somehow. She shouldn’t be thinking about any of those things, not while he regarded her with murder in those sad eyes.
She opened the door and pointed. He brushed past her and just stared at the two silver shoot doors. One was marked Rubbish, and the other Linen.
“Where’s the bag?” he asked, barely able to speak through his clenched teeth.
“I told you, I put it down the shoots.” She lifted her finger and directed him to the small metal door marked Linen.
His hands balled into fists, his patience was gone the minute she’d said “you scared me” in the locker room. He glared at her. “Down where?”
She wondered how a doctor who had worked here for so many years had such little knowledge of how things worked. But, then she took in his dress slacks and shiny shoes and realized that doctors don’t take out the trash or clean up the locker rooms.
“To the basement. All five floors have shoots. All five floors at the end of the night send down their linen and trash. If you lost something in that bag… I’m sorry to say it’s probably gone.” She spoke with more snark than she was used to, but as Dr. Prince’s face fell—crumpled was more accurate of a word—her heart stammered.
“Gone,” he said too quietly for the rigid set of his shoulders. He scrubbed his hands down his face, and once his eyes found hers again they were vacant, void of any feeling.
“We could find it,” she offered, and took a tentative step toward him. “The bag could be on top of the pile?”
He shook his head.
“It could.” She tried again. “If it’s that important it’s worth a shot.” The confidence in her tone caught his attention.
A shadow crossed his features as he stood straighter, to his full height, as if her words had awoken something inside of him again. “It’s worth everything.”
“Then follow me.”
The elevator was too small to contain this man and all the worry that was radiating from him. The air felt warm and thick as Evangeline swallowed down an uneasy breath. She peeked at the doctor out of the corner of her eye. She could make out his large form in her peripheral view. He had to be over six feet tall, he seemed giant compared to her small, five-foot-one frame. Eva fiddled with a string at the end of her long-sleeved undershirt as the elevator dinged counting down each floor. He didn’t speak, and Eva didn’t think she’d be able to anyway, so she was grateful for the small reprieve. In just a few minutes they would be knee deep in dirty sheets, towels, scrubs, and who knew what else. She just hoped there were gloves available in the linen room since she’d been too nervous to remember to bring some of her own.
The elevator doors opened to a brightly lit hallway, and as they stepped out into the cool, damp air, goosebumps skittered down her spine. A loud crack of thunder echoed all the way down into the basement. Evangeline jumped as the lights flickered and then went out. She stumbled backward with a small squeak and hit a wall of a human. The doctor’s hands gripped her shoulders and held her steady as the generator lights popped on, illuminating the hallway in an eerie yellow glow. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom, and for a brief second, the warmth of Dr. Prince’s hands was welcomed.
“I hate basements,” she whispered. As if her voice reminded him he wasn’t alone, he dropped his grip letting the chill in the air curl around her once again.
“Shit.” The doctor turned back to the elevator and pressed the up arrow. When it didn’t light up immediately he began to press it over and over again. “Shit.” He repeated as his thumb jabbed at the button.
“Power is out, but don’t worry…” Despite her own fear, her lips split in a smile as she said, “The stairs are right here.”
Eva took the few steps needed to reach the door to the stairwell. “See.” She tried the knob, but it was locked. Her heart skipped, but then she noticed the badge key. She lifted her name badge to the black box. Normally, it would beep, and the door would unlock, but it was silent and the door still wouldn’t open. “I don’t understand.” She swiped her badge again. Locked.
Trapped.
“Maybe you don’t have access,” Dr. Prince said, with a little more arrogance than she thought necessary, and placed his hand in his pants pocket. “Damn it.” He checked his other pocket, then the pockets of his jacket, every pocket he tried came up empty. “I think I left my badge in my bag, along with my phone...” He ran his hands through his hair and growled, “Which is in my car.” He eyed Eva, his jaw ticking.
&nbs
p; She sighed. “My phone is on my desk upstairs.”
Evangeline looked around as she called out, “Hello, anyone down here?” She moved quickly down the narrow hall. All the doors were locked. There wasn’t a soul left to help them. Someone had to come eventually; a janitor, someone with keys to the stairwell, someone who had to sort through the linen, regardless of the power outage.
