Lured By My Master

by Jenna Jacob

The next morning, I was a nervous wreck. Getting ready for work, I spilled my coffee down the front of my scrubs and had to change before I even left the house. Arriving at the hospital without any other catastrophes, I locked up my purse, then turned to clock in. Sam was leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest, like a dozen times before. His eyes were sunken in as if he hadn’t slept for a week, and his lips were drawn tightly together. Tears stung the backs of my eyes, but I blinked them away as I fought the urge to run and leap into his arms.

  “Good morning, Cin.”

  I swallowed down the ball of emotion lodged in my throat and nodded. “Morning, Sam.”

  “I just came down to see if you were all right.”

  I nodded as I fought the tears now blurring my vision.

  He cleared his throat and stared at a spot on the wall behind me. “I know I told you I needed a couple days to think, but…”

  Don’t say it. Please, god. Don’t let him say it.

  “It’s okay, Sam. I understand.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes. I wasn’t ever honest with you…or fair. I know that now. I…I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.” He paused as if gathering himself together. “See you around, Cin.”

  When he turned and left, my chin quivered and I bit my lips together, choking back a sob. But I wasn’t going to give up. Not without a fight. Not without proving to Sam that I could be the woman of his dreams and more. Unfortunately, it was up to him. Would he be willing to risk his heart and take a chance with me again?

  Time would tell.

  Liz strolled in and gave me a hug. “I passed Sam in the hall. You okay?”

  With a sniff, I nodded, then sent her a watery smile. “I will be. I’ll see you out on the floor.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  I didn’t see Sam again that day or the next. While it was difficult to remain positive, I wasn’t going to allow myself to slide back into a dark chasm. Instead, I began to get comfortable in my own skin and started looking at myself through my own eyes. Not what I thought others should, or rather, wanted to see.

  It was as if I’d knocked a giant chip off my shoulder.

  And it felt really good.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  After running to the grocery store, dry cleaners, and post office, I grabbed some dinner, then climbed into a steaming-hot bubble bath, sipping wine. I should have taken a quick shower and gone to bed. The hour was late, but I didn’t care. I needed this reprieve…this erstwhile ritual of indulgence. Most of my nights when I was single, I’d spoiled myself in this manner. And since I was single again, I found the wine and bubbles offered a unique and comforting symmetry once again.

  After taking a sip of wine, I closed my eyes and rested the back of my head on the porcelain tub, when a loud banging came from my front door. Cursing, I set the glass down. I flipped the lever with my toe and began to drain the tub, then stood and quickly dried myself off. All the while, the pounding continued. Padding down the hall, I tied the sash of my robe, then tiptoed to the portal and peered through the peephole. The warmth the wine had provided instantly vanished as a cold chill shook my entire frame.

  Darnell. The demented prick had tracked down my apartment.

  Suddenly Sam’s words flooded back to me. If you ever need me, call! I’ll drop everything to come help you. Yes, I’d known he would, but that was before I’d fucked everything up and he’d walked away. I needed help, but I wanted it from Sam.

  Easing away from the door and the incessant pounding, I prayed the wooden barrier was strong enough to keep Darnell out. Sprinting to my purse, I grabbed my cell and brought up Sam’s number. My finger hovered over the call button as indecision claimed me.

  “Wake up, baby. You’re lover’s home,” Darnell called, his words slurred as if he were drunk.

  Revulsion spiked.

  I pressed the button to call Sam.

  “Cin? Is everything all right?”

  “I-I’m sorry to bother—”

  “What’s wrong?” he demanded.

  “Darnell. He’s outside my apartment. I think he’s drunk.”

  Fighting the knee-jerk reaction to apologize to Sam, tell him I’d handle it, and hang up was a far more brutal battle than I’d expected.

  The old Cin railed inside my head, scolding me for not simply calling the cops.

  But the new me, the one no longer surrounded in a fortress of walls, needed Sam’s strength, his control. Needed him to make the maniac outside my door go away and calm the fear within me, whether it proved me weak or not.

