AllFreeNovel
Share Us
63JM
63JM
63JM
I repeat it three more times, committing it to memory. It’s not much but it’s enough for Dex to work his magic.
“Thorn,” Oakland whimpers.
“Shit. Sorry, babe.” Scrambling to my feet, I help Oakland up and tuck her close as chaos erupts around us.
Nurses and doctors come rushing through the sliding doors. “Her arm,” I rush out when they seem more focused on me. “I think it's broken.”
“Thorn, please. Let them look at you, too. You're bleeding,” she pleads, her voice shaky.
Looking down, I notice my arm has some pretty gnarly road rash from the fall. It’s a little sore, but I can wait. “I’m fine, baby. It's just a scratch.”
“Please, honey.”
“Pulling out the big guns, woman,” I tell her before placing a soft kiss on her lips.
“Let me clean that up for you while they take Oak for an X-ray,” Harley insists.
“Fine,” I give in.
Ten minutes later, sporting a bandage wrap on my arm, I pull out my phone and his call.
“Need you to get Dex to run a plate for me. ASAP.”
Knox’s reply comes almost instantly. “What's going on?”
I glance at Oakland, who's listening to Harley give her instructions about her cast. I’d find the whole thing funny if the circumstances were different.
“Someone just tried to run us down at the hospital. I'm thinking it might be the doctor Oakland reported today.”
“Fuck,” comes Knox’s reply. “You both okay?”
“Oakland has a broken arm.” I grind my teeth. “Just get me that info.”
Hanging up, I pocket my phone and try to calm down as Oakland walks over to me. “Can we go home now?” she asks, her voice small.
“Yeah, baby. Let's get you home.” With my arm around her shoulders, I lead her out to my truck.
The drive home is silent, Oakland staring out the window lost in her thoughts.
“Hey,” I say softly, reaching over to take her hand. “I’m going to find who did this and take care of it.”
She turns to look at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I know. That’s what I’m afraid of.”
When we pull up to the house, I'm relieved to see Easy's bike in the driveway. He must have come straight over after I texted him from the hospital.
“Come on,” I say, helping Oakland out of the truck. “You need to rest.”
She's putting on a brave face, but I can tell that her arm is hurting.
When we step inside the house, Easy jumps up from the sofa. His eyes go to Oakland’s pink new cast and narrow. None of us like to see a woman hurt. “You two, okay?”
I nod, guiding Oakland towards the stairs. “She needs to rest.”
