Fighting Lust: A Deadly Sins Novel

by Jennifer Miller

  “You better hope Coach Gil doesn’t find out you downed one, or he’s going to kick your ass,” I add. “You know he hates that kind of shit. They aren’t good for you. Did you even look at the caffeine content? Not to mention the sugar in one of those things.”

  “You’re going to lecture me on what’s good for me?” Levi asks with a laugh. “How drunk did you get last night, and how many chicks did you tag?”

  “First of all, you wish you knew,” I begin until I’m rudely interrupted.

  “He bagged two. I saw them leaving his place this morning,” Cole helpfully offers while holding his hands out in front of him indicating their large chests. Classy.

  I stare at Cole, displaying aggravation I don’t really feel. “Thanks, for the support. Remember my offer earlier? Well, I take it back.” Just as I finish my sentence, my cell phone chimes loudly. I ignore it, and stash it and my bag in a locker.

  “What offer?” Zane asks.

  I ignore him too. “Second of all, sex isn’t bad for you, Levi, it has untold benefits – scientifically speaking and otherwise, so if you think it is, there’s no hope for you.”

  “Maybe not sex, exactly, but I don’t think that a different girl every night is good for you.”

  Looking hard at Levi, I demand firmly, “Don’t go there.” He looks away and I clap my hands loudly already regretting my harsh tone. “Alright, who’s ready to get this show on the road?”

  Cole surprises me by snagging my phone from the locker shelf just before I close the door. He’s lucky I didn’t slam the door on his hand. Would serve him right. “Another sext, I knew it!”

  The guys rush over and gather around my phone and Cole to get a look, “Holy shit,” Dylan laughs.

  “Yeah, I know right? He doesn’t even know who it is! Hell, this could be a different chick all together. He gets like a zillion of these a day.” Cole shakes his head in amazement.

  “Dude. Nice.” That’s Zane’s two cents.

  “What the hell is going on in here?” a voice booms from the door drawing all of our attention away from the phone. We look up to see Jax standing there with Tyson at his side. Jax is all seriousness, but Tyson has a goofy grin on his face and is mimicking Jax’s stance behind his back.

  “What are you guys looking at?” Tyson asks.

  Yanking my phone out of Cole’s hands, I put it back on the top shelf of the locker before closing and locking the door. “Nothing. Just a bunch of guys acting like they saw a pair of tits for the first time.”

  Jax’s brows raise, “Do I even want to know?”

  Tyson laughs, “I do.”

  He gets his wish. I hang back as they walk out to the gym to begin training, Cole filling in Tyson on this morning’s antics. Tyson finds it amusing and treats me like it’s some badge of honor, but the truth is, it’s anything but. It’s sad, and lonely and not at all the life I thought I’d be living right now. I can’t help but wonder what they would think about Ryder ‘Playboy’ King if they only knew.

  “Alright, Mr. Grigorio, I understand the doctor was just in to see you and explained that you’re going to need surgery in order to remove the item wedged in your anus.”

  He nods and I do my best to remain composed, professional. After all, at this point I’ve seen it all. Truth is, it isn’t that hard not to see the humor because I’m anything but easily amused at this point in my day. I’m now approaching my fourteenth hour of what was supposed to be a twelve-hour shift. Delirium is starting to set in, and I’m ready to get the hell out of here. As shift lead and assistant head nurse in the ED, I see all kinds of random cases. And what I don’t see in person, I hear about through the rest of the staff. It would take something fairly astonishing to impress me. Despite my fatigue, remembering how embarrassed and emotional Mr Grigorio was when he came in; I wanted to see his visit through until he was admitted to his own room even though I could have passed him on to the next shift.

  “Okay then,” I glance at the IV fluid drip chamber making sure the sodium chloride is dripping without issue and that the infusion rate is accurate since he isn’t yet been connected to a pump and check the monitor to determine his current respiratory rate, “I just gave you another dose of morphine in your IV for the pain. Remember to lay on your side as much as possible – that will help ease your discomfort as well.”

  “Okay,” he scratches out, water leaking from the sides of his eyes.

