Damn that man and her traitorous body that craved to know what his hands would feel like on her skin.
But after one night with him, there was only one emotion she would be feeling—regret.
Chapter 3
Belle
Belle’s back ached as she walked down the hall towards the break room. She’d been on her feet for almost twelve hours now and was in desperate need of coffee.
“There’s my favorite nurse.” The deep voice had her glancing to her right.
“Doctor Stanley, what can I do for you?” She smiled at the good-looking doctor, fighting the urge to check her watch to see how many minutes were left on her shift.
“Room six needs your competent hands.”
She nodded. “No problem.”
“Thank you,” he called after her as she rounded the corner, finally giving into the temptation to look at the time on her wristwatch. Twenty minutes left.
She knocked on the door and Doctor Burton called her in.
Belle had seen her fair share of blood and broken bones in the emergency department. But nothing prepared her for the sight in front of her. Her breath caught and tears prickled the back of her eyes, but she kept her expression void of the violent reaction wreaking havoc inside her body. The woman lay on the hospital bed, both eyes so bruised they were black, and so swollen they were shut. Her arm lay at an odd angle as she tucked herself in a ball. More bruises marred her arms, and legs. Belle forced a slow inhale to steady herself as she got to work helping Doctor Burton. This was why Doctor Stanley had sent her in here. Belle was one of the few in the hospital trained as a Sexual Assault Nurse Examiner.
“Okay, Brynn, Nurse Belle is going to help me set that arm so we can get it in a cast,” Doctor Burton said, adopting a more soothing tone.
The patient nodded slowly and winced as if even that small movement was too painful. “My son. Is he . . .”
“I had Nurse Katy bring him down to the cafeteria. He’s getting some food in his belly,” Doctor Burton answered.
“Thank you,” Brynn said.
“Brynn, honey, we have to ask with injuries like this—were you sexually assaulted?” Belle asked.
Brynn’s body began to tremble. Belle laid her hand gently on her shoulder, careful to exert only enough pressure so that her patient would know she was not alone in this.
“Not this time,” she whispered.
Belle grit her teeth together as her heart broke for this woman. It was better not to wonder how she got stuck in this type of situation. She didn’t need her medical degree to know that one in four women would experience violence from their partner, and nearly one in three women would be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. She’d experienced firsthand the dangers of domestic violence and how easy it was to believe that you were trapped. If only I could have protected myself. Just one more reminder that she’d promised herself she’d learn self-defense and never got around to it. If TJ ever had to see her like that . . .
“Would you like to talk to an officer and press charges?” Doctor Burton asked.
Brynn tensed as she sat straighter and shook her head vehemently, then cried out in pain. “No! No cops.”
She shifted to the edge of the bed while Belle reached out her other hand to steady her.
“I shouldn’t have come,” Brynn hissed through gritted teeth.
“Yes. You should have.” Belle spoke up. “You did the right thing. Your arm needs to be set and your injuries checked over. It is your right to refuse to report this. And it’s our job to offer you confidentiality. We can help you so you can heal, and if you are interested, we can offer you resources so you never have to go back.” This was the hardest part of the job. The moment when the abused might return into the arms of their oppressor.
Belle waited, holding her breath.
“Are you sure? There won’t be any police?” Brynn asked hesitantly.
“I promise.” Belle nodded.
Brynn took a deep inhale, wincing before she let it out. “Okay. I—I can’t go back. He’ll kill us. I need help. My son . . . he deserves better,” Brynn said, easing somewhat back onto the bed.
Belle motioned to Doctor Burton that she was ready to begin.
After her patient’s arm was wrapped in a cast, Belle took a few pictures of the injuries with Brynn’s permission to keep in her file.
“Are you hungry?” Belle asked.
“I could use a cup of tea, and maybe some crackers.”
“Coming right up.” Belle glanced at the clock on the wall. She was past quitting time, but it didn’t matter anymore. This was why she’d gone into medicine. To help women like this.
Because I couldn’t save my mother.
Rounding the corner, she dug in her pocket for her credit card.
“Good evening.” The deep voice rumbled, sending a bolt of lust through her body. She snapped her head up to find the sheriff in a pair of jeans that clung to his muscular thighs and a T-shirt that said “Seaview Construction” across his broad chest.
“Like what you see?” He chuckled, and her cheeks flushed hot.
“Are you stalking me now?” she hissed.
His brow furrowed and he held up his hands as if to placate her. “Darlin’, I’m the man who catches the criminals, and from what I can tell, the only crime being committed here is that scowl across your beautiful face.”
Heat flooded over her. Her head rang as she tried to form a sentence that made sense enough after a response like that. Irritation prickled her skin. “Why are you here, then?” She crossed her arms over her chest.
His eyes dropped before flicking back
