Steel: (#5 The Beat and the Pulse)

by Amity Cross

  Slipping my phone back into my pocket, I pushed to my feet and ventured out of the cubicle. Turning on a tap over the basins, I washed my mouth out and splashed my face. Puking in the bathroom and agonizing over a guy? What was the world coming to? Holly Walsh was about one thing and one thing only. Her patients.

  Time to do what I did best. Get the fuck on with it.

  * * *

  “You look like shit,” Gunner declared as she caught sight of me shuffling through the cafeteria.

  “Thanks,” I replied, rolling my eyes. Sinking into the chair opposite her, I took a couple of deep breaths. I still felt queasy after throwing up earlier.

  “Are you okay, Blue?” she prodded, her perfectly plucked eyebrows knitting together. How she had time to whip out a pair of tweezers was beyond me. “You look a little gray.”

  I grunted and snatched her bottle of water from the table. Taking a mouthful, I felt the cool liquid run down my gullet and into my uneasy stomach.

  “I know you’ve been here longer than you ought,” she scolded. “You need to clock off, and go get some proper sleep. You’re no good to the hospital when you’re a zombie.”

  “I’m fine,” I lied. “I’ve just got a heavy patient load at the moment.”

  Gunner didn’t seem convinced. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything you want.”

  “I know,” I replied, leaning my forehead on my hand. “I know.”

  “I had an interesting morning in the ER yesterday if you want to hear a cool story,” she said like she knew the greatest secret of them all. “It might take your mind off things.”

  So it had been yesterday that I’d seen Josh. Glancing out the window at the daylight beyond, I knew it was in my best interests to get outside and take a break from the halls of the hospital. It felt like I’d been here for two weeks straight. Truthfully, I probably had.

  “Well?” Gunner asked, clicking her fingers in front of my face. “Want to hear?”

  I grunted. “Sure. Let it rip.”

  “I found your hottie in the ER yesterday,” she said, watching my expression.

  “What?” I straightened up. “But his chart—”

  “He was waiting for you, I think,” she said, interrupting me. “He seemed vague about why he was sitting there.”

  “He was just sitting in the ER?” I asked, frowning. Why would he do that? There could be any number of reasons.

  “Are you into him?” she went on. “Because if you really are, you’ll have to be the one who does the chasing.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I kind of already knew the answer, but I asked anyway. I had his number, but he had no way of contacting me short of coming to the hospital in person. I didn’t think he’d be the type of guy who’d come back outside of his appointment to get his cast off…or be on the market for very long.

  “I asked him if he wanted me to give you a message, and he said he thought it wouldn’t work out between you two.”

  I felt like throwing up again, but this time, for a very different reason. Keep pushing them away, Holly. Great job.

  “I reckon it’s more to do with him,” Gunner rambled on. “He looks very blue collar, you know? You’re a superstar surgeon.”

  “Are you saying he thinks his balls are going to shrink if he’s with a woman who has a better job than him?” I asked, suddenly feeling really pissed off.

  I hadn’t even thought about that being a divide between us. I thought I was the one who was too broken and pathetic to even think about dating a guy who looked like a bloody fitness model. I’d wondered why a guy like that would even want to touch a woman like me. And my brains emasculated him? The world was crazy. Totally crazy. Either that or my entire thought process was scrambled from lack of sleep.

  Gunner was laughing at me so hard people were starting to turn in their chairs to gawk at us.

  “What?” I hissed at her.

  “You always jump to the worst conclusion,” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I got the impression he thought he wasn’t good enough for you. Not the other way around, you crazy kid.”

  My expression softened as I let the thought sink in. I intimidated Josh? Was that even possible?

  I hardly knew the guy, but maybe I should make more of an effort. Take some time off, recharge and call him. He did say I could use his number for anything. Did that extend to dates? There was only one way to find out, but my first port of call was the Chief’s office to fess up to my maxed out hours.

  Shoving Gunner’s water back across the table, I rose to my feet. “I’ll catch you later.”

  “I hope you’re going to get laid,” she called out after me. “You need it.”

  13

  Josh

  I’d been home for two days, and I was already wasting away.

  I couldn’t even go to the gym to burn off some steam, and I was chomping at the bit for some kind of action. With no place to go and no one to report to, I had an excess of time…and energy. Two things I didn’t want to have at the same time.

  There was little I could do considering my residual tenderness post-hospital. I’d done some cardio, but it all felt pointless while my ribs were still aching, and I didn’t even want to get started on my arm. I’d been relegated to shoving it into a plastic bag while I showered for at least the next three to four weeks.

  So when I found myself getting in the car and driving to The Underground, I wasn’t surprised. I couldn’t fight, but I could at least watch and soak up the violent atmosphere.

  As per its usual form, the place was pumping. The bookies were shouting over the din, calling out the odds for the fights that were lined up for the night. The bar was packed five deep as the liquor flowed in a nonstop carousel of debauchery.

