Shaw Novel – Four years ago, I hurt the one person who meant more to him than anyone. Now I have the chance to set that hurt right and get back her I‘ve never been able to forget. “She’s not an ex or a bunny, is she?” “What? No. Cora and I went to school together. Her stepfather was my coach in high school. We were friends.” “Just friends?” “Just friends. She’s probably the only girl who’s ever just been my friend. I’ve known her since kindergarten.” Until she wasn’t my friend anymore. Until I screwed it up. Coach nods, accepting it. “Good. I’ve asked for her to be your nurse while you’re here.” This could be my chance to fix my screw-up. To get her back. I’ve missed her so much.
Cora Has it really been only four hours since the worst shock of my life? But my trusty watch says it has. Thank God for all my training, or I might have run from the hospital and never come back. Shaw Chandler. Dear sweet baby Jesus. I never expected to see him again, especially not in Minnesota, of all places. He swore he never wanted to play where it was cold ever again. The southern states or the warmer ones on the west coast are where he wanted to play. It’s why I felt so safe moving here. Even though hockey is king in this state the same way football is in Texas, I knew he’d never play here. But then, players don’t dictate trades.
He might not have been given a choice. And besides, it’s not like he’d care I’m here, anyway. We haven’t spoken in over four years. Shaking my head, I pull myself together and focus on the patient who needs the nausea meds. Poor man seems to have gotten food poisoning. He’s thrown up three times since he got here twenty minutes ago. He’s dehydrated, but the IV I put in with the fluids should start to help soon. “Here you go, Mr. Croom. This will ease the nausea.” I hand him the tablets and small paper cup. He takes it and swallows the pills down. “God, I hope this stays down.” Me too. He threw up on me earlier. Glancing at the clock, a sigh escapes when I see my shift is over. I can go home and forget I saw Shaw Chandler.
But the pale stillness of him when he came in worries me. Shaw was my best friend all throughout school, and as much as he hurt me, part of me still worries about him. I always will. “I’m getting ready to leave, Mr. Croom, but Amber will be the charge nurse on duty. She should be by in just a few minutes. Is there anything you need before I go?” He shakes his head miserably, and I smile encouragingly at him. Food poisoning is one of the worst things in the world. “Hey, Cora.” Amber shoots me a smile when I walk over to the nurses’ station to clock out on the computer. “Watch that one. He’s got food poisoning and has already thrown up on me.” “Ouch.” I wrinkle my nose. I smell like vomit, but at least I have on clean scrubs. I learned early on to keep several extra sets on hand. I give her the rundown on the rest of the patients as I gather my things. “I heard about the hockey mess that came in.” “Yeah. Two serious injuries and one very loud, very vocal team.”
“We’ve had them in a few times over the years. Takes some wrangling.” “I handled it.” “I knew you could.” She waves me off as I walk around the station. “See you tomorrow!” No, she won’t, but I don’t bother mentioning that. Amber is one of the nicest people in this place, and I try not to let my snarky nature disrupt her bubbly attitude. It’s not until I’m in the elevator stepping off onto the floor where Shaw is that I realize I’ve even done it. I shouldn’t be here. I know it, but I’m worried. He looked so pale. Groaning at my own gluttony for punishment, I walk down the hall to his room. No one is around. He’s probably still passed out. He had a nasty concussion, but because of the surgery to repair his spleen, he had to have anesthesia.
If I remember correctly, he doesn’t respond well to the stuff. It knocks him out for days afterward, so I should be good just to sneak in and check to make sure he’s okay. But he’s not alone. One of the nurses from the waiting room is standing there, taking photos on his phone. What the… “Just what do you think you’re doing?” He whirls around, and his eyes go round. I whip out my phone and text Mrs. H. She’s the one nurse I know who will take care of this. “What are you doing?” he asks, voice low. “Texting my supervisor to let her know what you’re doing.” He looks from the phone to me and then shrugs. He knows he can sell those photos for a few hundred thousand, easy. It’s no biggie if he gets fired. He breezes by me and out the door. Oh, he did not! Running after him, I catch his arm and pull him around. “You’re not…” “Don’t make me hurt you, babe.” His tone is threatening, but it doesn’t register. All I’m thinking about is those photos.
Photos of Shaw when he’s vulnerable and unable to defend himself. “You are not getting out of here with those pictures.” “You going to stop me, babe?” Without thinking, I grab his phone and slam it on the ground, smashing it in the process. Well, cracking the screen more than the phone flying into little bits and pieces. “You little bimbo!” And before I can dodge, his fist has connects with my face. Everyone on the floor sees it. He seems to notice and tries to run, but one of the hockey guys from downstairs is only a few steps away and snags him. “You okay, Cora?” Natalee, one of my good friends, asks as she helps me up. “Did you hit your head?” The pain vibrating across my cheek is horrible. The bruise is going to be epically bad. My head does hurt, but it’s not as bad as the cheek. “She broke my phone!” the offender shouts.
“That doesn’t give you the right to hit a girl, dude.” Mr. Tall Dark and Deadly hockey player doesn’t look impressed with the nurse’s outburst. Mrs. H. arrives and, seeing my face, rushes over to check it, her fingers gentle on my jaw. “This needs x-rayed.” “It’ll be fine.” I can’t afford a hospital bill. Even with our insurance taking care of most of the bill, I still can’t afford what would be left. “No, it won’t,” she rebukes. “Or do I need to pull the same spiel you gave earlier?” I try to smile, but it hurts too much. “Now, is this the man you texted about?” I nod. “Yes, ma’am. He was taking pictures of Sha…Mr. Chandler. When he tried to run, I smashed his phone. I’m sorry about that, but it’s the only thing I could think to do. Our job is to take care of our patients, not exploit them when they’re unconscious.” “He did what?” The voice of the player holding the nurse drops two octaves and turns from soft to hard so fast it would make your head spin. Even those pretty brown eyes have gone so cold and dark, they’re nearly black. “She’s lying!”