  “Hang up and call 911. I’m on my way.”

  “Allisinda,” Darnell called out in a demented singsong voice. “Open up, baby. I’ve got a big, hard present for you.”

  Bile rose in the back of my throat.

  Following Sam’s instructions, I called the police. While the emergency operator kept me on the line, I raced to the kitchen, grabbed a butcher knife, and retrieved my pepper spray. Standing in the middle of my living room, trembling, I wedged the phone between my shoulder and ear and waited for help to arrive.

  Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed. I didn’t know if those particular officers were coming to help me or some other unfortunate soul. The operator assured me over and over that help was on the way, but it seemed an interminable amount of time had passed and still nothing.

  Darnell was growing more impatient and angrier as the seconds ticked by.

  “I’m afraid this idiot is going to break down my door,” I confessed to the low-keyed woman on the other end of the line.

  “Just a couple more minutes and the officers will be there,” she assured. “Stay cool. Stay with me.”

  Outside my door, I heard shouts and a loud, dull thud.

  “Allisinda, you bitch. You called the fucking cops?” Darnell yelled. “Get your black ass out here and get me out of this mess, you stupid whore.”

  “You have the right to remain silent.”

  The sound of another man’s voice was music to my ears. “They’re here. They’ve got him. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Good luck, Miss Noland,” the operator replied, then hung up.

  I closed my eyes and sucked in a shaky breath, then quickly put my weapons away before racing to the front door. Pressing my ear to the wood, I listened to the commotion unfolding on the other side.

  “Cin. Goddammit, come out here and tell them to let me go. I didn’t do a fucking thing to you. I only wanted to love you again.”

  Darnell continued screaming that I save him, and professing his love…well, when he wasn’t maligning my character with insulting slurs. I was certain my neighbors were cursing me for the drama unfolding in our usually quiet complex.

  “You! You cocksucker. This is all your fault,” Darnell growled. “Arrest that motherfucker. He’s the cracker who stole my woman.”

  “Get him out of here, and take him downtown,” a man barked.

  As Darnell’s screams began to fade, I slowly opened the door and peered out. Sam was pulling his wallet out of his pocket, then handed his license over to one of the officers. When he glanced my way, relief lit his eyes.

  “May I go inside with Miss Noland?” Sam asked the officer studying his ID.

  “Would you like Dr. Brooks to join us, ma’am?” the cop asked.

  “Yes. Please. Come inside.” I swung the door open wide.

  Sam followed the officers in, but instead of walking past me, he wrapped me in his arms and pulled me to his chest. His ragged breath spilled over my neck, hot and moist. His intoxicating scent filled my senses and made me lightheaded. The heat of his rugged body wrapped me in a blanket of safety and shelter. But of all the sensations rising inside, the sizzling current of desire burned brightest. The fiery conflagration Sam ignited spread from my toes and enveloped my body. Demand coursed through me, threatening to incinerate me from the inside out.

  It was all I could do to keep from falling to my knees and begg
ing him to forgive me…pleading that he’d give me a second chance.

  “I’m glad you called me, Cin,” Sam mumbled as he pressed his lips against the top of my head. “Come on. Let’s sit down. The police need to ask you some questions, I’m sure.”

  As he released me, I nodded. “Thank you for coming. I appreciate it.”

  “Where’s your brother? Why wasn’t he here with you?” Sam asked.

  I dropped my gaze to the floor and pressed my lips together. “He had an unexpected change of plans. Matti wasn’t able to come and stay with me after all.”

  Sam’s body grew tense. Thunder rolled across his face, and lightning flashed in his eyes. He clenched his jaw as his posture stiffened as hard and unyielding as marble.

  Finally he inhaled a deep breath and nodded. “It looks like things are under control now. I’ll leave you to give your statement to the police.”

  Wearing his calm, controlled Dominant mien like an expensive Italian suit, Sam walked out the door. I knew my list of atonements had grown exponentially longer, and my hopes of a second chance with the man were dwindling fast. Fighting back my tears, I closed the door behind him. The snick of the lock seemed to reverberate with a finality I fought to accept.

