Meeting the bikers- (1)
990 Words
KAIA
Just like that.
No threats. No theatrics.
Just me stylishly staring at a locked vault of a man who's staring me down with those icy blue eyes like he already knows I’ll fold.
And maybe I will.
Because I’m not stupid enough to walk away from stability.
So, I inhale deeply, summoning that courage from hell as I stop skimming through.
I straighten my posture and gently slip out a blue pen from my scrub pocket and flip the damn thing to the back before scribbling my signature in the waiting space.
Then, I cap it and turn my gaze to him. He stares at me. I stare back.
He says nothing as he breaks the silence first, his hand latching to a box of ink and a smooth plastic case on the table and he wordlessly passes them to me by sliding it across the smooth table.
I stare at them for a moment before leaning forward.
“Thumb or index?” I ask.
“Index.” He says.
Fingerprint signature.
I put a dab of ink on the plastic case and press my finger down with slow, steady pressure. Index. Not thumb. Don’t smear it.
Then I lift it, place the mark just below my signature, and slide the NDA back across the desk.
He takes it without a word.
Inspects it like he’s judging the weight of my soul on the page. His eyes flick to the fingerprint, the signature, then to me.
That stare again—cold and unreadable.
But something flickers in it. Just for a second.
And I just confirmed. He's mean.
I lift my chin anyway.
“I can start now, right?” I ask, trying to sound… competent. Normal. Not like I just signed something that may or may not involve witnessing an alien autopsy.
He doesn’t answer right away.
Just sets the NDA down, then leans back in his chair.
“Yes,” he says finally. “But first, Nurse Morgan will give you the handbook.”
I nod, halfway rising to my feet when he adds—
“Read it.”
I pause.
“I mean really read it,” he says, tone like iron. “Don’t skim it like the NDA.”
I swallow.
“Because what’s in there will determine how long you stay in this job...” He continues.
A beat.
Two.
Then—
“...Or how long you live in it.”
The air in the room shifts just slightly like someone cracked a window to Antarctica open.
But I say nothing.
I just nod again, slower this time. “Understood.”
“Good,” he says. Then closes the file and turns back to whatever the hell it is men like him do when they’re not terrifying new hires.
“You’re dismissed.”
Dismissed.
Like a damn soldier.
But whatever.
I stand. Move to the door. My fingers curl around the knob, but I glance back once before opening it.
He’s already looking away.
Already writing like I never existed.
I slip out, shutting the door behind me quietly—and try not to let the chill trailing down my spine follow me into the hallway.
I heave out a breath of relief because the hallway feels warmer and brighter.
Or maybe I’m just grateful not to be freezing under Dr. Caius Wolfe’s stare anymore.
God, I need something. Coffee. Diet Coke. A brick to scream into.
I make my way back to the reception, letting my brain run wild with fantasy drinks and emotional support sugar, when Morgan glances up from behind the counter and beams at me like we’re old friends.
“You’re in,” she says before I can even open my mouth. “Dr. Wolfe already informed me.”
Wow. Quick with the news, I see.
“Thanks,” I say, trying to match her brightness, even though I feel like I just walked through a storm cloud.
“You’ll start officially after break,” she continues. “Most of the nurses aren’t on morning shift, they’ll be in after the midday bell. I’ll introduce you to the team then.”
I nod, but something in me still hums with static.
Morgan notices and her tone softens. “You can take a quick walk across the street if you need something. There’s a coffee shop just opposite. Good pastries too.”
My gaze darts to the clock.
11:42 a.m.
“Thanks,” I say again, more honestly this time. And maybe to the clock or to her, I actually don't know.
She smiles. “Go. It’s almost break anyway.”
I don’t wait to be told twice.
I push through the front door like the place might suck me back in if I don’t move fast enough.
The sun smacks me right in the face. It’s too bright. Too real. Like it has no idea what kind of darkness I just crawled out of.
And that’s when I see them.
Two bikes.
Big. Growling. Gleaming under the sun.
The same bikes from this morning.
And the men getting off them?
Helmet in one hand. Leather jackets. Bad decisions screaming off their auras and stance.
The first one pulls off his helmet and—
Boom.
His eyes meet mine.
Shit.
Ma… ddox?
The same Maddox who dragged me into his cave of chaos last night.
The same Maddox who growled like a damn animal and said I was his mate like we were in some unholy dating app for the damned.
And next to him—of course, of course—is the second guy.
The one who said… What did he say again?
She smells like mine.
Fuck. f**k. f**k.
All my nerves scream at me to bolt. Run back inside. Hide in a supply closet. Crawl into the trash bin out back and hope no one notices.
But it’s too late.
He’s already grinning with his eyes holding mine.
- Writer
