“You remember that girl on Instagram that you showed me? Nathan’s ex?” Sierra pushed.
Now that woke me up.
I allowed my feet to hit the floor beside the bed and said, “Yes.”
“She’s here,” she whispered. “Eerie is here.”
“What?” I stood up. “How do you know? You haven’t even been to work yet.”
“Actually, I have,” she said. “I left my purse at work yesterday before I came to help you. I came this morning to retrieve it because I have to go get a prescription from the pharmacy.”
I frowned. “You saw her?”
“She’s very distinctive,” Sierra pointed out. “Yes, I saw her. And her husband.”
“Eerie doesn’t have a husband. She has a creepy brother,” I told her. “What’s she doing there?”
Please don’t say working. Please don’t say working.
Eerie was an RN like us.
Sadly, she’d started to work at the same hospital as me right around the time I was forced to transfer. The other hospital I’d been working at in Kilgore had decided to close its doors.
Though, I had to admit, working where I was working now was great for me. My commute was ten minutes shorter, I got to work with Sierra, and most of the time I could snag a cup of coffee on the way.
“She had a baby,” Sierra whispered. “And the baby is in the NICU.”
I groaned. “Fuuuuck.”
Sierra started to snicker. “The baby’s pretty cute, though. He’s only twenty-nine weeks. Head full of spiky blonde chicken hair.”
I snickered.
Sierra and her love for spiky chicken hair.
“Wonderful.” I pressed my hand to my face and groaned.
“What are your plans for today?” Sierra asked. “Do you want to go to lunch?”
I wiped the sleep from my eyes as I said, “I can’t. Yesterday was awful. Plus, we have to work.”
“We have plenty of time,” she said. “If you leave right now, we can grab The Back Porch.”
I looked at the clock.
I had two hours until my shift.
“I’m not dressed,” I said. “And my hair needs… something.”
“Your hair is probably still perfectly in place. I used enough hairspray on it to last a lifetime. Go get your face done up, grab your bag, and meet me there. I’ll give you forty-five minutes. I have to tell you about this medicine I have to take.”
Sierra, as of two weeks ago, had decided that she was going to have her own baby.
Like me, she was single and wasn’t really willing to mingle.
Unlike me, she felt as if something was missing from her life.
Where I thought it was cake, Sierra thought it was a baby.
So she’d had an appointment with a doctor that was going to help her get pregnant.
Hell, last time we’d been at work during lunch, I’d helped Sierra choose from possible sperm donors through a registry.
“Fine,” I said. “If my hair’s a mess, it’s on you.”
“If your hair is a mess, I’ll braid it and make it badass,” she countered. “See you in a bit.”
I got up and reluctantly moved through my morning routine.
Once I had my teeth brushed, eyeliner and mascara in place, I slipped into my soft lilac scrubs that we wore in the NICU and slipped my feet into my favorite lilac-colored Crocs.
When I got to the living room, I picked up my massive bag that was still holding my computer and jewelry box.
Slipping it onto my shoulder, I walked to the door which I’d barricaded with my recliner the night before.
It wouldn’t have held whoever decided to come into my place off for long, but it’d given me enough courage to stay there that night.
The cops had thankfully been very nice about doing a walk through after taking my report, and the moment that they’d left, I’d gone about shoving the chair into place.
I just wished I could get it behind the door again once I left.
Sighing in annoyance at the fact that I wouldn’t be able to do that, and I’d have to leave my place unattended for a bit while the super came to fix my lock—again—I closed it behind me and acted like I locked it in case anyone was watching.
It wasn’t a surprise at all to see the drug dealer at my car again.
That was where he liked to conduct his business.
Keeping my eyes downcast, I got into my car and backed out without once making eye contact.
It was only when I was pulling out that I looked up to see the drug dealer grinning.
Asshole.
I arrived at the restaurant with minutes to spare and smiled when Sierra got out of her car and hurried to me.
“How did last night go?” she asked with a grin.
I groaned.
“Last night was awful,” I admitted. “I was the reason that the cake spilled all over the floor—which I know you heard about from somebody by now. And after I left and arrived home it was to find my place broken into.”