Page 85 of I Can't Even

I’d officially made the switch from nursing to nurse anesthetist.

I’d switched just last week, and so far, I was loving it.

What I was not loving was being the low woman on the totem pole.

I was called in for everything, even when I wasn’t supposed to be there.

But last week, I’d put my foot down, and explained that I couldn’t be coming in on days that I wasn’t scheduled to work thanks to there still being a serial killer gunning for me.

How did I know that there was a serial killer gunning for me?

Because over the last week, things had escalated.

It was as if he’d stopped getting the fix he needed, and he was now bombarding my app with messages. And since I couldn’t block anything because we were trying to find this sick asshole, I’d had to see every single message that came in.

They’d started out tame, so to speak. But the latest ones, like the one I’d gotten today, weren’t so great.

SleepyJoe122:

I saw you with your boyfriend at the hospital. You look tired. I’ll help you sleep.

I didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what he meant by ‘helping me sleep.’

“Officer 455,” Quinn sounded sick. As if he was dying. “I’m… I’m…”

He couldn’t even finish his sentence.

“Go,” Garrett ordered. “Go.”

Garrett wasn’t driving today.

I was.

So I gunned it, heading exactly where he told me to.

When we got to a police barrier, Garrett got out to talk to the officer.

He looked back at me, and then kept talking. A few more seconds, and then Garrett was on the phone.

Garrett started walking back to the car seconds later, shoving his phone angrily into his pocket.

My phone rang and then, and I answered it on the car.

“Hello?” I asked, voice slightly shaky.

“Hey, it’s me,” Quaid said. “I’m going to have you drive home. Officer Assman’s following you.”

I looked around for Officer Assman but didn’t notice him.

Garrett opened the door, whistled, and Boss jumped out, knocking me in the face with his butt as he did.

Boss and I had started to get along quite well. Only, he still treated me like leftovers when it came to his master.

Garrett looked at me, then pointed at a patrol car with an officer inside I couldn’t see.

“Assman,” he said. “He’s following you home. Go straight home.”

“Assman will follow you inside,” Quaid sounded distracted.

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