On the Run: Instalovers, #3
By C. Hallman
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About this ebook
It was just supposed to be another boring shift at the hospital.
One minute I'm watching the seconds tick by, the next I get a call from the local prison telling me they're about to bring in an injured prisoner.
I still don't quite understand how I ended up running from the cops that night.
Well… at least I have a hot as hell convict in tow.
"I should probably take them off then," I manage to say. The words come out more like a breath than a sentence. He gets on his knees behind me and starts pulling down my scrubs in an excruciatingly slow pace. He starts kissing me on my newly exposed skin. Inch by inch he pulls them down, peppering kisses around my thighs and calves as he goes. My head falls back as the feeling fills my body with blissful sensations, all of which are fueling my desire. I step out of my pants as soon as I feel them puddled around my feet. I'm left wearing only panties and a bra, but even that feels like too much right now. I turn to find Reed back on his feet. He is about to open his mouth to say something but I'm already on him...
*This is a standalone, 25k steamy novella with a badass heroine. No cheating and HEA guaranteed.*
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On the Run - C. Hallman
1
Icheck the time in the corner of the computer screen again. It is 2 AM, and I still have four hours of boredom until my shift ends. I groan and start taping my pencil on the desk of the nurse's station, like I often do when I am bored out of my mind. I forgot to bring my book and have read the magazines from the waiting room twice already. The halls are empty and quiet in our tiny clinic in the middle of nowhere. Only the faint sound of some beeping machines coming from the rooms closest to me break the eerie silence. I check all the screens for the fiftieth time with the same outcome, our three patients are all sleeping. This is a small-town hospital and there are only two of us working tonight. We switch off sleeping to pass the night. I have already slept for a few hours, and now I am letting Tanja, the other nurse, sleep for a while. I get up and walk to the fridge. When I open it, I am not surprised, but still somehow disappointed when the contents are the same as they were ten minutes ago. I close the fridge door with a sigh and walk back to the chair in front of my desk. The moment my butt touches the cushion the phone rings and the loud noise startles me so much that I jump right back to my feet. I grab the phone and answer with a rehearsed, Nurse’s station, this is Evie.
A deep voice greets me with a sleepy and a bit annoyed sounding, Hello Miss Evie, this is Rick Bailey from the Crestwood Correctional facility. How are you doing?
Doing good,
I respond with confusion. The correctional facility? Why are they calling the nurses station in the middle of the night? My silent question was answered by the voice on the other end of the line immediately after it went through my mind.
Well, I'm afraid I’ll have to bring one of my inmates over to you. There was a stabbing and both, our nurse and doctor are out. Now I can't reach either of them for some reason.
Oh, okay,
I say with genuine surprise. This explains why he sounds so annoyed. They usually don’t bring prisoners to this hospital because it is not secure. They also have their own medical station and staff. I’ve been working here for a year and a half now and I’ve only seen one inmate brought here so far.
How bad is it? Do I need to call in the surgeon?
I’m already reaching for the phonebook we have with all the doctor’s emergency phone and pager numbers, but to my surprise, he says, No, I don’t think that will be necessary. It looks to me like he only needs a few stitches. I would like to keep this whole thing on the down low if possible. I am sure you would do just fine sewing him up quickly so we can get him back here as soon as possible.
I’m about to protest and tell him we really should call a doctor in to take a look at him, but before I can get out a word he adds, Ok then, they left here twenty minutes ago so they should get there soon. You have a good day now.
The phone goes dead the instant he is done talking. Now it’s my turn to be annoyed. What an ass. I slam the phone on the station just to pick it right back up and call Dr. Martin in. I don’t give a damn what Rick Ass-hat Bailey thinks.
As I walk to the room where Tanja is sleeping, my annoyance turns to anger. Who does this guy think he is, making medical decisions? If someone gets stabbed they need to see a doctor, not a nurse that’s been on the job for less than two years. I try to not let the painful memories that have been haunting me for the past five years emerge and just try to concentrate on the present, but this is too close to what happened to Jason. It takes all my effort to push those upsetting thoughts down. When I open the door, the light from the hallway fills the room enough for Tanja to wake up. She is sitting on the bed, looking at me with her blue eyes and her blond hair messy from sleep. What’s going on? Need my help with Mr. Walker in room five?
No, he is sleeping like a baby. We are having an inmate come in from the prison. Apparently, someone got stabbed and they can’t reach their medical staff.
I fill her in with the rest of the story as we walk over to the intake room and prepare. Tanja is my friend but even she doesn’t know about Jason, so I try to act normal and not show her how I really feel inside. How terrified I am of what is about to come through this door. Violent pictures of someone stabbed, and half dead being dragged in here start to flood my mind, making my heart race and my hands begin to shake uncontrollably.
Calm yourself, I keep telling myself. I carefully move around so my back is always turned to Tanja even as she talks to me. She sounds curious, maybe even a bit excited about our late-night patient. A stark contrast to what is going on in my head at the moment. My thoughts are interrupted by the door swinging open and three large figures come through. To my relief the prisoner is walking, his head is down, looking at the floor as the two officers dressed in dark blue uniforms flank him. They are leading him with what looks like an iron grip on his arms. At the sight, the calmness I tried to will on myself finally washes over me. At first glance, he looks a bit beaten up but not like he is about to die. I take a deep breath and wave the three over to the bed.
He can lay down here,
I tell them and tap the bed with my hand. Then I step back to give him room to get to the bed. As I watch the three men approach, I become aware of how large all three of them are. The prisoner is muscular with broad shoulders and even with his head down, I can tell he is taller than the two officers. They must have sent the biggest prison guards they have on staff to match his size.
When he is right in front of me he looks up and our eyes meet. My breath hitches when I get a good look at his face. His eyes are bloodshot, red and swollen, they must have pepper sprayed him, I conclude. There is also a