Page 1 of Intense (Beneath The Blaze #3)

STEPHANIE

Two years ago…

Song- Infinite Baths, Sleep Token

N o matter how many lives I save, I’m constantly haunted by the parts of myself I lost to get here. Lost isn’t even the right word. They were ripped away from me.

I’ve always been proud of my achievements, like they validated my pain. I let them hurt me so I could be successful in my dream job.

And I was at peace with that. Until today, when the devil rested on my shoulder and whispered at me to kill a man on the operating table.

And for a split second, I thought about it. I wanted him dead, and I wanted to be the woman to kill him.

But I can’t. I’m well respected. I work with charities. I’m the second-best surgeon here, knocked off my top spot by the sudden appearance of an asshole by the name of Dr. Quinn.

As I go to take the syringe from my surgical gown to hide in my locker, the door creaks open. I freeze, the air shifting to ice cold.

And I know whose heavy footsteps they belong to.

“Good work today, Dr. Miller.” Finn’s deep Irish drawl makes the hairs on my arms stand on end.

“Thanks,” I whisper back in an attempt to hide my sadness.

I can never show that side of myself to Dr. Quinn.

Today’s operation hit me harder than anything before in my career. Coming face to face with a monster of my past.

“What’s the attitude about?” he asks, resting his back against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

The only reason this patient is still alive is because Dr. Quinn was assessing me the entire time.

“Nothing. Long day,” I tell him, grabbing my jacket from my locker.

I’m not a monster for having these murderous thoughts. Am I?

I shake my head and stop in front of Finn. His huge, tatted biceps tense. He doesn’t move from the door.

“Can you move?” I can’t hide my irritation.

His jaw twitches, and his pale grey eyes lock on mine. There’s something sinister behind them.

It’d be easier to despise his existence if he wasn’t such a fantastic surgeon. It would be even easier if he wasn’t so damn attractive. Like he’s just walked off the page of a romance book, smothered in tattoos and a delicious accent.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re so damn snappy with me all the time?” he asks, his eyebrow arching.

I huff. I’m fighting a moral dilemma right now. I wanted to kill a man. Not a man—an abuser.

“Because I don’t like you, Dr. Quinn,” I tell him matter-of-factly.

He snickers.

“But I respect your talent. And the fact you now basically own this hospital, and my career is in your hands.” I fake a smile.

He won’t fire me. Because this department is in shambles other than me and Dr. Quinn.

He shrugs, like he’s completely unaffected by my statement. He slowly pushes himself off the door and moves out of my way.

“Do you still think I bought my way in? Do you think you’re a better surgeon than me, Dr. Miller?” His tone is laced with a threat.

“I bet I got higher grades than you. I know I nearly killed myself to be here. That this is my passion. But no, I’m not better than you… yet. Although I might not be now, but one day I will be.”

He chews on his lip, pulling out a small black notebook from his pocket, and starts scribbling in it.

“Hmm,” he mutters, deep in thought.

I shake my head and go to open the door, he steps right behind me. I can smell him. Feel him all over me.

“I don’t like you much either, Stephanie.”

He leans in closer. I hold my breath as his heat settles against the shell of my ear.

“Perhaps find another place to hold your passions. Because today, you saved the life of a sex trafficker, Dr. Miller. Not everything we do is gratuitous nor right. If that were me, I’d have made sure he didn’t wake back up from that operating table.”

He backs away, and my chest almost closes in on me.

I shake my head and turn to him. A menacing grin is on his lips. My eyes are wide.

“W-what?”

He lets out a deep chuckle.

“I’m fucking with you. I’d never break our sacred code. But seriously. There is more to life than work. And a lot of these patients don’t deserve our sacrifices.”

He has no idea how right he is.

“Anyway, good work saving the life of a complete cunt today.” He winks at me and strolls past, straight out of the room and whistling as he goes down the hallway.

Every single interaction I’ve had with him over the last four years leaves me either furious or confused.

But his words hit me deep.

As I walk down the hallway, I stop outside Mark’s room. Taking a deep breath, I peer in through the glass. A single tear slips down my cheek, thinking about the eighteen-year-old Stephanie. And what I’d do now to protect her. What I could do to protect other girls like me.

As if on autopilot, I walk in.

I stand at the foot of his bed, the potassium syringe still hidden in the sleeve of my gown. I took it earlier during surgery. Why? I don’t know. It felt right.

He’s alive because of me.

I swallow hard, the memory of the pre-op consultation crowding out everything else.

He smiled at me. Sat there in the too-small gown with his chart in his lap and looked me dead in the eye like he knew exactly who I was. Like he knew he’d wrecked me and was curious to see how much was left.

The same smile he gave me when I was eighteen and too desperate to leave to notice he was never going to let me go.

My chest tightens until I can’t breathe.

I saved him. I fixed the heart that has always been black and hollow. I did my job because everyone expects me to be the surgeon who saves lives, no matter who they belong to.

But standing here now, I can’t bear the thought of him opening those eyes again. Of him walking out of this hospital with a stronger heart, free to hurt another girl the way he hurt me.

I step closer, my hands shaking so badly I nearly drop the syringe.

He doesn’t deserve the life I gave back to him.

He doesn’t deserve a second chance.

I slide my hand under the sheet and find the port. My fingers are slick with sweat. For a moment I just stand there, looking at his face. The sedation makes him look harmless. Almost peaceful.

But I remember everything, even if it was over thirteen years ago.

The back hallway. The smell of bourbon on his breath. The way he told me it was time I learned what men were willing to pay for.

A sob claws up my throat, but I swallow it.

Beep.

I press the plunger down slowly.

Beep.

His rhythm skips.

Beep.

And then the monitor screams.

Beeeeeeeep.

My heart is beating so fast I think I might faint, but I don’t look away. I want to see the moment he’s gone. I want to feel it.

I’m numb on the outside.

But inside, I’m alive. I’m free. Like a weight has been lifted.

He’s dead. He’s gone.

I’ll never get justice through the legal system. I just tried to forget. Who was going to believe a young stripper desperate for money over a rich predator? No one.

But none of that matters. My sacrifices paid off. I have the career I always dreamed of.

And now, I can serve justice myself.

Maybe, I’ve worked hard to get to this moment. My true calling.

Because it wasn’t just Mark who hurt me. There’s a trail of them littered around Pennsylvania.

And they all deserve to die.