  Patting him on the shoulder trying to offer a little comfort, I add, “Your new nurse will be here shortly, and she’s going to take you to your room and get you settled. In the morning, you’ll be prepped for surgery. Do you have any questions?’

  He shakes his head no and gives me a weak smile, “Thank you,” he says, his eyes kind, but heavy and his lined face flushed likely from embarrassment since he’s not feverish. “Alright then, my shift has ended,” I tell him giving him a smile and squeezing his shoulder one last time. “Take care. If you’re still in the hospital when I’m back tomorrow, I’ll look in on you, okay?”

  “Thank you,” he whispers as his eyes fall closed.

  When I walk out of the room and slide the door closed, several residents are huddled around the door, but they quickly spread out trying to look unassuming in my presence. Looking at them all with a raised brow, I wait for one to be brave enough to speak up. I don’t have to wait long. “Is it true that he has a matchbox car wedged up his ass?” Chris asks.

  “I heard it was a hamster, just like that celebrity that one time,” Jessica says.

  Another says, “Really? I heard it was a golf ball.”

  Rolling my eyes and crossing my arms, I look at the fourth and final person, “And your guess is?”

  “Um, I’m going with some type of food. A carrot? Celery stalk? Cucumber?” Aaron suggests.

  “You guys are ridiculous,” I respond and start to walk away. Looking back over my shoulder I can’t resist an add, “And wrong.” Like little ants eager to trace a trail of food they’ve all followed me. Sighing heavily I look up to the ceiling as if doing so brings patience and sanity. Yeah. Not so much. Be shift lead and assistant head nurse, they said. It will be great, they said. You’ll make the nursing team stronger. Residents will learn from you, they insisted. And you’ll get an increase in pay. How did I let it sound so appealing, so rewarding? What was wrong with me? Images of how I will retaliate for the advice received from my so-called friends helps me sleep comfortably at night.

  Spinning around quickly, they all suddenly stop, watching me warily as I place my hands on my hips and stare them down one by one. They start to shift uncomfortably under my stare and only then do I speak, “Rikki should be here by now to take over. My shift officially ended,” I look at my watch, “an hour and fifty two minutes ago. Go. Ask. Her.” Turning back around, I make my way to the locker room and sit down heavily on the bench as I take a minute to put my head into my hands.

  “Are they driving you crazy again?” Noah asks.

  His voice startles me. Being so consumed with getting away and relaxing for even one minute, I didn’t even see him when I entered. Lifting my head up, I take in my friend. Blonde hair, deep brown eyes, and a smile that has made many girls salivate; he’s become a good friend. Too bad for those girls he isn’t interested in them - or any girl- at all. Now boys on the other hand, are a different story. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

  “Oh, come on. They aren’t that bad,” Noah smiles and sits beside me to rub my back soothingly.

  Leaning into him, I sigh with happiness as he rubs at a tight knot. “You’re just trying to make me feel better.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” he confesses.

  “What are you doing in here anyway? This is the girl’s changing room,” I state as if he doesn’t already know this.

  A disgusted look crosses his face; “You know I only go into the boy’s changing room when I have to. It smells awful in there. Like seriously, how hard is it to wash your own underwear and socks?”

  St
ifling a shudder, I decide to not respond to that. I don’t need an image in my mind to go with the thought. No thank you. “Seriously, I don’t remember being as annoying as these students or residents. They’re all over every single somewhat interesting, or different, case that comes in. Not for learning mind you, but sensationalism and curiosity seeking – it’s like they’re capturing stories for a book called Crazy Tales from the ED. Then, they argue over which one of them will get to assist, as if they even get to decide.” He makes a noise of understanding, but most importantly he keeps rubbing. “If I were a mean person, I’d let them fight it out and then we could all place bets on who’d win.”

  “I’d bet on the hot Latino guy,” he teases. “What’s his name again?”

  “Marcos.”

  “Oooh, yes, Marcos,” he croons.

  “Not to burst your bubble, but I don’t think he’s gay. I swear I saw him feel up one of the nurses the other day in the hallway.”