  Sitting in a quiet place on the bleachers that surrounded the focal point of the warehouse, the cage, I watched as two of the more popular fighters—Goblin and Blade—danced around each other. The spotlight was on them, the crowd was bunched around the chain-link screaming for blood…just a typical night in this place. Life had gone on without me, but I’d never been up there in the ranks to warrant any extra attention. I was a mid-lister. Forgettable unless I was winning or failing spectacularly, and fuck, had I failed.

  “Steel.”

  Glancing up, I caught sight of Max, the head honcho of The Underground, leaning up against the side of the bleachers, staring at me like I was a moron.

  I raised an eyebrow, not liking the fact he’d sought me out at all.

  Pushing off the edge, he came and sat next to me. “When I heard you were out here, I just had to come and see for myself and lo and behold.” He spread his arms wide.

  “So?” I asked, cradling my broken arm in my lap.

  “So? Last time I saw your ugly mug, it was beaten to a pulp.”

  I glared at him out the corner of my eye. “And I got over it.”

  Max snorted. “Guys who get beaten like you don’t come back. The last guy Maverick put down is still eating through a straw and pissing through one, too.”

  “Well, I guess I got lucky,” I drawled, casting my gaze over the cage where another fight was getting ready to start.

  “More than lucky if you ask me. Even stupider coming back here.” He looked me up and down. “You’re fucked in the head, you know that?”

  I shrugged. “Don’t know any other way to be.”

  “Death wish is what you’ve got.”

  I caught the undercurrent in his statement loud and clear, but fucked if I was going to let him shove me around like a pathetic nobody. He thought I was coming here for a slow burn kind of revenge? I’d come here because I was bored and had no place else to go and rot, but the fact that he’d sought me out to lay the hard word on me through cryptic jabs at my mental well-being was just bullshit. He could go fuck himself. Fuck the ramifications.

  “Last thing I remember was Maverick punching me in the face,” I said slowly, not bothering to look at the son of a bitch. “Then I wake up
in hospital, can’t feel my fucking legs, and some doctor tells me I was left out on the street. No hello, no nothing.” I glanced at Max, but his expression was closed. “What am I meant to make of that?”

  “You’re not dead,” he replied stonily. “And looks like you can walk just fine to me.”

  “Better stay that way,” I muttered.

  Max rose to his feet and brushed off his jeans. Watching the crowd mill about, he smiled to himself before glancing down at me. “I’d be real careful about what you do next, Steel. Real careful.”

  That was a threat if I ever heard one.

  I wasn’t stupid enough to assume the horror stories about this place weren’t true. Guys died in the cage. They were crippled, and they got brain damage. No regulations, minimal medical assistance on site, and no rules. It was a hotbed of violence. Everyone knew it, and things weren’t sugarcoated when I signed up. I knew the risks so it was on me if I got myself hurt.

  Charlie had said to keep my mouth shut if I wanted to keep on breathing, and from the way Max had just verbally smacked me down in ten words or less had solidified the notion. Charlie was a cop, so she’d know.

  I watched his back as he thumped down the bleachers and dissolved into the crowd like the demon he was. I’d been sitting here oblivious to everything around me, but now that my attention had been brought to the whispers, I felt eyes on me. Vicious, gossiping, threatening eyes.

  What was I doing here?

  Overly conscious about my aching jaw, ribs, and the stupid cast on my arm, I rose to my feet, my expression pure darkness. Assholes. Who needed them.

  Jumping off the edge of the stands, I elbowed my way through the throng of people, not giving a shit who I pissed off. I heard a few choice words as I strode from the warehouse. Once I felt the cool night air on my skin, I let out the tension across my shoulders.

  Thieves, bastards, thugs, criminals, low life scum of the earth. How could I think I ever belonged here? After everything, The Underground felt like the place I deserved to be—not that I wanted it, but that was beside the point. People like me belonged in places like that. Didn’t they?

  Taking a deep breath, I listened to the muffled sound of the crowd inside and stared up at the sky. The stars shone through the light pollution of the city—but only just—and I found myself thinking about Sparks. What would she make of all this? It’d probably scar her for life, and it was just another reason we weren’t made for one another. Maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t called.

  Leaning against the wall, I narrowed my eyes as a group of young men walked past me. They glanced between themselves before sizing me up.

  “That’s that Steel guy,” I heard one of them mutter.

  “The dude who got his ass beat?”

  Rolling my eyes, I turned away from them as they disappeared into the warehouse. Maybe I was a fucking idiot for coming back here. I’d been so desperate to prove myself, to get a little bit of money and respect, but all I got was my ass beat into hospital. What was I meant to do when I wasn’t even able to fit in at The Underground?

  Still as fucking lost as ever. Don’t you move, boy.

  My phone began to ring in my pocket, vibrating against my leg, and I jumped, my heart hammering in my chest. I was almost expecting a gunshot to split the air, but it was the stupid default tone on my iPhone.

  Yanking it free, I glanced at the screen. I didn’t recognize the number, and my first thought was Sparks. I hoped it was her because when I slowed the fuck down and thought about it over the last two weeks, her face was the only one I’d hoped to see just as much as my Mum’s…and that was saying something considering the state I’d been in.

  Pressing the green button on the screen, I slid the phone against my ear and said, “Yeah?”

  “Josh?”

