Ava’s POV
Monday was supposed to be normal.
Work.
Patients.
Charts.
Lunch.
Home.
Nothing complicated.
Nothing involving syndicates, pissed-off fathers, sheds, or men learning the hard way that no meant no.
Normal.
I was halfway through updating a patient's chart when my phone buzzed in the pocket of my scrub pants.
Ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Still ignored it.
Then again.
I stopped typing.
What the hell?
I pulled my phone out.
Fourteen unread messages.
I stared at the screen.
All from the group chat Cloe had apparently created sometime this morning.
Tuesday Ass Kicking.
I closed my eyes.
Of course that's what she named it.
I opened the messages.
Cloe: Six tomorrow right?
Josie: That's what I thought.
Brielle: What do we wear?
Timber: Do we need gloves?
True: I
