I Was Fired and Walking Home—Then Two Helicopters Landed Looking for Me

house arrest. And I handle all meds for this patient.”

The man froze. Rachel’s instincts flared. She looked at his shoes—not nursing clogs but expensive leather boots. And on his wrist, barely visible, was a black scorpion tattoo.

“Step away from the cart,” Rachel said sharply.

The man looked up. His eyes were cold and dead. He reached into his scrub continue reading …