Dr. Prince swore so loudly it reverberated off the basement walls. Eva thought about staying at the other end of the hall. Far away from the linen room door, and the man who looked ready to punch something as she approached him.
“It’s fucking locked,” he shouted.
Eva couldn’t help but lower her eyes to the floor as she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
He huffed a defeated breath, and rested his back against the door. “It’s not your fault.”
His tone, the firm set of his jaw, and the tight line of his lips suggested otherwise. She could almost hear his thoughts as his body sank to the floor. His back slid down the metal door until he was sitting on the cold concrete. The small amount of optimism she’d seen in his eyes earlier had evaporated along with the hope of getting out of here anytime soon. He was blaming her. Blaming her for losing whatever this precious thing was, this item he had so easily left behind. The way those blue-green eyes assessed her with such irritation, she wondered how he could even stomach talking to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“So am I.”
The apology wasn’t for her.
She wasn’t sure if it was the fact that he was looking at her as if she had destroyed his world, or that she was trapped with the “beast” in the damn basement, but her eyes began to pool with tears as she turned away from his hateful stare.
CHAPTER THREE
DR. PRINCE WAS too busy ignoring Evangeline to notice her blatant stare. About thirty minutes ago she gave up trying to remember the lyrics to the song she’d heard on the radio that morning, and had chosen to hum one of her favorite songs instead. But humming, it seemed, had begun to annoy even her. So instead, she decided to catalog every detail of the man sitting across the tiny hallway. She liked that his dark hair was cropped short on the sides and was longer on the top. She especially liked when he ran his fingers through it. The messier it got, the more appealing it became. His eyes, she finally decided about twenty minutes ago, before he’d closed them, were definitely aquamarine, and even in the low light they shined. But, it was after her tears had dried up, just as soon as the doctor had removed and offered her his coat to sit on, that his features had given way to a kinder nature. The doctor had smiled when she’d thanked him. She’d figured guilt was more responsible for his chivalry than actual kindness or caring, but she’d taken it, nevertheless.
They’d been stuck down in the bowels of the hospital for who knows how long, and besides his humble gesture, and her timid thank you, it had been silent. She’d chosen to hum only to relieve the tension between them, to break the ice. Maybe he’d ask her what song she’d been humming, and then she could ask him how he liked being a doctor. But no such luck. Eva had observed Dr. Prince as he exhaled and inhaled boredom rather than actually speak to her. His movements had only been to relieve the stillness in which he sat. Now, his head leaned against the wall. The doctor’s eyes were closed, his thick lashes fanning down over his high cheekbones. He was a beautiful man, and she hated to admit it, but she enjoyed watching his chest rise and fall with even and calm breaths.
“I think I like your humming more than I do your staring,” he said and Eva felt heat bloom across her cheeks. He cleared his throat and opened his eyes.
“I wasn’t staring,” she lied and dropped her gaze to her hands that were now wringing in her lap.
He chuckled and something shifted in Eva’s chest. “Do you prefer Evangeline or Eva?” he asked as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves.
She looked down at her name badge, too pleased with how her name sounded in his deep, gruff voice. She shoved down the warmth that had blossomed in her stomach and steeled herself, her tone, as she said without any inflection, “I’m indifferent.” His eyes met hers and when she smiled he looked away. “Do you prefer Dr. Prince or Your Highness?” she asked as she cocked her right brow.
This time the doctor laughed openly. His head tilted back and Eva couldn’t help but admire the expanse of his throat. His jawline was peppered with a five o’clock shadow that dipped down his neck. It was a crazy thought, but she longed to touch it, to see if it was as rough as his usual demeanor. She pressed her lips together trying not to give in to her urge to laugh, too. Dr. Prince was just a man, after all. They were both stuck in this situation together; tired, hungry, and, even though he was unnaturally handsome, he was beginning to look worse for the wear, just as much as she was. Sitting on the cold concrete floor of a hospital basement was the quickest way to strip way any pretense.
“I prefer Lucas,” he said with a rare small smile that caused her stomach to flutter.
