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“My father’s in there.” Zoe exclaims, panic lacing her voice. Before I could stop her, she gets off the sled and takes off for one of the emergency exit doors. Son of a bitch!
Shock and panic sets in, and I can’t seem to do anything for a moment but stand there like an idiot.
I frantically look around and notice Kick is talking to detective Reyes, the only one at the Culville PD we have in our pocket. I stride over determinedly.
“My woman has just gotten herself in a world of hurt, I need to get into the hospital to go after her. Her father’s in there.” I growl at the police chief. Pushing my hands into the pockets of my jeans so that I don’t strangle the motherfucker. Kick gives me a warning to take it down a notch, and I take a deep, calming breath.
“Who’s her father?” He demands, looking at me, then quickly at Kick. “As I was just telling Kick, we have a hostage situation.”
“A hostage situation? Who’s the hostage?” My gut churns, and I knew even before he spoke the words who it would be.
“A Max Cullen in room 403. Some woman calling herself Emma came in brandishing a weapon, straight into his room,” the police detective explained.
“How the fuck did she get inside the hospital with a fucking gun?” I demand, wanting to throttle the idiot. “Emma? Wait, why do I know that name?” Then it hits me; she’s Zoe’s friend from high school. Running a hand through my beard, I pace. And now Zoe’s in that fucking mess. Could this be what Caleb was eluding to earlier? But why would her friend want to hurt her?
“Is there another way inside?” I demand. “My woman’s in there.” Kick looks at me with wide eyes.
“Shit!” he exclaims.
Detective Reyes is reluctant to tell me, but seeing the determination on my face, he points toward the same entry point Zoe went through. Without waiting for anyone else, I was inside within seconds, Kick, Tiny and the others on my heels. It was a good thing we all had weapons on us, and we brought them out at the ready.
Kick took the lead, and we followed behind. Taking the concrete steps two at a time, and as quietly as our boots would allow, we climbed to the floor where Zoe’s father’s room was located.
As I step into the corridor, my eyes scanning left and right, I’m on high alert for any potential danger. But luckily nothing happened. Hearing raised voices, we all turned as one towards the sound, coming upon a scene that made my blood boil.
A woman was pacing nervously, talking to herself. Max was in the hospital bed, trying to talk the crazy woman down, and looking desperately at the still figure lying on the ground, with a large gash to her head.
Before the bitch even had a chance to react, instead of shooting her like I wanted to, I lift my Ruger and bring it down over her head, watching her drop to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Pushing her out of the way, I sit down on the floor beside my woman and bring her gently into my arms.
“Baby?” I scan her for any further injuries besides the one on her head, while calling out to her.
Zoe softly moans, her eyes flutter open, and the overwhelming relief I feel was almost too much.
“I’m sorry for running off and not telling you. I was worried for my dad.” She groans, hissing in pain when she felt the bump on her head from being pistol whipped. “Emma was in on everything, she even shot me” she whimpers, her face scrunching up in pain.
“Stay still, baby. I know it hurts, but we’re gonna get someone to look you over, okay?” I tell her, trying to comfort her even though my hands itched to wrap themselves around the bitch Emma’s throat and squeeze the life out of her.
“I’m fine. My head just hurts, that’s all.”
The next few minutes were a whirlwind of activity; the police storm in, and seeing the woman lying on the floor and all the blood, they look at me sceptically.
“She’ll live, more’s the pity. I just incapacitated her. But my woman needs medical attention.”
Half an hour later, the police had taken Emma away to jail—we were driving home in a cage, since I decided Zoe shouldn’t ride on the back of my sled, even though the doctor who looked her over determined she didn’t have a concussion. Despite her assurance that she was okay riding on my sled, I won't risk her well-being again.
My mind was still reeling from what we’d learned from Zoe’s father, who had been in a secret relationship with Emma, a good friend of Zoe’s, but who decided she wanted Zoe out of the way. The crazy bitch teaming up with Caleb to get rid of her, planning to send her to some sex traffickers overseas before my brave woman took matters into her own hands, forcing the car Caleb was driving off the road.
It was safe to assume that her father, lying to her and seeing her friend behind her back, royally pissed my girl off. She barely even looked at her father while at the hospital getting seen to by the doctor.
Arriving home, I picked Zoe up in my arms, ignoring the eye roll she gave me, and strode to our room before placing her gently on the bed. She refused to postpone the cookout for tonight, since the brothers and their wives from the Washington chapter will arrive for a visit. Something Sage was looking forward to since becoming close with Dash’s ol’ lady Aurora.
I agreed not to postpone if she took the rest of the afternoon off and rested in bed. She agreed, and there we had our happy medium.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Zoe
My eyes shoot open, and I sit bolt upright, flinching when I feel a sharp pain in my head. Lifting my hand, I gently touch the side of my head and feel the gauze the doctor had placed there. Reminding me like a slap on the face about what happened today.
