Page 49 of Night Shift

“Come on, you’re staying with me. No arguments,” Bethany insisted, her tone brooking no disagreement.

“Bethany, I can’t impose on you like that. I’ll be fine at my place,” I tried to argue, though the thought of being alone in my apartment gave me the creeps.

“No way, Sam. Not with those guys out there. You’re staying with me, end of discussion. It could be days, even weeks, before the police find them.”

I hesitated, torn between not wanting to be a burden and being afraid of facing the night alone. “I…I don’t know what to do, Beth. I really don’t want to be alone today.”

Bethany reached out, taking my hand in hers. “You won’t be alone. I’ve got you. Let’s get your stuff and head to my place.”

Gratitude filled me, and I nodded, finally relenting. “Thank you, Beth. Really, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She was offering me more than just a place to stay. This would be a safe haven, and she was giving me the support and I care I desperately needed right now.

Bethany and I made our way through the hospital and out the sliding doors of the ED. As we stepped outside, the sunlight warmed my face, making me squint.

“You know, the HR department was actually really nice about everything,” I said as we walked toward Bethany’s car. “They were super apologetic about the attack.”

“Really?” Bethany glanced at me, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah. I even told them this might not have happened if they’d had a guard for the employee parking lot.” I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You should have seen Lucy’s face. She looked like she was about to have a heart attack right there.”

Bethany snorted. “Yeah, they don’t want you to sue them. Can you imagine the headlines? ‘Hospital Nurse Attacked Due to Lack of Security.’”

I laughed, the sound mingling with the morning chirps of nearby birds. “They were super understanding though. Told me to take the next two weeks off and it wouldn’t count as vacation or sick leave—just extra time, at the hospital’s expense.”

We were both laughing at that when we reached her car, a sleek Volvo XC60 that gleamed under the sun’s rays. “Wow, they really don’t want you to sue them,” she said, unlocking the car with a push on her key fob.

I paused, admiring the vehicle’s elegant lines. “Maybe I should sue them. Could end up with a nice car like this,” I joked, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth.

Bethany rolled her eyes, but her smile was indulgent. “Get in, troublemaker. Let’s get you settled, and then we can plot your grand lawsuit over lunch.”

I slid into the passenger seat of her car, sighing as I sat back in the leather seat. Having a friend like Bethany made this whole ordeal bearable.

As Bethany navigated the streets, the smooth purr of the engine filled the cabin, blending with the low hum of the radio, which was playing a soft country tune. The leather seat cradled me gently, feeling so good after all that had happened. I glanced out the window, watching the city pass by in a blur.

“Tell me everything,” Bethany said. Though her eyes were fixed on the road ahead, her attention was fully on me. “How did it happen?”

I took a deep breath and began to recount the attack. I described the brutal force with which they’d beaten me, how each punch and kick had landed on my body, and the sharp pain that had accompanied the nasty cut on my inner forearm. As I spoke, Bethany’s grip tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white.

“It was all so terrifying,” I said quietly, tracing the bandage on my inner forearm. “And then Conan showed up. You should have seen him, Beth. He was like something out of a movie, with all his martial arts skills and raw power. He beat the crap out of both attackers.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s so wild. Unbelievable.”

“Conan was incredible. And afterward, he was so sweet and caring. It’s hard to believe he’s Atticus’s younger brother. They’re so different.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure. Who stitched you up?”

“Atticus was on duty,” I said, glancing down at my bandage. “He sutured the cut on my arm and was surprisingly kind during my panic attack. But he’s just so…odd. I can’t figure him out. He was tender, attentive even, one minute and stone cold the next. It’s so confusing.”

“Mmm, Conan’s a great guy; that’s for sure. And well, I told you about Atticus. Those two are as different as night and day. Not sure Atticus is the tender filet mignon type—more like the overcooked shoe leather kind of steak you can never quite swallow,” Bethany teased.

My chuckle turned into a sigh, and I relaxed again into the soft leather seat. Bethany reached over, giving my hand a gentle squeeze. “It sounds like a lot to process, Sam. Both Conan and Atticus took care of you in their own ways. It’s understandable to be confused about Atticus. People are complex, you know?”

I nodded, grateful for her understanding. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s just been so much to take in.”

Minutes later, we were pulling into the parking lot of my apartment complex. Bethany parked the Volvo, and we both got out. She accompanied me up the stairs, hovering like a mother hen.

As she stepped into my apartment, she beamed with appreciation. “This place is so cute, Sam! I love the yellow paint; it’s so bright and cheerful.”

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