“Lucas.” She chewed on the word and nodded her head.
“How long have you worked at County?” he asked.
Eva tried not to focus in on the slight dimple that had formed in his left cheek as she said, “Just three months… what about you?”
“Too long, a little over seven years.” He rolled his neck to the left and then the right with a long exhale.
“Do you like it?”
“On most days.” He fixed his eyes on her mouth. “Tonight… not so much.” He frowned and drifted his eyes down to the cuff of his sleeve.
It wasn’t necessarily that she wanted to hear his voice, or that its tenor made her feel like a school girl, it was more that she’d grown tired of the awkward silence. She decided, regardless of whether or not the doctor’s attention was now on the sleeve of his shirt, that she would just talk. “If you must know, I moved here from Florida in July.”
His laughter was soft as he smiled and said, “Why the hell did you move here?”
“I needed a change.”
It was only a half-truth, but the truth, nonetheless. Dr. Prince… Lucas… didn’t need to hear her sob story about heartbreaks and small towns. She left one hole in the wall for another, but at least here she had a new start.
He nodded and his smile faded. “Don’t we all.”
He rolled up the sleeves of his white button down to the elbow, but she’d been so transfixed with his smile, and how his lips appeared so soft, even stretched across his perfect teeth, that she hadn’t noticed the scars… not right away. Her eyes naturally glanced down to the movements of his hands as he maneuvered the shirt up his arm. She bit back her gasp as his ruined skin was unveiled. Eva allowed her eyes to linger over the burns on his right arm only for a second, but it was long enough he’d noticed.
“It’s an interesting thing, seeing how people react to this.” He held up his right arm, the dim light seemed to spotlight the white and pink raised skin. “But, I have to say, your reaction has to be my favorite.” His tone was utterly joyless, that gorgeous smile, that laugh, they’d fallen dead to the floor as he scanned her features. “Tell me, Eva, is that actual horror in your eyes?”
****
Lucas glared at the girl unapologetically as she shifted, and the color in her cheeks paled.
“No,” she said in a tight whisper, and it was then he noted the tears brimming on her lashes. She held his gaze as she said, “I was just surprised. It was rude of me to stare, I’m so sorry.”
She was too kind and he was an asshole. It felt good to hurt people, to make them feel pain. Lucas suffered every day. Why shouldn’t everyone else? But, for some reason, this woman, and her tear-filled, brown eyes had made him want to be something other than an arrogant prick for once. He raised his legs and rested his forearms on his knees as he closed his eyes. “Don’t be sorry, at least not to me.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Her voice sounded more confident than before so he allowed himself to face her and opened his
eyes.
“It means… I’m an asshole.” He lowered his gaze to his arm, and let it slide over the burnt flesh. He let himself go back to that night five years ago, a night so much like this one. He let his heart remember Rose, and the screaming and the pain. “It means I don’t deserve that apology. It means you shouldn’t look at me like that…” It was a struggle to breathe, to speak past the narrowing of his throat. “You shouldn’t look at me with sorrow. I deserve worse than these scars.”
Lucas kept his eyes trained on the ruin of his skin, unable to bear whatever thoughts she’d tried to hide in those transparent eyes.
“W-what happened?” she breathed.
If the basement hallway hadn’t been so quiet, so still, he would’ve never heard her question. The bile in his stomach roiled. Lucas hadn’t told anyone what had happened to him and his family five years ago. People knew. Everyone in this town had some idea of the night’s events, but he’d never spoken of it. Not after he’d awoken in the hospital’s burn unit, not after he’d buried his family, his love, his life. He’d never uttered a word about the night he’d lost it all.
“Do you think if something is never confessed that a person can ever truly be forgiven?” The doctor’s heart sprinted inside his chest, hoping, dying to be free of the burden, but as Evangeline’s eyes met his, he suddenly wished he’d left his ghosts inside the car with his badge and cell phone. The thought of offering her the weight to sink with him, this girl…
“I think in order to live, you have to let go.” As she spoke, even though her lips trembled, the words held steady. She was stronger than he’d given her credit for, and Lucas desperately wanted to lean against the pillar she offered him.
Beast: An Anthology Page 17
