I can’t believe after all the effort Olive has made to keep me out of any of this motorcycle club shit, that she would even suggest this.

I’m pretty sure the orders aren’t coming directly from her mouth, but regardless, she asked me to do something that could seriously put my career in jeopardy.

And yet, here I am doing it—rooting around in Hank’s pants pockets, his leather cut, anything that I find laying in this locker in his room. I’m sure the police have already been through what they need at the scene of the accident, but here I am, double-checking just in case.

Just by the feel of it, I know exactly what this bag in his pants pocket is before I can even see it. I’ve seen thousands of them in my day. I used to call them “tuition bags.” I tried to laugh about it at the time, but the truth was, this thing I’m holding in my hand is the worst thing in the world to me. I don’t blame Hank. I blame whoever got him hooked on it to begin with, and whoever is sleazy enough to keep selling it to him.

I slip it into my pocket, looking over my shoulder the whole time. I have every right to be in the room with him, as it’s my job to oversee his recovery from the accident, but I’m sure if anyone caught me digging around in here, they’d have no problem running straight to the board of directors. I don’t know exactly how many “strikes” I have against me, as we never really openly discussed my arrest or the trial, but I’m sure this would be the one that gets me officially tossed out of the program.

I walk over to his side, double-checking the monitors beeping away next to him.

“Hank Boden, what’s your deal?” I whisper, watching his eyelids flutter a little as he lays there in the hospital bed. He’s still in the recovery room, still coming down off of anesthesia, and I wish I could keep him that way a little longer. He’s in for a long and painful rehab as soon as he wakes up.

Part of me is hanging around because I don’t want him to have to be alone when he awakens, just in case nobody makes it in time. He’s definitely going to be frightened, in pain, and probably really confused. Although I know that being a proficient surgeon is critical to my success at this career, I sometimes have a soft spot for my patients. I hate to see human suffering. I want to help heal the world.

Of course there’s more to my attention to Hank than just that.

There’s a small part of me hoping Gavin will be the one to walk through those doors.

I watch his vitals on the monitor as his chest drops down and fills up, his breathing becoming less shallow as each moment passes.

“Where the fuck is my son?” a voice booms through the hallway. I look out the window blinds and see an older man charging down the corridor, peeking in windows and knocking on doors. He looks vaguely familiar to me, but the lines on his face and the gray in his beard are not who I was hoping for; not who I wanted to deal with at all. Carol is doing her best to keep up with him but her nicotine habit is getting the best of her lung power.

“Sir, you need to calm down. I’ll take you to him, but you have to be respectful of the other patients,” she yells.

“Buzz off, blondie,” he barks. When his eyes catch mine, I am instantly filled with fear. His leather cut tells me everything I need to know. The president of the Mountain Misfits sneers at me before barnstorming the room.

“I need discharge papers now,” he says in a low deep snarl. It takes everything in me not to laugh. Of all the ridiculous suggestions I’ve heard in my life, me discharging a patient who is currently anesthetized has to be one of the craziest.

“Sir, that’s simply not possible,” I say. “He’s not even awake yet.” My voice is wavering, but I need to stand my ground. In any other setting, I’d probably be frightened by a man like this, but this hospital is my home. This is my turf, and I’m not going to let some delusional man stroll in and boss me around.

“You want me to call security?” Carol asks, trying to catch her breath as she finally makes it to the room.

“No.” I shake my head. “Can you give us a moment, actually? Shut the door behind you.”

She looks at me like I’m a crazy woman, and maybe I am, but I’ve spent years of my life dealing with men like this, and if I want to give Hank a fighting chance, I need his father to at least feel like we’re on the same page.

“Dr. Sullivan…” The warning in her voice is clear. She definitely thinks I’m making a bad decision. Potentially a dangerous decision.

“Nurse Lee.” I scowl back. She shakes her head and slams the door behind her loud enough to wake the dead.

He is staring me up and down, his dark eyes squinted. He’s trying every intimidation tactic in the book, and I’m doing my best to just let it roll right off my back.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, Doc, but you’re really not my type. Maybe you could get one of your doctor friends to slap some tits on ya and we could talk.”

His words, his demeanor, everything about him, disgusts me, yet his stature and his face are so familiar. This has to be Gavin’s father.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

“It doesn’t matter. I just want my son out of here. Cops been by yet?”

“Not that I know of. I’m sure they won’t be until he’s at least awake. I can see why you’re concerned, but Hank needs a lot of rehab before he’s going to be in any condition to be released.”

He’s standing so close to me, breathing down my neck, all I can smell is stale tobacco. My skin crawls. He’s backing me into the corner, but I’m not afraid of him.

“Come on, lady,” he sneers. “Just give me the papers.”

“I can’t,” I say, completely honestly. In all actuality, as a surgeon in training, I have no power whatsoever to sign patients out.

He slowly caresses the side of my face, but it’s not a kind gesture. “I think you can, and I think you will.”

“Sir,” I state as firmly as possible, “I’m not that kind of doctor. I’m just a student. If you would kindly take your hands off of me, I can call my supervisor, Dr. Peterman, if you’d like. I don’t think your charm is going to work on him, either, though.”

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he begins pacing the room.

I don’t know why I’m even bothering with this man. I should just storm out now, take that bag of heroin and hand it right over to Dr. Peterman.

“Just you wait, girl,” he says. “My boy will be here any time now, and I’m sure you’ll drop the attitude real quick. You think I’m mean? He makes me look like a fucking pussycat.”

That’s when I realize where I know him, how I know him. This can’t be Gavin’s father. He’s so… disgusting. They might look alike, but I find it hard to believe that they are similar in any other way. That being said, maybe I don’t know Gavin as well as I think I do.

Maybe that’s why Olive has been so adamant about keeping us apart. Maybe he’s actually a huge creep. It’s possible, that’s for sure. I tend to be a magnet for good-looking creeps.

Still, I take his statement as a challenge.

“I have all the time in the world, sir.” I laugh. I definitely have to stick around and see just how mean Gavin really is.