  As I made my way to the couch to begin answering the officer’s questions, I wondered if the scale of disappointment between Sam and me would ever level out. Something inside me said I hadn’t even scratched the surface.

  ~

  Toward the end of my shift the next day, Jeb and Freddy brought a woman—a very pregnant woman—to the ER. My heart drummed in my chest as I darted furtive glances toward the double doors…waiting for Sam to come striding through. I didn’t have to wait long. And butterflies swooped and dipped the minute I saw him. Though his professional expression was all he allowed me to see, I still thought him the most gorgeous man on the planet.

  As Sam talked to the woman in that familiar calm and reassuring tone, my heart ached, remembering all the times I’d gotten upset or freaked out. He always used that same tenor on me. My fingers trembled over the keypad of my tablet as Freddy recited from the run sheet.

  “We’re going to do all we can to keep junior in there cooking for a few more weeks,” Sam reassured the worried mother.

  I set the tablet down and smiled at the woman. Suddenly her face contorted, and she let out an ear-piercing scream. Sam quickly positioned himself between her legs and issued a curse. Glancing up at me, he rattled off the list of instruments he needed. Dashing around the room, I collected the items and set them on a tray, but as soon as I lifted it, the mother threw her arms up. The sterile instruments scattered all over the floor.

  “Goddammit,” Sam barked, shooting me an angry glare. “We don’t have time for this.”

  Turning away, I prepared a second tray as I fought back tears. Never, in all the times I’d worked alongside Sam, had he ever lashed out so vehemently…at any nurse.

  “Dr. Brooks?” the mother wailed. “Is my baby—”

  “Forgive me, Gretchen.” Sam’s tone immediately softened. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. But it looks like junior has decided he’s ready to join this big ol’ world. Everything is going to be fine, I promise. Try to relax. Take some deep breaths.”

  Relax. Take some deep breaths. Sam had spoken those same words to me in the past. I felt myself beginning to spiral into a wasteland of regret. But I sucked in a deep breath and delivered the tray of instruments to him. He barely raised his eyes at me, then gave me a curt nod.

  “Nurse Noland, would you please call a neonatologist and his team to come down here?”

  “Yes, Sir. Right away.”

  Sam jerked his head up and flashed me a look I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Was it sorrow? Disappointment? I wasn’t sure. But before I could try to analyze his strange expression, he looked away. My fingers were still trembling as I rang the neonatal unit.

  The mother screamed again, and I watched as a tiny, purple-skinned, wet baby girl slid into Sam’s waiting hands. He quickly tied and cut the umbilical cord before wrapping the limp infant in a cotton blanket. There was too much blood rushing from the mother. I knew that wasn’t a good sign.

  With a ringing telephone pressed to my ear, I stopped one of the nurses in the hallway and told her to gather reinforcements. Seconds later, the room was a flurry of activity. While Sam tried to stabilize the mom, I worked on clearing the baby’s airway. Thankfully the neonatologist rushed into the room, and after handing off the infant, I moved in to help Sam. My body hummed being so close to him. His heat surrounded me and I drank it in, savoring the sensation. But it was the familiar scent of his cologne that sent a flash of bittersweet memories to spool through my brain. Shaking off the sorrow that filled me, I watched as Sam packed the mother’s uterus with sterile towels. I knew he was preparing to take her to surgery.

  “I’ll call ahead and have the OR set up a room for you,” I offered in a low voice.

  “Tell them I need it stat,” he whispered.

  “Of course.”

  Sam placed his hand on the mother’s knee. “Gretchen, you have an awful lot of bleeding happening here. What do you say you and I go up to surgery, and I’ll get that taken care of?”

  “Do I have a choice?” she asked, suddenly turning ashen.

  Sam sent her a crooked smile, meant to put her at ease. But I could see the worry in his stunning blue eyes. “No, not really. But I’ll be quick. I promise.”

  While I was on the phone with the surgery department, the little baby let out a loud, long cry. Sam and I shared a brief glance of relief, but it was far too short.