  “Maybe not yet, baby doll, but that just means he hasn’t come to his senses.” I giggle and shake my head making him chuckle as well. “And not to burst your bubble,” he says, “but we were just as annoying as they all are. Maybe worse. Remember that one time…that male patient was admitted with syphilis, which he had obviously had for a while, and it was the first time we’d seen an STD in a man? We were all clamoring to get a look.”

  Stifling a smile at the memory, I nod, “Oh god, I remember that. Didn’t we all get in trouble because we started discussing in front of him what could happen to his junk if it went untreated?”

  He laughs, “Yes, we totally freaked him out. And got our asses chewed out.”

  I laugh and then concede, “Fine, point taken. I guess we were that annoying too.”

  “Of course, that doesn’t mean you can’t still find them fucking obnoxious,” a voice responds as it joins us, and I turn to look at our friend Natalie standing in the doorway. She looks as exhausted as we do, and I know she’s put in a long shift too. She rolls her eyes as a resident walks behind her and I confess I’m thankful I’m not the only one that finds them annoying. As she moves to her locker I take in her long dark ponytail and tired face. Instead of happiness crinkling her pretty eyes, she’s got dark circles indicating her tiredness. When she sits on the bench beside me, she emits a sigh of relief and satisfaction as she begins taking off her shoes and removes her top revealing the white camisole hiding underneath.

  Catching my look she gives me a tired smile, “I know it’s been a long shift, but Noah and I spoke earlier and we’re going to head out and get a drink and unwind a little before we go home.”

  “A night cap, huh?” I ask.

  “Sure,” she agrees, “You’re going to join us, right?”

  I already know the answer, but instead of being direct, I feign interest, “Where are you going?”

  “Just across the street to Stitches. We can split a pitcher of beer; maybe play a round of pool, nothing fancy. I know we’re all wiped out.”

  “You know, thanks for the invite, but I’m tired and think I may be getting a head cold. I’ve been feeling dizzy and a little off all night. I think I’m just going to head home.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’re not feeling well?” Noah asks me, concern lining his brow. “Are you okay to drive home? I can take you.”

  “No, no,” I insist. “I’ll be fine. Really. I’m looking forward to face planting on my bed. You guys go ahead without me, but I promise to buy the first round next time.”

  “I’m holding you to that because I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that before,” Natalie says. “In fact, I think you’ve bailed on us the last few times.”

  I cringe, “Sorry.”

  “No apology necessary, but also no excuses next time,” she points at me threateningly with her words. “We like your company, you know.”

  “Understood,” I nod doing my best to cover up the guilt that’s leaving an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  Noah leaves to go change mumbling under his breath about disgusting stinky male nurses, and Natalie and I continue making small talk as we change into our street clothes. Unlike some other hospitals that require uniforms or require staff to provide their own scrubs, we wear scrubs they provide. The only downside is that we aren’t supposed to ever leave the building still dressed in them. So, one must arrive a bit early to get dressed and go through the changing ritual after what is usually a very taxing shift. Natalie normally works the ED, but has been picking up extra shifts on the floors recently. Preparing to leave, she tells me about a patient she’s been assigned to for a week or so in PICU, a little girl that had open-heart surgery. She’s relieved she’s doing well. The little girl has made an impression on all the nurses that care for her.

  We all meet in the hallway and walk out to our cars together. We exchange hugs and Natalie and Noah go off to get their drinks, and I jog to my car anxious to get home.

  Whipping into my parking space at my apartment complex, I dig my keys out of my purse as I approach the door. My best friend and roommate’s car isn’t in its typical spot, so I realize Gina must be working late at the spa, or that she is possibly out with co-workers. I quickly check my phone and text her a ‘Where are you?’ text to touch base.

  When I pass the living room and take in our big tan couch, with pillows strewn about and an afghan thrown across the back, I feel a momentary longing to just kick back, and get comfortable. I can see myself, warm tea in hand, book in my lap, fuzzy socks and pj’s on and curled up – relaxed, soothed. But, then my other dark and twisted yearning rears its ugly head and snaps me out of the daydream - reality consuming my thoughts and decisions. With one last glance toward the couch, I continue down the hallway to my bedroom.

