Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22269 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“Fuck you,” Ivan mutters, closing his eyes.
“I can have Shadow take you two to the hospital, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to get more attention than you want.”
“Does the club have a doctor?” I question, still applying pressure on Ivan’s wound.
E-Z rubs the back of his neck, then sighs. “Well, sort of.”
“What does that mean?” I huff.
Ivan can’t keep losing blood like this. I’m going to have to take him to the emergency room. Shit. When I agreed to this harebrained operation, I should have thought to bring along a doctor with my soldiers. Ivan said it would be simple. I was stupid, forgetting rule number one. Nothing is ever simple in this family. We were to break into a safe house where a rival club was keeping two women who were members of the Navarro family. I asked for specifics from the head of the family—Daniel Navarro. I don’t trust him. I made this alliance with his father Juan, but he died of a heart attack just weeks later. Daniel stepped up at once. He didn’t have the issues I had. It seemed people were happier to deal with him rather than Juan. I found that a little confusing. I preferred Juan who did anything to placate me.
Daniel was extremely vague about all of this. He’d only asked for help, saying the girls were family. I’ve been thinking more and more of breaking our alliance—along with my marriage to Natalia. I wouldn’t mind getting that particular monkey off my back. I only agreed to stop the families that wanted to challenge us for power. Things have calmed down. I could handle anyone that might pop up at this point. I don’t need the Navarros. The only thing that makes me hesitant is that once news that the Navarro alliance has ended, idiots may try once more to cause issues.
I would like to end the marriage, however. Hell, the day of our video conference, there was a hurricane, causing video to be unavailable. So, the marriage was over a phone conference. I’ve yet to see her. I haven’t even requested a picture of the woman or performed a background check. Fuck, I didn’t even tell Ivan how I brokered the alliance. He’d lose his shit if he knew I married a woman without having her vetted. I’ll eventually tell him, but she’s just not worth the effort right now. She’s a means to an end—not really important in my life.
“We do, but presently he’s passed out back at the club. It’s his birthday. The club girls wanted to give him a special treat.”
“Fuck,” Ivan groans, pain evident in his voice—something he would normally never allow. It makes me that much more worried about him. He’s been more of a father to me than my real dad ever was.
“The two girls we rescued dressed in scrubs. Maybe they can help,” he suggests.
“Bring them here,” Ivan huffs. He doesn’t seem as if he’s dying. I hope that means something.
E-Z disappears and a few minutes later one of his men—I think his name is Brick, but I don’t care enough to see if I’m right—comes in with the women. They appear to be a mixture of frazzled and pissed off. One is on the shorter side. She’s probably around five-four, with curves in all the right places—an hourglass figure designed to make a man ache. The blue doctor scrubs she’s wearing cling to her body in all the right ways. Her breasts are phenomenal. They strain against her top, pulling it tight. She’s at least a D cup. She has long chocolate-brown hair that flows down her back in soft waves. Her eyes are a beautiful hazel. I could stare into them all day. Unfortunately, I don’t think I have that luxury. The other woman is taller, slimmer, yet still has a nice body. She is wearing scrubs, too, only these are black to match her long, straight hair that’s pulled back in a high ponytail. She has emerald green eyes. They’re filled with anger, making them shine brightly.
“I asked if they were doctors,” the man from E-Z’s club says. “The tall one said not yet. No idea what that means, but maybe she can help.”
“I can’t. He needs to go to the hospital,” the woman argues at once, squatting down beside me to look at Ivan. Her hand reaches out, as she presses a couple of fingers against his throat. She goes quiet. I’ve seen enough junk medical dramas on television to figure out she’s checking his pulse.
“Not an option. Can you fix him up?” I respond.
“Here?” she asks, looking at me like I’m insane.
“Yes.”
“Sure, if you want him to die.” I growl, but she doesn’t flinch. “I don’t have medical supplies here. Besides, I’m not permitted by law to do anything without a doctor overseeing me.”