  “What about my little girl? Can I hold her?” Gretchen gasped.

  “Not yet. They’re still cleaning her up. She’s a tiny one, but she’s got a good set of lungs.” He smiled. “She’ll be waiting for you up in Neonatal ICU when you get out of surgery. Don’t worry, Momma, you’re both in good hands.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the neonatal team placed the infant in an incubator and quickly wheeled her away.

  I hung up the phone and turned to Sam. “They’ll be ready for you in room six.”

  Together we loaded up the mother. Once again, the heat and scent of his body played havoc with my concentration. I wanted to thread my fingers through his soft hair, touch his lips, and press my mouth to his. Because I was lost in the fantasies that were once my reality, Sam had to remind me—twice—to release the lock on the bed. After flashing me a scowl, he wheeled the mother out the door.

  Watching him go, my heart twisted.

  Turning away, I blinked back my tears and began helping the others clean up the trauma unit. When another emergency came through the doors, I knew it was going to be a late night. Even Metcalf stayed to help, which was a rarity.

  At a quarter to ten, I punched the time clock and retrieved my purse. Tired and ready to go home, I slogged through the unit, toward the double doors. But before I could reach them, Metcalf stopped me and asked for a minute of my time. Curious, I followed him into an empty trauma unit, or rather, one I assumed was empty. Stepping inside, I found Sam with his hands in his pockets, wearing a grim expression.

  “Did Gretchen—”

  “She’s doing fine,” he confirmed. “I asked to speak with you because I wanted to be the one who told you.”

  “Told me what?”

  Sam scrubbed a hand through his hair and blew out an explosive sigh. “I’ve asked Doctor Metcalf to bar you from my team here in the ER.”

  Like machine-gun fire, shock ricocheted through me. My lungs seized and my heart tripped double time. A dizzying wave made the room spin, and I sent up a silent prayer that I wouldn’t pass out. Placing my palm against the wall, I used the surface as an anchor to keep my knees from giving out. A look of guilt crawled briefly across Sam’s face, and I knew I’d failed to mask my shock and anguish. But then again, why should I hide the proof of what he’d done to me? The old Cin certainly would have…would have kept a sto
ny exterior in place, then laid into Sam like a banshee. Never, ever would the old me have allowed him to witness the devastation he’d just inflicted.

  But then Sam didn’t have a clue that I no longer was that woman.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I looked him directly in the eyes. “I appreciate you informing me yourself, Dr. Brooks. I will refrain from assisting you in any capacity from here on out.”

  Sam blinked. Confusion was written all over his face.

  “Well, that went better than expected,” Metcalf drawled. “Good night, all.”

  As soon as the other doctor left the room, Sam cocked his head and studied me for several long seconds. “That’s it?”

  “I’m not sure what else you want me to say. I’m sorry you find my skills…lacking?”

  “You know better than that,” Sam bit back as his brows slashed in suspicion. “What’s happened to you?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t understand your—”

  “Why aren’t you trying to fight me?”

  I shrugged. “Because you’re the physician, Dr. Brooks. If you no longer want me on your team, that’s your prerogative.”

  “You’re an extremely competent nurse, but I think, given our…history, it’s probably easier on both of us this way.”

  “I agree. If you have nothing further, I’d like to go home now, Doctor.”

  A glimmer of sadness skittered over his eyes as he nodded. “No. Nothing else. Have a good night, Nurse Noland.”

  “You, too.”

  As I walked to my car sadness spilled over me, but along with it, a strange combination of victory and defeat. Victory that I hadn’t turned into a raving bitch and verbally ripped into him, like an escapee from the psych ward. Defeat that he no longer desired me to work alongside him. The realization only made me anxious for my appointment with Liz and her Doms tomorrow night. Placing all my eggs in one basket was a big risk, but I had nothing left to lose. I’d already lost him.

  Hopefully, if this all worked out right, Sam would see that I wasn’t the same woman I used to be. And maybe, just maybe, he’d change his mind, too, about everything.

  ~