Page 256 of Heart of Frost and Scars

The past twenty hours have blurred together in a haze of feverish activity. Every bed is occupied, and we’re running low on supplies. This stomach bug is aggressive, and our resources are stretched thin.

I can’t let my emotions get the better of me. I focus on each patient, pouring every ounce of my energy into their care. We haven’t lost one yet.

Eventually, fatigue drapes over me like a heavy blanket. I start fumbling with IVs and tripping over my own feet. But I can’t go home. Not yet. I just need a few hours of sleep before I can continue.

After I scrub my hands for the millionth time today, I pull out my phone and send a group text to the guys, letting them know I’m okay and reiterating the importance of them staying on the island.

I hit send, my fingers trembling. I can’t lose them. Not now, not ever.

“Take a break.” Nurse Letty grips my arm as I sway against a doorframe. “You can barely stay upright.”

“I’m fine.”

“You already exceeded the max hours. You’re going to start making mistakes.” Her eyes harden above her mask. “Go get some sleep. Now.”

She’s right.

Dammit.

With a nod, I trudge toward the on-call room for a nap. At the door, I glance at my bodyguards, knowing they’ll check the room before I go inside.

Carl precedes me, and I follow him in, my steps heavy, my mind foggy.

To my surprise, Rhett is sitting on the bed, a duffle bag at his feet.

“What are you doing here?” I collapse beside him and remove my mask. “I thought you went to Seattle?”

“I stayed to help with the emergency. I came in here to take a quick nap. But the bed is all yours now. Just need to pack my bag.”

I glance at Carl, who stands at the door. “I’ll sleep for a few hours. Don’t let anyone disturb me.”

“Six hours minimum,” Rhett says to him and turns to me. “You should’ve stopped hours ago. You’re going to run yourself into the ground.”

Carl nods and closes the door behind him.

“When I got back into town yesterday, I was surprised to find this room empty.” Rhett glances around. “You moved back in with Monty?”

“Yeah.” I can’t keep the smile from lifting my cheeks. “We all moved in with him.”

“Wow. That’s a big commitment. Are you sure about it?”

“Never been more sure in my life. We figured out a way to make it work.”

“Would they die for you?”

That’s a strange question, but the answer is easy. “Yes. Why?”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt again.” He bumps his shoulder against mine.

“I won’t. I want to do this.”

“Me, too,” he whispers.

A sharp prick burns through my thigh.

I stare down at the syringe in my leg. The syringe that Rhett is holding in place.

Stunned, confused, I lift my eyes to him. My boss. My friend. The person I’ve trusted and relied on.

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