  Passing Gina’s room, through the open doorway, I see clothes strewn across the room. Her favorite perfume lingers in the air and I can’t help but smile. She and I have been friends since high school and she’s worn that scent for years. It’s familiar and comforting in its own right. Kicking my shoes off as I enter into my room, I recall when we met. I was hiding behind the bleachers smoking a cigarette, a nasty habit I’ve since kicked, and she appeared out of seeming nowhere and bummed a cigarette off of me. We sat together and made fun of the gym class students that were being forced to run a mile for class that day. I never knew making fun of people running around a track could be so entertaining. She invited me to her house that night to hang out, and wanting to be anywhere but at my own house, I happily agreed. We were inseparable after that. My mom always thought she was a bad influence, even asked my brother to keep a close eye on me, but I just laughed when she made comments and my brother could have cared less who I spent my time with.

  While I got state funds and went to nursing school, she went to beauty school. She’s always kept me abreast of the latest makeup trends, but her specialty is waxing. It cracks me up, but she loves it. And I’ve got to say, she’s really great at her job, which my sensitive skin appreciates. The people she meets and the stories she tells have kept me laughing. Especially during late night study binges when I wanted to just throw in the towel and forget having a nursing career at all.

  I miss my friend. Our schedules have been pretty crazy lately, so I haven’t seen her much. We need to make hanging out a priority – and soon. Restarting my pace, suddenly aware that I had stopped in my tracks, I continue moving toward my room, removing the clothes I changed into just minutes ago, and finish the task as I cross the entryway. This time it’s to trade them for a sexy black dress. It’s low cut in the front, backless, and falls just above my knees. Sliding my feet into my favorite red-bottomed black stilettos, I sit at my vanity and apply my makeup with a heavy hand. I’m careful not to look at myself too closely while painting my face - I’m not in the mood to see my soul crying through my eyes. I’m not giving into that tonight.

  Finishing quickly, I fluff my hair, gloss my lips, and throw the necessities into a small black purse. Leaving, I lock the door behind me
then stand on the threshold for a moment, but before I can change my mind, I leave. Jetting back to my car, I start it, but before taking off, I plug in my phone and pick a sexy beat. Setting it to thump from my speakers, I tap out a beat on my leg as I make my way to my destination.

  Once I arrive, I’m inside the bar, Green Apple, and have a drink in my hand in record time. The bartender smiles with recognition, “Hi Tina,” he says calling me by what he thinks is my name. “What can I get you tonight? The usual?”

  “Sure, Craig, that would be great,” I give him a sultry smile and he returns it, but I know from experience he isn’t interested. He’s a no play at work kind of guy and I get it and respect it. The flirtations he blesses me and everyone else with are just part of his bar persona. I can’t imagine the number of women that don’t understand that though. It would be fun to guess how many phone numbers he wracks up in an evening.

  He places a gin and tonic in front of me and I pay him with a ten-dollar bill and a smile. Taking a seat, I make sure I’m showing plenty of leg and sip my drink as I bide my time. My body soaks up the music that’s thumping through the bar, and I enjoy the vibrating and tingling the bass creates. It doesn’t take long for a blonde-haired, green-eyed man to sidle up next to me. He smiles widely, his eyes glassy indicating he’s had more than a couple drinks tonight. He wastes no time tracing my body with his eyes, making his intentions clear. I return his smile thinking, bingo.

  Several minutes later, we are in the alley behind the bar. My dress is pulled up to my waist and Dan, or is it Ben, pumps into me. My back is scraping against the brick wall behind me, and I can feel small drops of blood making their way down my spine. I hold onto that, reveling in the pain, in the simple act of feeling. Something. Anything.

  He tries to kiss me, but I turn my head away. His breath is rancid with alcohol and usually, I don’t go there. Instead, he buries his head in my neck and his breaths come in pants. When it’s over, he’s quiet as he awkwardly places himself back in his pants. I’m not one for forced conversation, so I just smile a smile I don’t at all feel, wink and walk away.