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Authors: Victoria Wakefield

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BOOK: Dark Moon
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I felt a moment of
panic. Was he serious? Was I about to get busted for having wine on a Friday night,
in the safety of my dorm room?

Seeing my
expression, Dr. Reynolds quickly said, “I’m kidding. It’s a joke. It’s not my
business anyway. And your pizza is getting cold.” He pointed to the box in my
hand, the box that I was still using to try to mask my braless boobs.

“I can reheat it.”
Why was I doing this? Why not just leave? “Is there something wrong with your
niece?” I heard myself asking.

Dr. Reynolds
sighed. “I doubt it. My sister, Rose, is a bit overprotective. Hasn’t been able
to get in touch with Becky for three days, and she doesn’t live near here, so I
said I’d stop by and see if I could check on her.”

“My friend
Maryanne might know her,” I offered. “She knows everyone.”

“If you could ask
her, that would be great,” Dr. Reynolds said.

“I can let you
know when I’m next at the hospital.” I paused. “Shit, that’s right, you’re only
there on Tuesdays and Fridays. I won’t see you until Friday, a week.”

“Keeping up with
my schedule? And here I thought you’d barely noticed me.” This time when he
smiled I saw the adorable dimple in his left cheek.

“No,” I said,
trying to think of a good reason I’d know his schedule. But there wasn’t one.

“No worries,” he
said, letting me off the hook. Dr. Reynolds reached into his pocket and pulled
out a business card and a pen. “This is my personal cell phone,” he said,
handing me the card after he had scribbled his number on the back. “Please call
me if your friend knows a way to get in touch with Becky. I’m sure she’s fine,
but I’d like for Rose to have peace of mind.”

“Okay,” I replied,
trying to keep my voice even.

“Thanks,” Dr.
Reynolds said. “I’ve kept you long enough. Your boyfriend must be wondering
where you are.”

“I don’t have a
boyfriend.”
Why did I just say that?
Usually I would pretend that I
did
have a boyfriend, if a cute guy was talking to me. No matter how tempting,
I couldn’t pull someone else into my twisted life. I had to stay alone,
forever. Period. That way, if I turned into the monster I was destined to
become, no one else would be hurt, no lives ruined besides my own.

“Interesting to
know,” Dr. Reynolds was saying.

“I’ll talk to
Maryanne and get back to you.” I turned around abruptly.

“Thanks again,
Lana.” Hearing my name on his lips made my heart flutter. I looked back, not
sure what I would say, but Dr. Reynolds was already walking off.

“Dr. Reynolds,” I
called out.

“Yes?” He stopped
walking and turned around to face me.

“I’m twenty years
old. And if you want to turn me in to the authorities, then go for it.” It was
my best attempt at flirting.

“I’m sure that’s
not necessary, Ms. Luna,” he said, mimicking my tone. “And please call me
Michael. But not at the hospital. I wouldn’t want to stir up any rumors.”

“Of course not,
Michael.

My heart beating out of my chest, I walked into the building, forcing myself
not to look back to see if he was watching.

Chapter 5

“What in the hell
took you so long?” Maryanne demanded when I got back to our room. “I thought
you got lost on the way downstairs, or worse, the pizza delivery guy kidnapped
you to make you his sex slave.” Maryanne’s face went pale. “I’m sorry, that
wasn’t funny.”

I laughed. “Relax.
You don’t have to handle me with kid gloves.”

She looked
relieved. “So what was the delay? And are you alright? Your face is really
flushed!”

“I’m fine,” I
assured her. “I ran into someone from the hospital.”

“Huh?” Maryanne
looked confused. She tried to pour another glass of wine, then realized the
bottle was empty, and dissolved into a fit of giggles. “One sec.” She headed to
the kitchen to open the second bottle. “Thanks to Dougie for getting us two,”
she called out gleefully.

“I’m starving,”
Maryanne announced when she returned. “I put in our favorite movie while I was
waiting.”


Dirty Dancing
,”
we said in unison.

“Because what’s
pizza without a little Patrick Swayze?” I laughed.

We ate in silence,
intently watching the movie we had both seen at least two dozen times.

“Hey!” Maryanne
said suddenly. She snapped her fingers. “I just remembered. You never told me
who you ran into.”

Shit. I was
hoping you forgot.
But then again, I did need to ask if she knew Becky.

“Dr. Reynolds from
the hospital.” I tried to keep my voice normal. “He was looking for his niece.
Becky Dunn is her name. Do you know her?”

Maryanne looked
deep in thought. “I don’t think so,” she finally said. “But I can ask around.”

“Thanks,” I
replied.

I was glad that
Maryanne didn’t say anything else about Michael. She probably assumed that he
was a lot older than twenty-nine, and of course, she had no idea he was drop
dead gorgeous.

After the pizza
and second bottle of wine were gone, we both passed out. When I woke up the
next morning, my head felt fuzzy. It took me a minute to remember the night
before.
Shit.

The sun wasn’t up
yet, so it must be early, but I had to pee really badly and my mouth felt like
cotton. I reached down to grab my phone off the floor, where it was charging by
my bed. It was only four-thirty.

