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“Me?” I asked, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “You do it.”
He spun and glared at me. “Shut up for five fucking seconds and go do what I asked!”
Taken aback by his harsh tone, I turned to Brock for help, but he was already laying on the bed, his eyes closed. Seriously, did he not understand what I had just been through? Turning, I stomped out of the room to the front desk. My feet were killing me and I was severely dehydrated. What I needed was a hot bath and some painkillers, but sure…I’d march over to the front desk to get whatever the hell Fox needed.
I flung the door open and marched over to the counter.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“Yes, apparently, we need a bowl, some…alcohol, and a needle and thread.”
“Uh-huh. We don’t carry that,” she answered, flipping the page in her magazine.
“What do you mean you don’t carry that? You’re the concierge service.”
“Yep, and we provide whatever you need. As long as we have it in stock.”
“So, go get it for me!” I snapped.
“Don’t have it in stock. There’s a five-and-dime store down the road.”
“A what?” I asked.
She slowly looked up at me, blowing a large bubble with her gum. “It’s your version of a dollar store.”
This woman was really pissing me off. “And what is a dollar store?”
Her eyes trailed up and down my body and then she started chuckling at me. I knew that look all too well. It was the same perusal I gave others when I thought they were ridiculous. I was anything but ridiculous.
“I’m sure your friends will know.”
Clearly, this woman wasn’t going to be any further help. I turned on my very sore heels and stomped out of the lobby and back to the room. After shoving open the door, I flopped down in a chair.
“They don’t have anything. But she said there was a five and something store down the road.”
“A what?” Fox asked.
I waved my hand, already irritated with the conversation and the way this day was going. “Something about a dollar? I don’t know.”
“Well, go find out!” Fox shouted.
“Listen,” I sat up, ready to tell him off. “My feet hurt. I’m in the middle of nowhere. You kidnapped me from my house. Do not take that attitude with me.”
“What the fuck was Brock thinking?” he muttered. Pushing to his feet, he stalked over to me. “I have to go get supplies. Stay here and make sure he doesn’t die.”
I scoffed at his commands. “I don’t answer to you. And what do you mean, make sure he doesn’t die?”
“He has a hole in his side. Blood is seeping out. What exactly do you think happens when you lose that much blood?”
My eyes flicked to Brock’s still form on the bed. “He’s?—”
“Passed out. Probably from exhaustion and blood loss. Do you think you can handle watching him?”
Suddenly, I was very nervous. I pushed out of my seat, walking over to Brock’s side. “I don’t know what to do!”
Fox slowly walked over to me, the menace in his eyes frightening. “You keep pressure on his wound. You make sure he doesn’t fucking bleed out because if he does, you won’t need protection from the men trying to kidnap you. You’ll need protection from me.”
I stepped back, swallowing hard at the threat. Fox nodded, then turned on his heel and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I rushed over to the drapes and looked outside, waiting until I was sure he was gone.
