Page 18 of Shattered by Grace (The Locke Empire Duet #1)

Chapter Fourteen

T he muffled vibration under the pillow dragged Victoria from the edges of sleep. She groaned, fumbling for her phone, squinting at the screen. Five AM. Her stomach dropped at the hospital’s number flashing across the display.

She cleared her throat, forcing her voice into something professional. “Nurse Scarlett.”

“Nurse Scarlett, I’m sorry, but we have an emergency,” Emily from L&D said, urgency sharp in her tone. “Severe fetal distress. Decelerations, minimal variability. Dr. Turner isn’t answering.”

Victoria shoved back the blanket, already on her feet. “How long?”

“Twenty minutes. The mother’s BP is crashing.”

Damn it. “Gestation?”

“Thirty-six weeks. Pre-eclamptic, but stable until now.”

“Prep for an emergency C-section. I’m on my way.” She yanked open her closet, grabbing scrubs. “Page anesthesia, get NICU ready, and start fluids. Call if anything changes.”

“Already on it.”

Victoria ended the call, exhaling sharply.

So much for a day off.

Victoria barely registered her own movements as she stumbled toward the kitchen, her body running on instinct.

Caffeine. Now. She grabbed the half-full pot of coffee from last night, poured a generous amount into a mug, and downed it in a few desperate gulps.

Cold. Bitter. Awful. She grimaced but didn’t care. It was fuel, and she needed it.

Slamming the empty mug into the sink, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

Brush teeth. Grab bag. Go.

In the living room, Clawdia perched on the couch, tail flicking, watching her with judgmental eyes. No time. Still, guilt pricked at her.

“I know, I know. Sorry, girl,” she muttered, giving the cat a quick scratch behind the ears before rushing for the door.

Her fingers were already on the lock when she noticed the folded note taped to the front. Seriously? Probably from her grumpy neighbor complaining about the punching bag again. Rolling her eyes, she ripped it off and stuffed it into her bag without a glance.

She yanked the door shut, locked it, and bolted down the stairs, the cold morning air jolting her as she hit the street. The hospital was minutes away, but her pulse was already racing.

No time. No time. No time.

As Victoria jogged down the empty street, a prickle of unease crawled up her spine. Subtle at first, a whisper of awareness, but it sharpened, pressing against her instincts like a blade.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind, firm and unwavering. Never draw attention to yourself when you feel a threat. Stay alert. Remember everything.

She kept her pace steady, her breathing controlled, but her senses flared awake. The city’s pre-dawn silence felt too thick, too expectant, as if the world itself was holding its breath. She didn’t turn her head, didn’t react, but she cataloged every detail.

A parked car, windows too dark. A figure leaning against a lamppost up ahead. The flicker of movement from an alley she passed. Each detail logged, her body primed to react.

Stay calm. Blend in.

She subtly adjusted her route, her heartbeat steady but her mind anything but.

Her father had drilled it into her from a young age. Spot a threat without letting them know you’ve seen them.

She focused on her breathing, feet hitting the pavement in steady rhythm, but every detail around her sharpened. The rustle of leaves. The hum of distant traffic. The weight of unseen eyes tracking her.

Resisting the urge to look back, she took stock of her options. A convenience store ahead, an alley to her left, a bus stop a block away. Her grip tightened on her bag, muscles coiled, ready.

Only when the hospital came into view did the tension ease just a fraction. More people. More cover. But not enough to shake the unease burrowed deep in her bones.

With a final, discreet glance over her shoulder, she stepped inside, cool, sterile air wrapping around her. Whatever shadow had been following her stayed outside, but the feeling lingered.

What the fuck was that?

Even as she headed to labor and delivery, the unease clung to her, like the first charge in the air before a storm.

Right now, she wasn’t just Victoria or Grace.

“I’m Nurse Scarlett, a badass midwife who doesn’t break under pressure, turns chaos into order, and delivers babies like a damn legend.”

She rolled her shoulders back, exhaling slowly. Get it together. A quick mental rundown of patient charts, possible complications, and the night ahead sharpened her focus.

“Alright,” she muttered, straightening her posture. “Let’s bring some babies into the world.”

Few hours intense hours had slipped by as Victoria assisted through a difficult emergency C-section.

Now finally catching her breath at the nurses’ station, she pulled off her surgical cap and let it drop beside her on the table.

Her fingers pressed into her temples, trying to massage away the tension left behind by the long, chaotic shift.

As she dug through her bag for her phone, her fingers brushed against a crumpled piece of paper. The note that had been taped to her door. With a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she carefully pulled it out and held it in her hands, her curiosity piqued.

The note was scrawled in elegant handwriting that she didn’t recognize.

What in the actual fuck is this? she thought, her eyes scanning the note over and over again, trying to make sense of it.

She was so engrossed in the words that she didn’t hear anyone approach.

“I see you found my note,” a deep voice whispered next to her ear, and her heart nearly stopped. She jumped in her seat, instinctively pressing one hand against her chest and clamping the other over her mouth to stifle a scream.

The note slipped from her fingers and fluttered to the floor as she whipped around to see who had startled her.

Victoria gasped as her eyes met Tristan’s.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his busted lip, his dark eyes glinting with amusement, but his battered face told a different story.

His left cheek was swollen, a jagged stitch cut across his left eyebrow, and his skin was bruised, the remnants of the fight he’d been in days ago. His presence was unsettlingly close.

Even battered and bruised you still make me liquefy.

“You’ve seen better days,” she said, her voice tinged with concern but sharp with something more, like she knew he’d pushed himself into this mess on purpose.

Tristan raised an eyebrow, the smirk still lingering. “Yeah, that’s what every guy wants to hear, Grace.”

“What are you doing here?” she sounded harsher than she intended, her pulse racing. She struggled to steady herself, still reeling from the scare.

God, he’s beautiful. Hang on, WHAT?! No, stop that.

He met her gaze, his silence stretching the moment uncomfortably. It felt like he was dissecting her thoughts without giving anything away.

Victoria leaned back, stunned into silence. Her brain scrambled to catch up. Finally, she managed to ask, “How are you, Tristan?” The way pain flickered across his face sent a jolt of dread through her, making her immediately fear the worst.

Before Tristan could respond, Justin appeared at his side, his expression all business as he said, “The car’s ready. We need to go.”

Oh, fuck. It really is Justin.

Tristan’s gaze softened for a split second. “I’m healing, Grace. Thanks for asking.” There was a raw edge to his voice, but before she could decipher it, he turned and walked away without another word, leaving her with more questions than answers.

Victoria stood frozen for a moment, the confusion gnawing at her. How the hell did he know where I live? How did he find me so easily? The unease settled deeper into her chest as she watched him leave, her mind racing to catch up with the mystery that seemed to surround him.

“That’s it?” Victoria forced out, her voice tight.

Only Justin turned around, but the look on his face froze the words in her throat. Recognition flickered in his eyes, turning them sharp and cold. For a heartbeat, they both stood there, the air thick with unspoken tension.

She knew that look, it wasn’t just shock. It was the realization of who she really was. His best friend from when they were neighbors, and now he was staring at her like she was a ghost from a past they both buried.

Victoria’s stomach twisted, fear clawing up her spine as she saw the shift in his expression, he wasn’t the same Justin she once knew.