Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother #4) - Lisa Helen Gray Page 0,30
it intuition. She had something big; big enough that she was taking it to the police first and not her paper.”
“You should have become a cop,” he muses.
I laugh. “And deal with dickheads all day? No thanks. I would end up arrested. I have two brothers and a lot of cousins to deal with already,” I tell him, scrunching my nose up at his suggestion. “Look, I need to go. I’m outside work and really need to go in.”
“I’ll let you go then, and I’ll get this sent over.”
“Thanks for doing me a solid.”
“You’re welcome.”
We say goodbye before ending the call. Once the phone is safely back in my pocket, I jump up and down, waving my hands around. “I’m going to rock this story and become a news reporter,” I hoot, wiggling my arse side to side.
“Good heavens, Hayden, get inside,” Tracey yells, causing me to scream. I catch my breath and see the way she’s watching me. Most likely wondering how my crazy arse ended up working for her. “Are you going to come into work or not?”
I nod, stepping forward. “Sorry, I’m coming.”
*** *** ***
The pungent smell of lavender on the fresh linen is pleasant. Lavender is a smell that never took my fancy before my grandparents passed away. Now, I favour it. It reminds me so much of Gran, of the love she spoiled us with.
It smells like home.
Grabbing a pillowcase off the brown suede chair, I begin to finish making the bed. We have a new live-in patient being transferred from the hospital and I need to get the room set up for his arrival.
The sound of someone approaching has me glancing to the door. Amelia waddles in, head down, her prodigious stomach leading the way.
“Evening, Amelia.”
She covers her stomach in a protective gesture, jerking in fright.
“Holy sugar,” she squeals, gasping for breath.
Holding my hands up, I panic. “Please don’t go into labour.”
She laughs, but it’s forced. The strain on her expression gives it away. She’s scared out of her mind. I can see it in the way her gaze darts around the room, and the way her body shakes.
“It’s okay. I just didn’t see you in here. And I won’t. I’m not due for another two months.”
Amelia is one of the many nurses who work here that I like. She’s stunning. Her dark hazel eyes are mixed with a deep forest green. They almost glow, the colour is that intense. They’re warm and sparkle with mirth, but every so often they grow dim, haunted and lost. It worries me, and I wish she’d open up. But the one thing I’ve come to know about the mysterious woman is she doesn’t talk about her past. Or the father of her unborn child and the young little girl she brought with her when she and her mum came to visit her aunt.
Her rich black hair falls just below her shoulders when she has it down. Today, she has it in two French braids twisted to the nape of her neck.
And although she’s seven months pregnant, I can tell she still holds her slim figure.
“Phew.”
“Sorry I overreacted. I, um, I really didn’t think anyone was in here.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask, noticing she seems more distracted than normal.
Sometimes, patients who need life care don’t make it from the hospital.
She shakes her head, seeming to get her thoughts together. She’s in that place where she doesn’t seem here, in the present.
She pastes on a bright smile, nodding. “Yes, everything is fine. I’m in my own head. I came in to check the room was ready because the movers are here. It reminded me I still need to find somewhere to live.”
“I’ll ask my uncle. He owns his own letting agency. I’m sure he can hook you up.”
“Thank you.” She smiles, running a hand down her tunic. “Just let me know. In the meantime, our new patient, Mr Cross, has arrived.”
Mr Cross. It couldn’t be. No, she couldn’t mean…
“Here is your room, Mr Cross,” Tracey declares, smiling at her niece, Amelia, as she steps inside.
I gawk at my former boss, sitting in a wheelchair, his leg raised and in a cast. He’s aged ten years since the last time I saw him. His skin looks withered and old. He has oxygen tubes up his nose and black bags under his eyes. I’ve never seen him look so… well, so old.
“Hayden?”
I groan at the sound of the voice I’ve come to love and loathe. Shock pours out in his tone