Hard Case by Elizabeth Lapthorne Read Free Book Online

been known to happily stand around a pub on a Saturday evening, drinking, eating crisps and watching the latest footy match or following some rugby. My sexuality is one aspect of me, it doesn’t define every part of my life or make me less of a man.”
    “Most of the pretentious arseholes either work for companies I consult with, or they’re trying to curry favor from the more political side to my work,” Troy agreed. “Thankfully, I almost never come into contact with them. In general, like you, I find other than making for the occasional poor night out it makes no difference to my life.”
    They fell into silence as the light changed. Troy shifted the car into gear and they moved on.
    “I wouldn’t mind joining you one night at the pub, though,” Troy added, his tone was tentative, as if he expected to be turned down. “I’m more of a whiskey drinker myself, but I presume that won’t matter.”
    “Not a bit,” Steven smiled at the thought. “Have you done much boxing in your time?”
    “I don’t really have the build for it,” Troy glanced wryly down at his lean form. “I was a sprinter and math geek at school. I prefer to think myself out of problems. I’ve done the standard shooting training and I’m not a bad shot if there’s a gun lying around handy, but I almost never carry and don’t have a permit. What about you? It sounded like working at the hospital isn’t too bad.”
    “I’d never really thought about it until now, but working in the hospital can be damn isolated really. We’re all so busy rushing around from one disaster to the next, we hardly have time for our sanctioned breaks, let alone being overly social with one another. Half the people at the hospital I only know by sight and to nod at.”
    “Really? I’d have thought you’d make friends on your regular shifts.” Troy sounded surprised.
    “Oh, a small number, yes, of course,” Steve agreed. “But that’s maybe a dozen people when the hospital would employ a thousand or more. Between swing shifts, the crazy hours and inter-departmental swaps, you’d be amazed how people move about. A couple of times I’ve gone months without seeing someone, assume they’ve left and then they’ll come back onto rotation.”
    Steve shook his head at the memory. He’d been right pissed off at Dave, figuring that the man had buggered off without saying goodbye. Steve had waited for an email, explaining which greener pastures Dave had found himself work in, only to turn around one morning three months later and there Dave was, back on shift, acting as if nothing had happened.
    “I felt a right fool,” Steve continued then chuckled wryly. “There I was, planning a bitchy little email asking my friend what he thought, sodding off without so much as a goodbye, then it turns out he’s been on the cancer ward—or maybe it was the maternity wing or some such—and I just hadn’t known. People can be in and out in a few weeks too. One woman I recall didn’t last until her tea-break. We had an enormous pile up on the motorway. A school bus collided with one of those long petrol tankers. Place was full of dead, dying and screaming kids. Two hours of that and she went for her cuppa break and was never seen again. Left her resignation written on one of the paper napkins on the staff room bench.”
    “Wow.” Troy widened his eyes. “Must be madness sometimes.”
    Steve caught Troy’s glance. Something sad but meaningful was in Troy’s pale silvery gaze.
    “Actually, we both must see some of the very best and very worst of human nature,” Steven finally said after a pause. “There’s often very little in the middle. We only really come into contact with both ends of the spectrum.”
    “Ah, but there’s a difference,” Troy added wryly. “You heal them. You stitch them up, patch their wounds and make them better.”
    “And you keep us all safe,” Steve pointed out forcefully, not willing to be cast as some saint with Troy implying