Kimera Chapter 1

The OR had been busy as usual today, which was the way I liked it. I always preferred being occupied to twiddling my thumbs, especially at work. At home, I could always find something to do, even if it was just spending time with Toro. Thinking of my dog made me smile. He was such a sweetheart and made me laugh. I needed that.

I really liked my job as a nurse because I loved helping people. It was hard work, and sometimes the heartbreak was too much. You had to have ways to decompress. While at work, you had to appear calm, confident, and in command at all times. You broke down in private, even if it was in a linen closet or a bathroom for five minutes. Losing a patient made me want to cry every time. Watching their family be told the terrible news made my chest hurt.

All those thoughts were wiped from my head though as I headed to bed five to check on the young woman in recovery. She was my age, according to her chart, and I’d overheard yelling not long ago when a man was made to leave her bedside. It was unusual for them to let anyone back to sit in the recovery area. I wondered why they had let him and what caused her to insist on him being made to leave. The other staff were gossiping about it, but I was working and didn’t have time to find out why. Truthfully, it wasn’t any of my business. I was here to take care of her, not stick my nose in her personal business. The others should do the same.

As I eased back the curtain around her hospital bed, I saw her curled up in the fetal position. I swear I heard her sniffling. Lord, I hated to interrupt what sounded like a crying session, but I had to. Softly, I called out, “Excuse me, Miss. I need to take a look at your bandage. I’m sorry.”

She slowly uncurled herself and wiped her cheeks with her hands. I saw the wetness and how red her face was. Yep, she’d been crying. I couldn’t keep the sympathetic expression off my face. It made her snort, then she responded, “That’s fine…” She paused.

I saw her staring at my name badge. I was too far away for her to read it. I smiled to put her at ease and said, “I’m Kimera. Everyone calls me Kim, though.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I think I’ll call you Kimera. That’s a pretty name,” she said. I didn’t mind. I happened to like my name, but others found it hard to say for some reason, hence the shortening to Kim.

“Thank you. I love your name too. I’ve never heard it before. Do you mind if I ask where you’re from?” I asked as I came to her bedside to lower the sheet and lift her gown.

I was glad to see her bandage was clean. I left it in place. The surgeon would raise hell if a mere nurse were to mess with his surgical dressing. Most of them were like that. They might perform the surgery and be great at what they did, but most thought they were gods, and the rest of us were annoyances here to boss around. Those in the know knew that the nurses were the true healers, but we rarely got any credit. However, I hadn’t become one to gain recognition or accolades.

“My family is originally from Russia, and it means trinity. How about your name?” she asked.

“I have no clue. I’ve tried to find out its meaning, but it doesn’t seem to have one,” I explained with a shrug.

“Did you ask your parents?” Troian asked. I expected the question.

“I don’t have any. I grew up in foster care after I was ten. My granny who raised me didn’t know where they got it. She wouldn’t tell me anything about my birth parents, so I couldn’t ask. Granny said I was better off not knowing.” That was my short, concise answer. It was the truth, as unsatisfying as it was. I’d tried multiple times to get the child services staff to share my file. They told me there was nothing in it that revealed anything about my parents. I wasn’t sure I believed them, but what reason would they have to lie?

“Well, they gave you a very pretty and cool name. How does it look?” Her change of subject was welcome. I guess she noticed how uncomfortable talking about my parents made me feel.

I quickly answered her, “I can’t see the incisions, but the dressing is dry, and there’s no bleeding through, which is good. You’ll need to be careful. No bending or lifting. They did a robotic laparoscopic surgery, so you have three incisions. They’ve been stitched with dissolvable sutures and then glued together. For the next six to eight weeks, you’ll have restrictions that we’ll go over in a bit. Can I get you anything for pain? You’re due.”

She took a few moments to think, then she nodded and said, “Yes, thank you. I’d like that.”

I promised her I’d be back in a minute as soon as I got the medicine, and I explained how I’d put it in her IV so it would have an immediate effect. I didn’t think she knew how much pain she was in while we talked, and she cried. Her grimacing and restless movement told me that she was, and it wasn’t good to let it get too far out of control. She gave me a faint smile as I left.

In the med room, I quickly drew up the medicine and signed for it, as well as noted it on her electronic medical record. As promised, I was back in a jiffy. I cleaned the port on the IV line with alcohol and then injected the medicine. “There you go. That should help. You don’t want to let your pain get ahead of you. Don’t try to be stoic about it. You had surgery. It hurts,” I kindly hinted, hoping she’d take my advice. I’d seen patients think they had to be tough, and it ended up making their situation so much worse. I believe it slowed their healing time.

Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she asked, “What is that?” as the medicine hit her.

I grinned as I explained. Most people had no idea about the different kinds of meds. Most wouldn’t even ask the names of the medications they got, which wasn’t smart in my book. You should always know what you’re putting into your body, why you need it, and what it will do.

“It’s oxycodone mixed with Toradol. The oxycodone is an opioid, and the Toradol is an NSAID, a nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drug. It helps the pain med work better and reduces inflammation, which is common after surgery. They’ll switch you over to oral meds soon, but until we get your pain controlled, this is what they want you to have.”

“Thank you so much, Kimera—” She stopped as the curtain parted, and a huge scowling man walked into her cubicle. He was so tall I had to look way up at him. She shrank back, and my hackles went up. No way in hell was anyone going to hurt one of my patients. I watched as he registered her response, and I swear it looked like his face had fallen. His first words confirmed it.

“Don’t do that, Troian. I’d never hurt you. I just need to talk to you,” he said gruffly.

I didn’t know where my extra courage came from, but I moved to place myself between him and her, and I got close to him. I knew I was in his personal space, but I wanted him to focus on me, not my helpless patient. She wasn’t even an hour post-op and drugged to boot. She wasn’t in any condition to defend herself. I tipped my head back all the way so I could see his face. His left brow inched up.

Swallowing my niggling fear, I told him sternly, “You need to back up and leave. She’s in pain and recovering from surgery. She doesn’t need to be any more upset than she already is. What’s wrong with you guys? If you won’t leave, I’ll make you.”

Instead of getting angry like I expected, he got a somewhat amused expression. His lips twitched. He thought I was playing with him, didn’t he? His reply confirmed he did.

“Whoa, calm down there, Hotcake. No need to go all chihuahua on me. I’m not here to hurt, Troian. I just need to talk to her for a few minutes. There’s been a huge misunderstanding.”

His amusement and calling me hotcake and a chihuahua pissed me off. I’d show him a chihuahua. How about if I bit him? “Call me hotcake or chihuahua again, and you’ll see what I do. Leave,” I snapped back automatically, without thinking.

“Babe.” He sighed.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Babe. I hated random men who didn’t know me from Eve calling me names like that. I clenched my fists so I wouldn’t punch him. Doing that might lose me my job. He was triggering a very aggressive response in me. Worse than any I could recall, and I’d dealt with some real assholes. “One,” I uttered in warning.

“One what?” he asked with a sexy grin.

“Two,” I said. What is up with you finding his smile sexy? I chided myself. Focus.

“Kimera, it’s alright. I’ll talk to him for a minute, then he’ll leave. Won’t you, Spawn?” Troian said out of the blue.

“Kimera? I like it,” he told me as he winked at me.

“Like I care. Spawn, guess that’s apt. Spawn of the Devil, no doubt. Say what you have to say, then get lost. She’s gonna be asleep soon. I just gave her pain medicine,” I said with a huff.

I crossed my arms so I wouldn’t give in to my urge to take a swing at him. There was no way I’d leave her alone with him. He was massive and could crush her with one hand. His reply made me blink.

“One day soon, I’ll tell you how I got that name, but right now, I can’t flirt. I need to talk to my brother’s old lady,” he said as he casually walked past me and went to her bedside. A growl slipped out of me. God, I hope Troian hadn’t heard that. I couldn’t care less if he did, not that I intimidated him. I turned so I could watch him. I saw her grin, but I couldn’t see his face.

“What do you want to say, Spawn? I can’t think of anything we need to talk about. I’m tired. I want to sleep,” she said to him wearily as her eyelids drooped.

“I want you to know that I was the one who did the investigation and found out one of your cousins is in prison for running a prostitution ring. I’m sorry you heard what you did. It was just a precaution to check into you to be sure you weren’t involved. We’d have done it with anyone who was involved with our club. Lash didn’t believe you were. He’s hurting, sweetheart. You gutted him. Don’t be mad at him. If you have to be mad at someone, let it be me.”

Prison, prostitution ring, club? What the hell? That’s when it registered that he was wearing a leather vest. The kind worn by bikers. It read Iron Punishers MC on the back. In the middle was a skull with wings and what looked like flames. The background was white, and the skull and the rest were black. Stark, but still scary. The name Spawn was making more sense. They kept going back and forth.

