Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78631 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“I never hit on my patients. I’m not hitting on you.” He looks down at his clipboard. “I’m just stating a fact.”
I give him a weak smile. “If things were different, I think I would enjoy that.”
“But things aren’t different,” he says.
“No,” I say. “They’re not.”
Because I’ve already acknowledged—internally, at least—that I love Dragon Locke.
Can he ever love me back?
I don’t know. Having met his mother and knowing a little bit about his past, I’m guessing he probably thinks he can’t love.
But I believe that anyone can love.
Anyone at all.
Once we get to the hospital, Mark and Sarah take me into the ER. “Twenty-six-year-old female, laceration on her left hand, possible fracture or sprain of the right ankle.”
They get me into a bay, and a nurse enters. “Name?”
“Diana Steel.”
“Do you have insurance, Diana?”
“I do.”
“Good. I’ll get someone from admissions to come talk to you after we get you triaged.”
I simply nod as the nurse takes my vitals.
Then I tell her what happened.
“Are you in pain now?” she asks, examining my ankle.
“It feels a lot better,” I say.
“I’m not seeing any bad swelling, but we’ll probably do an X-ray and MRI to figure out what’s going on. The doctor should be in to see you shortly.”
“Thank you.”
She closes the curtain around me, and I lay my head down on the pillow of the hospital bed.
Staring down at me are posters—one of SpongeBob, and one of Bugs Bunny.
Obviously for when children are in this room.
Nice touch.
I sigh. Why did I go to see Mrs. Locke? Dragon is going to be mad as hell, and I can’t blame him. I didn’t even get that much information. Nothing I couldn’t have surmised on my own.
Chalk it up as a big mistake.
I guess I thought I could make her understand. Growing up on the ranch with loving parents and tons of aunts and uncles and cousins, I believe family is everything.
Family members take care of each other. So why isn’t Mrs. Locke like that? Shouldn’t everyone love their family? Put their family first?
Dragon didn’t grow up that way.
A lot of people don’t grow up that way, and I need to remember that. Mrs. Locke isn’t like my mother, who would take a bullet for any one of her four children.
When I think of Dragon at nine years old—that beautiful little boy with dark hair and hazel eyes who wanted his parents to believe him—I want to cry.
But I steel myself.
No tears.
I’m going to help Dragon find his sister. If she is indeed still alive.
I’ll spend my whole trust fund doing it if I have to.
Because I love Dragon.
And I will do anything for him.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Dragon
The Uber driver drops me off at the hospital, and I rush into the ER.
“Diana Steel?” I say to the receptionist on duty.
“Are you family?”
“I’m a…friend. She asked me to meet her here.”
The volunteer nods and types on her computer. “Looks like she’s about ready to be released. She should be out in a moment.”
“Is she all right?”
“She’ll be able to tell you everything, sir.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine.”
What is Diana going to do when I tell her I need ten grand to wire to Malcolm Osborne?
Damn.
All this time…
Griffin might have been right under our nose.
And now she’s with some cult.
I’ve got to rescue her. Her and her daughter.
Then I’ll make sure Malcolm Osborne spends the rest of his life behind bars.
A few moments later, a nurse brings Diana out in a wheelchair. On her left ankle is a boot.
I rush to her. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I got pretty lucky.” She winces slightly. “My pain is quite a bit relieved, and the X-ray and MRI only showed a little bit of inflammation. No actual fracture or sprain.”
“She should be able to walk,” the nurse says. “But I wouldn’t suggest doing any hiking or marathons. For the rest of the day, she should rest with the foot elevated. Tomorrow she can bear weight as necessary as long as it’s not too painful.”
I nod as I’m overwhelmed with a sense of duty and protectiveness.
I want to take care of Diana. Me. Dragon Locke, who has no more than a few bucks to his name. Whose own parents thought the worst of him when he was a mere child.
Who’s done some very bad things.
I’m living in Diana’s penthouse, driving her car, staying in a luxury hotel that she’s paying for.
But I want to take care of her.
God help me.
“Can you walk now?” I ask.
“Like I said, she should stay off her feet for the rest of the day,” the nurse answers for her. “She’s got a prescription dose of ibuprofen.”
“All right.”
I silently thank God that they didn’t give her any narcotics for pain. I’ve been sober since I fell off the wagon in London, but being around pills is never a good idea.
“I’m fine,” Diana says. “It hurt like hell when it happened, but it’s not bad now. After a day or two, I’ll be fine.”