Twisted Hate: Chapter 8

As an ER resident, I saw some crazy shit, and the last week was no exception.

A man whose car collided with a fence and arrived at the hospital the fence post stuck through him? Check. (He was currently in the ICU, but chances were, he’ll survive).

A patient who stripped off all their clothes and ran around the ER naked before two nurses finally caught them? Check.

Someone with a broken-off cucumber stuck in their rectum? Check.

Total insanity, but that was why I’d chosen emergency medicine over surgery, which my father had pushed for. He wanted to brag about having a heart surgeon for a son, but I thrived on chaos. On the thrill of coming into work every day and not knowing what challenges lay ahead. It kept me on my toes, though I could do without removing vegetables from other people’s orifices for a long, long while.

“Get some rest,” Clara said as I clocked out after another grueling night shift. “You look like a zombie.”

“False. I always look perfect. Right, Luce?” I winked at Lucy, another nurse. She giggled in agreement while Clara rolled her eyes.

“See you tomorrow. Try not to miss me too much.” I rapped my knuckles against the counter on my way out the door.

“We won’t,” Clara said.

At the same time Lucy chirped, “We’ll try!”

A chuckle rose in my throat, but by the time I stepped outside, it’d already faded, crushed by bone-deep exhaustion. However, instead of heading home for some much-needed shuteye, I made a left toward the north side of the hospital campus, where the Legal Health Alliance Clinic was located.

I’d somehow misplaced my charger before my shift and my phone was at eight percent, so the backup charger I kept at LHAC was my only hope of keeping my all-important cell alive.

When I arrived at the clinic, Barbs’s car was the only one in the tiny parking lot squished next to the building. Most of the staff didn’t trickle in until half past eight, but she opened and closed the office every day, so she kept longer hours.

“Hey, beautiful,” I quipped when I entered the reception area.

“Hey, handsome,” she said with a wink.

When I’d volunteered at LHAC as a med student, Barbs kept me supplied with home-cooked pastries and sage advice like

She was one of the reasons I’d continued volunteering despite my crazy residency schedule. The clinic staff had become my surrogate family over the years, and even though I only had time to drop by once or twice a week in between shifts, they kept me grounded.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you today.” Barbs tucked her pen behind her ear. “A little birdie told me you just came off a night shift.”

I didn’t ask how she knew. Barbs was the most plugged-in person in the Thayer Hospital system. She knew things about people before did.

“Trust me, I’m going home and crashing soon.” I scrubbed a hand over my face, trying to keep my eyes open. “I just need to grab my charger.”

I’d volunteered at LHAC so long I had my own desk. The bulk of my work involved staffing its free health clinic for uninsured health patients, but I also consulted on various legal cases that required a medical opinion.

“Before you do, you should say hi to our new research associate.” Barbs nodded at the kitchen door down the hall. “You’ll like her. She’s feisty.”

I raised my eyebrows. “New associate already?”

LHAC had been inundated with new cases recently. Lisa, the legal director, had been talking about hiring a short-term associate to help out until the rush was over, but I hadn’t expected it to happen so soon.

“Yep. Third year at Thayer Law.” Barbs’s eyes gleamed in a way that sent my guard shooting straight up. “Smart girl. Pretty too, if a bit eager. She started on Monday, and I found her waiting outside fifteen minutes before the clinic opened.”

“Congrats, you just described half the girls at Thayer.” A majority of the university’s students were Type A to a fault. “Don’t think about it,” I added when Barbs opened her mouth. “I don’t do office romances.”

I had a reputation as a player, but I would never hook up with someone I worked with, not even in a volunteer setting.

Barbs didn’t bat an eye at my foul language—she’d said and heard much worse at the clinic—though her face did pucker in disappointment. She fancied herself the hospital matchmaker, and she’d been trying to matchmake me for years.

“Besides, if I did date anyone from the clinic, it’d be you,” I added teasingly.

She maintained her frown for ten seconds before it melted into a smile. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Me, lie?” I placed a hand over my chest. “Never.”

She shook her head. “Go. Take that charm elsewhere. You’re too young for me. And come back to me after you’ve seen her,” she called after me, laughing when I tossed her an exasperated look over my shoulder.

I grabbed my charger from my desk and pocketed it. Then, curious despite myself, I headed to the kitchen to meet the new associate. I might as well see what all the fuss was about.

I pushed open the kitchen door, my mouth curving into a welcoming—

My smile disappeared faster than candy at a kid’s birthday party.

Because sitting in the middle of the room, drinking coffee out of favorite mug and examining a stack of papers, was none other than Jules Ambrose.

My blood pressure spiked.

No.

no. I must’ve fallen asleep after my shift and entered a vivid nightmare because there was Jules was the new research associate. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel.

She glanced up at the sound of the door opening, and I would’ve taken great pleasure in the way her face paled had I not been equally thunderstruck.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Our voices mingled in a discordant melody—her words pitched high with stress, mine low with horror.

A muscle jumped in my jaw. “I work here.” I released the doorknob and crossed my arms over my chest. “What’s your excuse?”

“

work here.

work in the ER.” Jules arched an eyebrow. “I see you’re going senile already. That’s what happens when your brain uses all its limited faculties on basic upkeep.”

Goddammit. I didn’t have time for this. I came here to pick up my charger, and now I was stuck arguing with the she-devil when all I wanted was sleep.

But it was too late. There was no backing down unless I wanted her to rub getting the last word in my face until the end of time.

“Don’t project, it’s unbecoming. Just because you have lower than average mental capacity doesn’t mean everyone else does.” A smirk touched my mouth when her eye twitched. “As for the clinic, I’ve been volunteering here since I was in med school.”

Translation: it was space. I’d claimed it first.

