to know what Allen had experienced, what he had observed in the weeks leading up to his colleague’s attacks on women who hadn’t done a damned thing to him.
Victims.
It pissed Allen off to think of Izzie and Nikkie Jean as victims.
Henedy had been a good surgeon—not the best, certainly not as skilled as Finley Creek General could hire, but he’d been one of the leaders in the field.
Replacing him was proving more difficult than Allen had anticipated.
The stress was starting to give Allen an ulcer. They’d had three completely unsuitable candidates since Henedy’s arrest.
The latest had propositioned Lacy and Nikkie Jean—on the same day. Either that or what he’d said was an extremely poor choice of words that slid well past the boundary of sexual harassment.
Maybe the guy had a thing for pregnant women or something.
It was another headache he had to deal with it. He had a lot of headaches lately—to go along with the ulcer.
Maybe he should take Caine’s offer—leave Finley Creek Gen behind and start fresh at the smaller hospital fifty miles away. Head the Barratt County ER and lead a much calmer life. Build friendships there. Maybe get a cat.
A simpler life at Barratt County Gen was starting to have mass appeal. He’d work less erratic hours, could buy himself a nice house there, move forward with his life again.
He’d woken up with memories of what had happened two weeks ago playing in his head.
He’d dreamed of Jess’s big brown eyes again, too. Sometimes, she snuck into his dreams and reminded him of how he’d failed. Failed her, failed to see her for what she really was.
Failed Jillian and Lacy and Rafe’s younger sister Ariella.
Sometimes, he wasn’t certain if it was Jess’s eyes he was seeing any longer. Ariella had big dark eyes like that.
So did Izzie.
It was usually Izzie he dreamed about now. How she’d looked, so close to gone. It was going to take him a long while to erase that image from his memory.
Sometimes, Jess morphed into Izzie right before his eyes. Especially in the two weeks since the shooting.
Jess had betrayed him, been nothing more than a fraud and a crook—a thief who hadn’t cared who she hurt, and a drug peddler out for only a profit. Yet he still dreamed of Jess’s dark hair and dark eyes. She’d worn her hair almost to her waist. Straight and beautiful.
Allen had loved to run his fingers through that hair.
She had been using him. For what he could do for her at FCGH.
That still stung.
He’d sworn off women after that. Especially women who worked at Finley Creek General. It had only been recently that he’d started to even notice the people he worked with again.
Because of Nikkie Jean. He still remembered the exact moment it had happened. He’d come up behind her and casually said something. She’d jumped a million feet and turned.
There had been terror and memories in Nikkie Jean’s big eyes. It had jerked him out of his shell and back into the real world again.
Made him realize that others out there had deeper wounds than his.
He was still being careful with her. But this was ridiculous.
Nikkie Jean needed to be on an antiemetic. For some reason, she’d stubbornly refused to even consider it.
She’d gotten ill again after their last surgery. He was almost certain the woman had lost a little more weight in the last few weeks. Weight she hadn’t been able to afford to lose even before she’d gotten pregnant. He’d told her to clock out and go home.
Her car was still in the parking lot. He’d seen it when he’d crossed the parking lot to his medical practice across the street from the hospital.
His shift ended in two hours. She had another six to go. He knew what she was planning. Allen wasn’t going to have any part of it.
Nikkie Jean was hiding from him.
If Nikkie Jean Netorre was hiding, it would be in Izzie’s room.
Nikkie Jean was going home—or he was calling her fiancé to come get her.
Allen was about to play hardball.
28
Izzie was awake and being entertained by one Nikkie Jean. Nikkie Jean had flopped into the chair next to the bed of the private room Izzie had been moved to earlier and had proclaimed that pregnancy hormones were killers.
Her friend had looked absolutely green. “I’m hiding.”
“From?”
“The tyrant otherwise known as Allen.”
“Oh?” That man…he confused her. She knew that. Even knew that she would have weird feelings for the man who had saved her life for a