  I straightened up at the sound of her voice. “Sparks?”

  “Yeah.” She paused on the other end, and there was silence.

  “You okay?” I asked once I got my head back on straight.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replied, but there was still a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

  “How’s things?”

  “Good…”

  I smiled and shook my head. For a big-time doctor, she sure beat around the bush like a shy little girl.

  “Why’d you call, Sparks?” I asked.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “I’m not good at this.”

  “What? Talking on the phone?”

  “No. Non-doctor stuff.”

  “Well, I ain’t judging. Spit it out, Sparks.”

  “I’ve got the next few days off,” she said with a sigh. “I worked too many straight, and they told me to go home for a while.”

  Leaning against the wall again, I asked, “Yeah? Sounds about right. You were always hanging around while I was there.”

  “I was thinking,” she began, but there was a pause like she still was second-guessing herself.

  “You were thinking…” I prodded, a smile curling my lips.

  “Do you want to get together?” she asked, her words running into one another. “If you’re not busy, that is.”

  I laughed, my earlier run-in with Max fading into the background. “I’m not busy, believe me.”

  “Yeah?” She sounded hopeful, and I wondered why she cared so much.

  “Just tell me when and where, and consider it done.”

  “Tomorrow night?” she asked, the tone in her voice picking up. “Dinner maybe?”

  I could just imagine dinner being at a fancy restaurant that served tiny portions of handcrafted art, so I said, “Leave it with me, Sparks. I’ll take care of you.”

  There was a sigh on the other end of the line. “Should I be worried?”

  “Nup,” I replied with a smile. “Just hold on tight.”

  “Then how come I don’t believe you, Josh Caplin?”

  “So suspicious for a little firecracker.” I laughed and pushed off the wall. “Time to let go a little and live, Holly Walsh. Wear sensible shoes.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath, the sound amplified through the phone.

  “Tomorrow,” she murmured.

  “Tomorrow,” I said forcefully. “Good night, Sparks.”

  “Good night…”

  I disconnected the call and dropped my phone back into my jeans pocket. Sparks wanted to see me after all. I hoped it was for the right reasons because I really needed something to go my way for a fucking change.

  If she was into me, it was going to be because of me, not some mythical version she thought she wanted. Thinking about the sorry state of my life, I wasn’t sure she needed to know about certain things. Those could stay in the past where they belonged.

  Sparks better hold on because I was going to take her for one hell of a ride.

  14

  Holly

  When Josh told me to meet him at seven sharp by the Information Kiosk at Federation Square in the city, I had no idea what he’d planned.

  I’d spent hours agonizing over what to wear, especially what looked good with ‘sensible shoes’. In the end, I’d settled on a loose tunic shirt made from back chiffon that hung on my lean frame just right, a pair of skinny jeans, and some black lace-up boots that had zero heel. Sensible yet stylish.

  I wasn’t even going to linger on the fact that I had spent twice as long shopping for fancy lingerie, and then, when I got home, trying on the five different sets I’d bought when I couldn’t decide. Not that I thought sex was a sure bet, but I could hope, right? It didn’t hurt to be prepared.

  I left my hair out but took the time to straighten it, and against my dark outfit, it looked more coppery than usual. Then I topped it all off with a spritz of perfume and a little bit of color on my lips.

  Watching the electronic billboard that sat over the pub across the street as it flicked through different advertisements, I let the sounds of the city wash over me. The hum of thousands of people as they surged from the train station opposite, the muffled sound of arrivals and
departures from the platform, the rumble of trams as they rolled across their tracks, and the ding of their bells as they came into the stop in front of me. The distant wail of a siren and the thump of music from the bar behind me in Federation Square topped it all off like a cherry. It was a side of Melbourne I hadn’t had time to see outside of life at the hospital. I had no idea any of this was here, and the thought of exploring it with Josh made my skin tingle with anticipation.

  “Sparks.”

  Turning at the sound of Josh’s voice, I found him behind me just as tall and handsome as I had remembered, and my heart began to flutter. I’d gotten used to seeing him in his hospital gown, and it had hardly registered the other day when he had sat with me outside the ER that he was in his ordinary clothes. Now, he wore a dark gray shirt with the top few buttons undone, so I had a nice view of his smooth chest. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his muscled arms and the white plaster cast that was still on his right. Black washed-out jeans and artfully scuffed up boots completed his ensemble. Simple but sexy as fuck.

  “I see you heeded the warning,” he murmured, standing close.

  “What?” I asked, my head spinning.

  His lip curled into a sexy smile. “Sensible shoes.”

  I felt my cheeks heat, and I glanced away, suddenly feeling like a sixteen-year-old version of myself on a first date. I was thirty for fucks sake.

  His gaze traveled the length of my body and back up again, making me squirm even more. Raising his left hand, he picked up a strand of my hair and smiled. “You look beautiful.”

  Three simple words, but they had the desired effect.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t know,” I replied. “My stomach is churning.”

  He laughed and threaded his fingers through mine, giving me a tug forward. “I know a little place down by the water,” he said.

  My skin tingled as he tightened his grip. “Sounds good. Let’s go, then.”