From what she said, it appeared he and his club and a guy named Lash thought she was involved in a whoring business, as she called it. Her mention of having amnesia struck me. Did the doctors know that? Poor woman. I wanted to hug her. She seemed so alone to me, and I knew what that was like.

She said more, and he immediately apologized and used the excuse they had to be sure because of a past attempt to infiltrate his club. What the hell did these bikers do to have people wanting to do that? Likely, it was illegal, so why wouldn’t they welcome prostitutes? It would make them money if she hooked up with one of the guys like it sounded like she had. He tried to say none of them believed she was, and it was all paranoia. His remark about being an old lady didn’t make sense to me. She wasn’t old.

“Maybe in your world, but in mine, I can do anything I want. It’s over. Once I’m cleared to leave the hospital, I’m gone. I don’t want to be with people who lie to me and think terrible things about me. I don’t want to see or talk to any of you,” she said, teary-eyed.

Her tears made me want to kick his ass out, but until he tried to hurt her or she asked me to do it, I’d watch. Maybe letting her have her say would be good for her.

“Babe, where will you go? It’s not safe. You have to know he won’t let you go. He can’t. Losing you will kill him.” I heard what sounded like pleading and worry in his tone. Wow, he could act. He made it sound like he cared.

She snorted. “He’ll soon be back to screwing anything with a pussy. I was just a temporary diversion. He’ll forget my name in a month. Now, I’m done. I need to sleep. Go.” She closed her eyes.

“Fuck,” he muttered. That was my cue.

Before he could go at her again, I intervened. “You heard her. It’s time for you to go. Don’t send any of your other friends back here. If you do, I’ll have security throw you all out. She’s made herself clear, I think. Don’t you? Leave,” I hissed.

“I’d like to see you try that, Hotcake. Don’t get your tail in a twist. I’m going, but I make no promises that Lash won’t be back here again. That’s his woman, and even if she’s pissed at him, they love each other. She has to let him make this right.”

“I don’t think that’s happening. Now, you need to go. I have other patients to check on, and I’m not leaving you alone with her.”

He studied me for a long moment, which was unsettling. Then he gave me a chin lift and turned to walk off. I started to relax as he did until he looked back and said, “I’ll be seeing you, Kimera.”

My heart almost jumped out of my chest. What did that mean? Was he threatening me? Unease filled me. I didn’t want any trouble, but I couldn’t walk away and leave my patient either. I’d have to be careful.

As I got back to work, I had to fight to push Spawn to the back of my mind. It wasn’t long before Troian was moved to the ICU for observation. She’d thanked me before going. As I watched her be wheeled away, I felt sad. She seemed like someone I could be friends with.

Friends, yeah, like I had any of those. The other nurses I worked with were only work acquaintances, and we didn’t spend time together outside of work. They had different interests than I did. Some had families and spent their free time with them. I wouldn’t want to interfere with that. The rest, the single ones, only seemed to want to go out and get drunk and find men. That didn’t interest me. As pathetic as it sounded, my one true friend was my dog, Toro. At least I wasn’t a cat lady.

I finished off my shift without any more drama. On the drive home, I thought about Spawn. I couldn’t stop myself. If I was being honest, the man did something to me. Yes, he was big and scary, but he was more than that. Hell, just say it, Kimera. The man was sex on two legs. He was hot as hell. A woman would have to be dead not to notice.

He was a giant. I bet he was six and a half feet tall. He was broad-shouldered, and his arms in his t-shirt were bulging with muscles. The tattoos that graced them only made them look bigger. His chest was wide and muscular. Again, the shirt didn’t do anything to hide it or what I bet were rock-hard abs underneath. His body tapered down to lean hips and long legs. His skin was very tan. After his height and build, his face and hair caught my attention.

His features were bold and put together in a way that made him a very handsome man. There was nothing pretty about him. He was all male. His face was clean-shaven, with the ever so faintest hint of facial hair above his lip and along his jaw. His eyes were the darkest brown I’d ever seen, with long, thick lashes. His hair was a medium brown with lighter golden strands. It was thick and hung almost to the top of his shoulders. It fell over his forehead a little way on the left side, giving him a rakish look. Put it all together, and he was hot and made me squirm. I didn’t notice guys, even the really good-looking ones, other than to acknowledge they were attractive. Why him? This thought occupied my brain not only for the rest of my drive but also into the evening.