I got out of bed
slowly, hoping the room wouldn’t start spinning. It didn’t. I had only been
hung-over once in my life. It was after my parents told me the truth about
myself.

They drank
socially, and kept a large cabinet of liquor for when they entertained. I’d
taken a bottle of whiskey that was aged for like a million years in an oak
cask. Freaked out and pissed off at the world, I had drunk straight from the
bottle until I passed out. I’d woken up to find myself vomiting off the side of
my bed.

I shuddered at the
memory. I’d been very careful with alcohol since then; I’d rather die than feel
that way again. I was relieved that today I only felt slightly sick. I went to
the bathroom and then headed into the kitchen for some water and an aspirin.

Maryanne was still
sound asleep, so I quietly crawled back into bed and pulled the covers up to my
chin, even though I wasn’t cold. I stared at the ceiling, mulling over my
strange meeting with Michael the night before. Did he like me? Or did he flirt
like that with all the girls?

Somehow I couldn’t
imagine Michael looking at Nurse Evie the way he had looked at me. I sighed and
rolled over.

I had sworn off
men. I had to put Michael out of my mind. Next time I saw him, I’d be cool and
standoffish. He’d get the message.

But as much as I
tried to convince myself that I was
not
going to get involved with
Michael Reynolds, there was this nagging doubt in the back of my mind. Maybe,
just
maybe,
I could have a relationship with a man. Eventually tell him about my
dark history, warn him about my possibly darker future. Maybe he would
understand.

I knew it was
crazy talk, but yet I couldn’t stop myself. Yep, I was definitely in trouble.

###

The rest of the
weekend was uneventful. I had a lot of schoolwork to do, and I spent most of
the time in my dorm room working. Maryanne went out Saturday night, so I had
the place to myself. I ordered Chinese food and watched a
Breaking Bad
marathon. I was tempted to contact Michael and tell him that Maryanne hadn’t
been able to find out anything about Becky, but I didn’t want to encourage him.
He’d figure out that no call meant no news.

By the time Monday
arrived, I’d strengthened my resolve to have nothing to do with Michael. It was
a good thing the only day we were both at the hospital was Friday. And,
hopefully, I could avoid him on that day.

It was only my
second week at the hospital, and the nurse working the station where I signed
in for my shift was someone I had never met before. Her name was Janet.

“Nice to meet you,
Lana,” she said with a smile. “They need you to man the Cheer Cart today.”

“Um, I’m not sure
what that is,” I said apologetically. “This is my third day.”

“Oh!” Nurse Janet
laughed. “The Cheer Cart has candy, magazines, crossword puzzle books, decks of
cards, that kind of stuff. You take it from room to room and let the patients
decide if they want anything from it. It really makes their day. Well, some of
them,” she amended.

“Okay,” I said.
Nurse Janet instructed me to go to the hospital gift shop, which is where they
kept and stocked the cart. They’d tell me what to put on the cart, and I was given
a list of the floors to visit. The Cheer Cart didn’t make stops on the floor
with mothers and newborns or the floor with patients just out of surgery.

Nurse Janet was
right. Almost every patient that wasn’t asleep was thrilled to see the Cheer
Cart. I think a lot of them just wanted interaction with someone other than a
nurse or doctor. I went leisurely from room to room, talking to the people who
felt like it. A lot of the older patients seemed lonely. They would chat about
the weather, their grandkids, sometimes complaining about their children who
never visited and were only waiting to see what they’d get in the will.

Not all of them
were bitter, though. An elderly lady who told me to call her Cynthia –
“Mrs. Green just reminds me that I’m really old,” she’d said – talked
about her younger days dancing with a ballet troupe.

“I never had any
kids,” Cynthia told me.

I found myself
asking her if she regretted that decision.

“No,” she replied.
“After I became too old to dance with the troupe, I started instructing ballet.
It took up all of my time and I loved every minute of it. I wouldn’t have been
able to give a child the attention they needed. And besides, what good would it
do me now? I don’t want anyone to take care of me in my old age. If I get out
of here alive, I’ll go back home and fend for myself. And if I don’t? Well,
those are just the breaks.” Cynthia laughed and so did I. I liked her
immediately.

 Even though
my feet ached from walking around with the cart, I hoped they would let me do
this again. It made the time pass quickly, and I felt good about giving the
sick people a chance to talk about something other than their illnesses.

 When I got
to floor six, the cancer floor, I thought about Dr. Reynolds. I was
half-relieved, half-disappointed that he wasn’t here on Mondays. The majority
of the cancer patients didn’t want anything from the Cheer Cart. Most of them
were in really bad shape. I had just finished going to all of the rooms along
one of the halls and was turning the corner when I almost crashed into someone
with the cart.

“Sorry!” we said
in unison.

I looked up.
“Michael! I thought you weren’t here on Mondays?” I remembered the last time I’d
seen him, braless and drunk.
How mortifying.

He leaned forward
conspiratorially. “Remember, it’s Dr. Reynolds when we’re at the hospital.
Outside of this place, you can call me whatever you want.” Michael winked.

I gulped
nervously. My heart was racing again. “I couldn’t find out anything about
Becky,” I said, “so I didn’t call.”