Was that a juvenile way to look at things? Perhaps. But there were so few places I felt truly at home. The clinic was one of them, and Jules’s presence would smash that peace to smithereens.

“It’s not too late to quit.” I leaned against the wall, keeping my eyes locked to hers in a silent challenge. “You’d have more fun spending your free time elsewhere. I’m sure there’s a poor sap who’s willing to fill in the gaps in your schedule if you’re bored.”

“I could say the same for you, Judgy McJosh.” Jules sipped her coffee out of my fucking mug. “Or have you run out of women who’ll fall for your bullshit? Unless you’re using the volunteer excuse to pick up women, which is just sad.”

I closed the distance between us in three strides and slammed my hands on the table hard enough to rattle the highlighters lined up next to her papers. I leaned forward until our faces were only inches apart and our breaths mingled in a cloud of animosity.

“Quit.” The word vibrated, taut and furious, between us.

Jules’s eyes glowed with challenge. “No.”

Her slow, precise enunciation ratcheted my blood pressure up another notch.

My knuckles dug into the hard wood as I fisted my hands on the table. My heart pounded so hard its drumbeat echoed in my head, taunting me.

I didn’t know why one thing bothered me so much. Jules was the new research associate. So what? I didn’t come into the clinic often, and I didn’t have to talk to her if I didn’t want to. Plus, hers was a temporary position. She’d be gone in a few months.

But the mere idea of her here, in my haven, drinking out of my mug and laughing with my friends and filling every molecule of air with her presence, made it really fucking hard to breathe.

I forced oxygen into my lungs with each count.

A few feet away, the fridge hummed, oblivious to the battle playing out in the kitchen. Meanwhile, the clock ticked its way toward the half hour, reminding me I should be long gone by now.

Shower. Bed. Blissful sleep.

They called my name, yet here I was, face to face with Jules, unwilling to wave the white flag in our silent war.

Even at this close proximity, I couldn’t spot a single flaw in her creamy skin. I could, however, count the individual lashes framing her hazel eyes and spot the teeny tiny mole above her upper lip.

The fact I noticed those things pissed me off even more.

“I thought you were all about corporate law. Big bucks. Prestige.” Each syllable came out cold and sharp enough to sting. “The clinic may not be as fancy as Silver & Klein, but we do important work here. It’s not a playground for you to mess around in until you leave for the ‘big leagues.’”

It was a low blow. I knew it even as I said it.

Jules probably needed a job to tide her over until she passed the bar exam, and there was nothing wrong with that.

But my frustration—over my father, over Alex, over the empty, gnawing feeling in my chest that had plagued me for more nights than I cared to admit—turned me into someone I didn’t recognize and didn’t particularly like. Normally, I could pretend I was the same carefree guy I’d been in school, but for some reason, my mask never lasted long with Jules.

Perhaps it was because I didn’t care whether she saw the worst of me. There was a certain liberation in not giving a shit about what other people thought.

“How like you to assume the worst of me.” If my voice was cold, Jules’s was an inferno, incinerating the sharp edges of my irritation until only the ashes of shame remained.

“What, you think I’m going to swan in here every week, push a few papers around, and to work just because I’m a temp? Newsflash, asshole, when I commit to doing something, I do it I don’t care if it’s a big law firm, a nonprofit, or a fucking lemonade stand at the end of a dead-end road. You’re not better than me just because you’re a doctor, and I’m not the devil just because I want a high-paying career. So you can take your sanctimonious attitude and shove it up your ass, Josh Chen, because ”

Silence blanketed the room, broken only by Jules’s ragged breaths. Her earlier cool had evaporated, replaced with flushed cheeks and blazing eyes, but for once, I didn’t take pleasure in riling her up.

I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I was too stunned to formulate an appropriate response.

Jules and I had exchanged more barbs than I could count over the years. She always gave as good as she got, but what happened just now…if I didn’t know better, I could’ve sworn she was actually hurt.

A hot poker of guilt stabbed at my chest.

I straightened and rubbed a hand over my face, wondering when the hell my life had gotten so complicated. I missed the days when Jules and I insulted each other with zero guilt or remorse, when my sister wasn’t in love with my ex-best friend, and when my best friend had still been my friend.

I missed the days when I was Now here I was, about to do something old Josh would’ve rather cut off his arm than do.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” I finally conceded. “It was a low blow, and I…” A muscle worked in my jaw.

“I’m sorry.”

I spit out the words. It was the first time I’d ever apologized to Jules, and I wanted to get it over as quickly as possible.

Just because I did the right thing didn’t mean I had to like it.

I braced myself for Jules’s gloating, but none came. Instead, she just stared at me like I hadn’t spoken.

I forged ahead. “However, the clinic important to me, and I don’t want our…differences to get in the way of our work. So I propose a truce.”

Proposing a truce might as well be surrendering, but I refused to let our animosity poison my time at the clinic. Everywhere else, fine. But not here.

Her brow wrinkled. “A truce.”

“Only when we’re in the clinic.” I wasn’t naive enough to think we could uphold any semblance of peace outside a work environment. “No insults, no snarky comments. We keep it professional. Deal?” I held out my hand.

Jules eyed it like it was a coiled-up cobra waiting to strike.

“Unless, of course, you don’t think you can do it.”

Satisfaction trickled through me when her lips thinned. I’d touched on a competitive nerve, as I knew I would.

She didn’t take her eyes off mine as she grasped my hand and squeezed. Hard.

For someone so small, she was fucking strong.

“Deal,” she said with a smile.

I smiled back through gritted teeth and squeezed even harder, relishing the way her nostrils flared at the pressure.

“Excellent.”

Forget what I said about being bored.

This was going to be an interesting few months.