Please Don't Die, Alpha! I Can Heal You Every Night novel · Chapter 3 of 24

Chapter 3: Smile and Hold

At Crowe's steakhouse a thug crushes her hand and she turns his wrist in public, then Jude coughs blood in the car.

The dress was black, plain and cut to my knees, and it cost more than my car.

"I'm not wearing a price tag in public," I told Ollie.

"I cut the tag, Doc."

"I can tell what it cost by how it fits."

"That's what I said to Mr. Kane. He said you'd say that."

I turned from the mirror.

Jude stood in the hall in a black suit, no tie, his white-blond head almost touching the ceiling beam.

He looked at the dress.

Then he looked at my face a moment too long.

"It's fine," he said.

"Fine?"

"It's fine."

"Wow," I said. "Poetry."

Ollie coughed into his fist and went to get the car.

Crowe's Steakhouse sat on the West Side behind a neon sign shaped like a cow.

Every table was full, and every head turned when we came in.

Jude put his hand on the small of my back, light and careful.

I felt it through the dress.

"Smile," he said, very low.

"At who?"

"Everyone. Hold my arm."

"Which one?"

"The right."

I took the right.

I could feel him checking his breath on each step, and I hated how well I knew the sound.

Merritt Crowe came across the dining room with both hands out.

He was heavy and tidy, with silver hair combed back and a gold watch that caught the lights.

"Jude," he said, warm as soup. "You came."

"You asked."

"And this is the nurse."

My arm went cold under Jude's.

I hadn't told anyone but Bree that I was a nurse.

"Sabine Hallett," Crowe said, and took my hand in both of his.

"Mercy General, nights. Your father is Glenn, a good man, I hear."

"A heart, poor thing. Hospitals are so expensive."

His thumb stroked the back of my wrist.

It was gentle and slow, and it made my skin crawl.

"You've done your homework," I said.

"I like to know my neighbors."

He let go at last.

Then he touched my elbow, my shoulder, and my arm again.

We sat at the best table.

Crowe ordered for everyone, and talked about the weather, the Browns and the price of beef.

Jude hardly spoke.

Under the table his left hand clenched on his knee, and I saw his knuckles go white.

Under the table I put my hand over his fist and pressed.

I wanted him to know that I knew.

Halfway through the steaks, a huge man in a beige suit stopped at our table.

He had a face like a dropped pie.

"Mr. Crowe says to welcome the lady properly," he said.

He held out his hand.

I took it, because everybody was watching.

He squeezed.

It was fast and hard, and I felt the small bones grind together.

His smile didn't change.

"Let go," I said quietly.

"Just being friendly, sweetheart."

"I mean it."

Across the table Jude had gone completely still.

I saw his other hand lift an inch from the cloth.

I shook my head at him, once.

I had spent four years in an ER on Friday nights.

I knew what to do with a man who wouldn't let go.

Our security guys taught us a move for violent patients.

I turned my wrist against his thumb, stepped in, and bent the joint back the wrong way.

The man in the beige suit went down on one knee with a yelp that stopped every fork in the room.

I held him there.

"Now," I said, loud and pleasant, "you let go of me."

He did.

I dropped his hand, wiped mine on my napkin and sat back down.

The restaurant was dead quiet.

Then Crowe laughed.

It was a long, delighted laugh, and he clapped his soft hands.

"Bravo!" he said. "Jude, where did you find her?"

"At work," Jude said.

His voice was perfectly calm.

But his eyes went to the man on the floor, and then to me.

For a second there was something in them that wasn't calm at all.

It looked a lot like pride.

"Get up," Crowe said to the man. "You've embarrassed us."

The big man limped away.

Crowe lifted his glass of water, because Jude didn't drink and Crowe always matched his guest.

"To the nurse," he said. "May she keep you well, Jude. You'll need it."

I felt Jude's arm go hard as a rail beneath my fingers.

We left before dessert.

Ollie pulled the car to the curb, and Jude got in the back with me, and shut the partition.

The city slid by in wet streaks.

For the first ten blocks he sat very straight, looking out the window.

Then he coughed.

It was a deep cough, from low in his chest.

He pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket and put it to his mouth.

When he took it away, it was red.

I stared at it.

He folded it twice and put it away.

"Don't tell Ollie," he said.

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