“You could have
called me anyway. I wouldn’t have minded.” He paused for me to say something,
but I couldn’t think of anything witty, and I had promised myself I would act
standoffish.

“Rose called me,”
he continued. “Becky finally got in touch with her. So it was a false alarm. I
would have let you know, but I didn’t have a way to contact you.”

I forced myself to
look him in the eyes, not let him see the effect that he had on me. “I’m glad
she’s okay,” I said.

Michael nodded. “Me,
too.”

“I thought you
didn’t come here on Mondays?” I asked him again. If I was going to run into him
randomly on any given day that I was volunteering, I’d like to at least be
mentally prepared.

“Not happy to see
me?” He grinned and I couldn’t help but smile back. “I came by to check on one
of my patients. When things get...critical, I try to stop by every day. Most of
the families appreciate it, and I like to personally introduce them to the
hospice coordinator, let them weigh all of the options.”

I shook my head.
“I don’t know how you do it.”

“It’s not easy,”
he admitted.

We stood there in
silence. “I need to finish my rounds with the Cheer Cart,” I finally said.

“Nice to see you
again, Lana.” Michael flashed that adorable smile again and continued on his
way.

###

By the time I was
leaving it was just getting dark out. I had stayed an hour longer than my
scheduled shift. I’d been ready to go earlier, but felt guilty about cutting off
the patients who wanted to chat. It was the least I could do, really.

The hospital
offered a complimentary service where the security guard would walk you to your
car. I wasn’t going to use it, but there were two guards in the lobby and when
they saw me about to leave, one of them said he’d walk me out.

“I’ll be fine,” I
tried to say.

He looked at me
disapprovingly.

“I’ll walk her
out.”

I turned around.
It was Michael.

“Thanks, Dr.
Reynolds,” the guard said. He looked at me. “A young girl doesn’t need to take
any chances,” he lectured.

“Where are you
parked?” Michael asked me when we got outside of the building.

“Deck B,” I
answered.

“And you were
going to walk out alone? That’s on the other side of the lot,” Michael said.

“It was crowded
when I got here. Anyway, I’d have been fine. I have a cell phone.”

“Let me drive you
to your car,” Michael said. “I have a reserved spot close by.”

“Okay,” I replied.
Warning bells were going off in my head, but I ignored them.

Michael stopped at
a parking space with the words “Dr. M. Reynolds” painted on the concrete in
front of his car.

He drove a steel
gray BMW. I glanced at the model year on the back. 2013. Almost new.

Michael opened the
door for me so I could get in. “Thanks,” I said, sliding into the black leather
seat.

“So what are you
studying in school?” he asked me.

“Economics. But
after that I’m going to med school to become a pediatrician. It’s why I’m
volunteering at the hospital,” I explained.

I stared out the
window as Michael drove to my car.

“I’m parked on the
third level,” I told him. “But nothing fancy like your BMW.” I laughed. “Mine
is the beat up Mini.”

“Nothing wrong
with that. You should have seen my last car,” he said. Michael pulled into the
empty parking space next to the Mini.

“Thanks for the
lift.” I turned to get out.

“Wait.”

My hand still on
the door handle, I asked, “Yes?”

“Let me take you
out to dinner on Saturday.”

I was caught off
guard. I had expected the flirting to continue, but somehow I didn’t think he’d
ask me out that fast.

“Er, I’m
flattered,” I started.

“But?” Michael
grinned wryly. “Do I seem ancient at twenty-nine?”

I laughed. “No,
it’s not that at all.”

“Then what?”

I couldn’t tell
him the truth. And I’d already said I didn’t have a boyfriend.

“Seriously, Lana,”
Michael continued, “if you tell me right here, right now that you feel
nothing
whatsoever for me, I’ll leave you alone. I’m not one of those guys who
can’t take no for an answer. But I promise you, I don’t bite,” he said
suggestively.

I looked away. I
wanted to say yes. I really did. And this was my only chance. If I said no, it
would be over. Was there really any harm in one date?

“I’m not trying to
pressure you, but I’m curious what the hesitation is? Surely you feel the
chemistry between us?”

Of course I did. I
found myself nodding. Michael’s face broke out into a grin. “I’m just not
dating material,” I said.

His smile was
replaced by a shocked expression. “Lana, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve
ever seen. How can you say you’re not dating material? I couldn’t believe that you
didn’t have a boyfriend. I thought there’d be guys lining up to go out with
you.”

“Ha! Not quite.” I
didn’t want Michael to think I was a complete freak, so I amended my original
statement. “I’ve just been taking a break from dating for awhile. But I guess
there’s no time like the present to get back in the game.”

“Dinner Saturday
then?”

I nodded slowly.
“Okay.”

“Call me sometime
this week so that I have your number. I already know where you live. I’ll pick
you up at eight. Anything else I need to know? Vegan? Vegetarian?” Michael
asked playfully.

“Carnivore,” I
corrected him, smiling.

“Great. Me, too. I
hope to see you this week at the hospital.” He paused. “I shouldn’t tell you
this, but I looked up your schedule. It’s part of the reason I came to the
hospital today.”

BOOK: Dark Moon
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