Renegade Hearts (Rebels of Sandland 1)

Constance busied herself prepping things for the stitches and cleaning the wound. Brandon hissed a few times, but he wasn’t about to show any weakness. Then she held a syringe up, tapping it, ready to numb the area for him, and Brandon’s face went ghostly white.

“What the fuck is that for?”

“Anaesthetic,” she said without looking at him. “Unless you want me to stitch that with nothing but a piece of wood for you to bite down on.”

“I think I’d prefer the wood.” We all looked at Brandon as he sat up as straight as a rod, glaring at the syringe like it was an AK-47.

“Great. You’re scared of needles.” Constance tutted again and forced her way forward regardless, aiming the needle at Brandon’s forehead, ready to inject around the cut. Brandon snorted and then slumped in the chair.

He’d passed out.

Big bad Brandon Mathers, bare-knuckle boxer and all-round psycho was scared of needles and had passed out in nurse Constance’s chair.

“Oh my God. He’s out cold.” I gasped, holding my hand over my mouth in shock.

“He does this all the time. He can’t do needles.” Ryan shrugged.

“And to think I called him Rocky.” Constance laughed. “More like Mr T.”

“That was planes, not needles.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

“Oh, yeah.” Constance chuckled and then shrugged her shoulders. “Better get this injected before he wakes up then.”

A few seconds later, Brandon came round, but he was groggy and didn’t put up a fight. Constance worked her magic, cleaning him up and finishing the stitches neatly. To watch her work was mesmerising. All the while she hummed along to a Lionel Richie song playing on the radio in the corner.

“Make yourself useful, boy,” she said to Ryan, who was leaning against the wall, biting his nails. “Go and ask the front desk to send a porter down here so they can wheel him out.”

“I don’t need a bloody chair. I can walk just fine.” Brandon went to stand up and almost passed out again. Constance pushed him down into the seat by his shoulders and huffed.

“You’re not ready to walk yet,” she said. “Give it a few more minutes. People are always unsteady on their feet after an episode like yours.”

“I didn’t have a fucking episode,” he growled back. “It was hot in here, that’s all.”

“Whatever you say, love,” Constance said, giving Ryan the nod to do as he was told.

Ryan pushed off the wall and threw me a look, then left. I watched Constance clear away the instruments and then wrap Brandon’s head up carefully with her bandages. When she was finished she came over to stand by me, with her back to Brandon.

“He’s a handsome boy. They both are.” She gave me a knowing smile. “They both love you, don’t they?”

I stuttered. “They aren’t my boyfriends. They don’t… We don’t…”

She laughed and then sighed, giving me a stern, motherly look. “Either they’ll break your heart, or you’ll break both of theirs. If you want my opinion… Choose one and stick to it. You can’t keep them both dangling. That shit never works out. Trust me. I’d know. You’ll lose them both.”

I frowned. “I’m not with Brandon. I don’t feel like that about him,” I whispered, so he wouldn’t overhear.

She nodded. “And the other one?”

“It’s… Complicated.”

“Uh huh. Complicated and exciting? I was young too once. Be careful. You’re heading for a whole heap of heartache if you keep this up. I saw the doe-eyes they were both giving you. For your own sake, pick one and make sure the other knows.”

At that moment, Ryan came back into the room, followed by a porter pushing a wheelchair.

“Cubicles are all rammed tonight, Con. Think we’ll have to park him in a corridor or the waiting room until he’s good to go,” the porter said.

Constance patted a grim-faced Brandon on the shoulder and smiled. “He’s a tough-nut. He won’t need a bed. You could park him in the ca

r park and he’d be all right.”