Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68481 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Nathan was in much the same state that I was in, but Sammy, having come from the gym, was down to just boxers. Sweaty boxers that looked a little too soaked in sweat to be comfortable to wear for the next however many hours.
“Heard that some guy threatened a nurse after they took their mom away to an ICU floor after she started having a heart attack. The guy obviously wasn’t listening to a word the nurse said because after she left, he finally paid enough attention to know that she wasn’t coming back. He gets pissed and talks to some nurses who say that he can’t go visit her on that floor because it’s the ICU. So he storms off. Only, he’s dumb enough to say he’s going home and getting his AR-15 and bringing it back up there to shoot the doctors and nurses that allowed his mother to get sicker. And he didn’t just say this to someone, he actually posted this shit on social media,” Sammy said. “Fucking moron. Anyway, he’s on the ICU floor wanting to get in but the hospital is on lockdown. They have him trapped in between the elevators at the ICU floor and the ICU entrance.”
I groaned as I finished getting dressed.
“This is just perfect,” I said. “I haven’t eaten shit all day, and now we gotta deal with this.”
‘This shit’ really was shit.
When we arrived, the man had literally lost his shit.
And when I say literally, I meant he was walking around with shit on his ass.
Apparently in the time that he’d been trapped in there, he hadn’t been very happy.
To kill two birds with one stone, he’d decided to take a shit, and then throw that shit at the camera in the ceiling.
We watched the replay of the entire event.
“What are you going to do?” the security guard, an ex-cop in his mid-fifties, asked.
“We’re gonna hope he doesn’t touch us when we take him down,” Saint muttered under his breath.
A-fucking-men.
That was the last motherfuckin’ thing that I wanted to deal with.
“Elevators have been closed down?” I asked.
“They have,” the cop confirmed. “We have the elevators stopped on the fourth floor. Nobody up or down. The entire hospital is on lockdown.”
I nodded. “We can access the area via the elevator shaft. We wouldn’t need much of a gap, either. Just enough of a gap that we can bang him.”
And by ‘bang’ I meant a stun grenade that was a non-lethal form of taking the guy down.
“We can have a few people waiting outside the doors. Once you get that done, we can restrain him.” Bourne paused. “Anybody got any of those ugly yellow gowns? I’m not touching that motherfucker.”
There were a chorus of chuckles as everyone agreed with him.
“Agreed,” Booth muttered. “I will deal with a lot of stuff from someone, but their shit isn’t one of them.”
“Says the man that’s having another baby,” Nathan murmured. “Better get used to dealing with other people’s shit.”
Bourne flipped Nathan off and he chuckled.
“I’ll go down with Adam from the sixth floor. We’ll rappel down, I’ll pry open the door enough to get the bang in, and Adam will toss it. Then I’ll try not to shut his hand in the door when I close it,” Sammy offered.
“Thanks,” I drawled.
He grinned and winked. “Anything for you, Adam Madam.”
I rolled my eyes at the familiar nickname.
The men of the SWAT team had started calling me that a couple of months ago when a little old lady had said those exact words to me after I’d helped her cross the road downtown.
Unfortunately, it’d stuck.
“Let’s get this done.”
Chapter 16
You win some, you lose some.
-days when you drop food onto your boobs
Amelia
“Everything is okay?” I asked for the fifth time as I got myself ready to go.
I was wearing black Rockstar jeans that were skintight, a black wifebeater, a hot pink bra, and combat boots—ones that my sister had luckily been able to salvage from my Chevelle once it was towed to Free. Free being my brother’s business. His secret business that helped battered and abused women and children find different lives and hide from their old ones.
To finish off the ensemble, I straightened my hair and then slipped a backward-facing ballcap onto my head to hold my hair out of the way.
“It’s good,” Adam said. “Just a little rope burn on my arm. The guy’s in custody, and he’s gonna be spending some much-needed time in the psych ward. Hopefully for forever.”
I snorted. “Hopefully.”
On that word, I walked to King and gave her kisses.
“Are you kissing my dog again?” Adam asked, sounding amused.
“I don’t know what made you think that,” I lied.
“I can hear her panting. Unless that’s you,” he teased.
I looked down at King, who was indeed panting, and shrugged.
“Maybe,” I said as I gathered my car keys and headed for the door, thankful that my car hadn’t been damaged by the fire. “Did you ever get lunch?”