Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Until the serial killer decided to circle back around to me all over again.
Stop blaming video games. Some of you played Mortal Kombat your whole lives and never learned how to finish her.
—Quaid, Carter family group text
QUAID
3 weeks later
“Hey,” I said distractedly. “I can’t talk right now. I’m in the middle of a traffic stop.”
There was a lengthy pause and then a frustrated, “Call me back as soon as you’re done.”
The way Ellodie’s voice shook had my stomach in knots the rest of the way through the stop.
By the time I called her back, she didn’t answer, which only made me even more worried.
After debating with myself for all of five minutes, I decided to take an early lunch, skipping lunch with my brothers and dad, to head to the hospital to see Ellodie.
And thank God I did.
I arrived in the middle of chaos.
There were people everywhere, and not the good kind of people.
The gang kind of people.
Why wasn’t this called in?
“What’s going on?” I growled to the first nurse I saw.
The nurse looked flustered as she said, “It’s a full moon.”
As if that explained everything.
Truthfully, it kind of did.
“What’s going on with the gang members?” I asked.
“Two separate things that collided,” she explained. “One came in with what we suspect is appendicitis. The other came in for a finger being smashed in a car door.”
I looked between the two groups, feeling like shit could hit the fan at any second.
Reaching for my mic, I spoke into it. “This is unit 1093. I’m going to need some blue uniforms at Dallas Memorial. Also, make sure that you let Quinn Carter know his presence is required.”
I’d text him individually, but I wasn’t liking the way this was building.
Heading farther into the depth of the ER, I found myself looking around and wondering where to go first.
The question was answered when there were raised voices behind a closed off curtain.
Then, a very familiar female voice saying, “Keep your hands off of me!”
“I think you stole my money, bitch. The last time I was in here!” an angry male voice said.
“I didn’t take anything,” she snarled. “Let. Me. Go!”
I ripped back the curtain to see a large guy backing Ellodie farther and farther into the corner of the room, his hand so tight around her wrist she was losing color in her hand.
Without even thinking, I reached forward and whirled the teen around, had him on the ground, his hands cuffed behind his back in seconds.
He was kicking and cursing, pissed as hell.
“Get off me, pig!” he snarled.
“You’re under arrest for the assault of a medical professional,” I said with barely controlled anger. “You have the right to remain silent…”
Ellodie watched on with wide eyes.
A couple more uniformed officers showed, and I handed the kid off—and he was just a kid. All of eighteen at most—to the first officer to come my way and said, “Take him in, Assman.”
“Will do,” Assman promised. “More are on their way.”
Luckily, with the uptick of police presence, the gang bangers disbursed, leaving their buddies behind.
I waited until it was completely cleared out and calm again before I turned to my woman who’d gone back to work in the interim.
She was sitting at the nurses’ station, writing something on a piece of paper.
There was a doctor at her side, speaking to her in low words.
“Baby,” I said when I walked up to her. “Do you get lunch?”
The doctor and her both looked up. “Actually, that was what we were just doing. Writing a lunch order. Would you like anything?”
“I don’t have all that much time left on mine. Do you want to grab something from the cafeteria?” I asked, hopeful.
She smiled, marked something out on the paper, and then handed it back to the doctor.
He was around five-foot-ten and a hundred and ninety pounds. His hair was blond, and so perfectly styled that I wondered if it ever fell out of place.
I’d also seen him before.
At the gas station a couple of weeks ago.
Ellodie must’ve seen me looking because she said, “Quaid, this is Dr. Brewn. He’s the favored ER doc. Dr. Brewn, this is my…”
When she hesitated, I filled in the blank for her. “Man. I’m her man. Quaid Carter.”
“Nice to meet you,” he didn’t offer his hand. “Have a good lunch.”
Then he was gone, going to the next nurse and handing her the paper Ellodie had been putting her order on.
Ellodie caught my arm and wrapped herself around it, leaning into me slightly. “I’m glad you came.”
I looked down at her as she led the way to the cafeteria two floors up.
“How often does that happen?” I said through gritted teeth.
And why the fuck did knowing she faced danger while working scare the holy hell out of me?
No wonder they wanted armed security guards.
If I hadn’t been here, hadn’t walked into the room when I had, what would’ve happened to her? To the other two nurses who were just as small as she was?