Full Rigged (Lost Creek Rodeo #4) - Rebecca Connolly Page 0,3

line of deep indentations in them. Her face flamed with guilt and shame as the fire died down.

Why? Why did the simple question set her off? Why did it send her through the roof? She’d always asked her assistants and nurses to keep their eyes on things like that for the patients, to use their training for critical thinking, not just to do as she asked in complete obedience. Katie was doing exactly what Brynn had always asked of her, and Brynn had wanted to throw something across the room at her. Right at her face.

It made no sense, but these feelings never did.

They never made one bit of sense.

She swallowed and pressed the inside of her wrist against her damp brow, inhaling shakily. They’d just finished with her last patient of the day, which was probably why she’d lost it. These surges, or whatever they were, always came at the end of the day.

Or when she was stressed.

Which wasn’t always at the end of the day.

But that was it for her day. She didn’t need to finish her notes here; she could do those on her laptop at home. If she was going to be surging, she needed to be away from people to do it. She hadn’t actually lost it on a coworker or colleague yet, and certainly not on anyone who worked for her, and she did not want to start now.

Her family and friends, on the other hand . . .

Well, they saw her after the end of her workday, when she was at her most stressed. She had much less control then.

She should have been able to bite her tongue with the people who loved her best, but somehow, she’d lost whatever filter normal people had in the last year.

Since the truth about Minimus came to light.

Brynn’s face suddenly flamed, her heart rate picking up, galloping furiously against her temples, her wrists, and the soles of her feet. A glower took over her features, and she felt almost sick with the sudden rise in emotions.

No, she told herself. No. This has to stop.

She waited, trying some deep breathing, picking a spot on the wall and focusing on it, counting backwards from seven—everything she had seen when she’d been scrolling on her phone at two in the morning last week. It should have worked, one or all.

But nothing was happening.

Except her anger growing hotter.

She’d scream herself into a frenzy in about ten minutes if this didn’t back down. She knew that for sure; two weeks ago, she’d had to grab a pillow from a patient room to do so and had almost passed out from it.

She refused to do that again. He could not have this much power anymore. That was why she’d given him that name. Minimus was tiny and insignificant, a weakling attempt at a gladiator that would get eaten alive in three seconds flat. He had no real name.

Not anymore.

And he would not continue to rile her up just by existing.

Pressing her back teeth together again, Brynn turned to her computer and signed out before swinging her chair around to pick up her purse. She hurried out of her office, turning down the back hallway to avoid seeing any of the office staff or lingering patients who might think of new questions or use the dreaded phrase, “While I am here.”

Nothing set her off like those words.

But she hadn’t liked them much before the Minimus incident, so there was that.

“Brynn!”

She jerked to a stop, hissing to herself in the weakest attempt at self-soothing known to man. She took two careful steps back and smiled into the office of her colleague. “Hey, Craig.”

Craig was a classic in this office—mid-fifties, still ran marathons, had a sense of humor, spent enough time with his patients to keep them happy but not enough to get trapped, and had a gift with babies. He was also observant to a fault and loved to pry. His wife commented on it at every office party and staff dinner.

He’d know if she were about to go off.

He sat back in his chair, grinning at the end of the workday like he was living the dream. “You’re racing out of here. Got a date?”

“Yes,” she told him in a complete deadpan. “With Netflix, Ben, and Jerry.”

He chuckled and picked up a stress ball from his desk, tossing it from one hand to the other. “It’s a gorgeous day out. You should get out there. Go for a walk, a run, a ride.