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“Lean forward,” I ordered as I slid one leg of the tights behind his back. I grabbed the other leg, positioning the crotch until it hovered over his wound. “This might hurt.”
“Wh—.” His words turned into a grunt of pain because I was already pulling. I sat on my ass, bracing my feet on the concrete as I yanked my makeshift tourniquet tight. It wasn’t ideal, but it would help.
“Fuck.” He cursed as I tied off the ends.
“I’m so—.”
“What the hell is going on?” I whipped around at the loud voice. A man who could only be my savior’s brother stood above me.
He was also tall with lean muscle. The same shade of brown hair and sharp jaw. Same dark suit and calm-in-the-face-of-chaos eyes, but his were hazel.
“There was a fight.” One of the club’s bouncers stepped up beside him. “He got the wrong end of the knife.”
“Shit.” The brother ran a hand through his hair. “Get him inside. Have someone send the ambulance back. Tell them it was a false alarm. And clear the street. Pay off who you have to.”
My brows furrowed as he gave order after order. Each one felt more off than the next. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that maybe these weren’t good guys. Good guys didn’t turn away the police or pay to silence people.
Fear slithered through my veins, penetrating the calm I felt while treating his injuries. But then, two more bouncers lifted my savior. Worry for him replaced my fear. “What are you doing?”
My blood-soaked hands fell to my sides as they walked towards the club. My heart pounded in my chest as my savior tilted his head to look for me.
“Thanks for your help, but we’ve got him.” The brother said as he bent down to pick up a leather ledger. He turned to follow, dismissing me. I rushed after them.
They might be big, but my smaller frame allowed me to slip between them until I was walking beside my savior. I placed my hand over his wound, and he covered it with his own. Electricity sparked on my skin.
His brother snapped his gaze to me. “You can go.”
I heard the command in his tone, but I wasn’t afraid of him. My glare matched his. “No.” His eyes widened in surprise. “He saved me. I’m not going to let you kill him by having some kid with an EMT license and a first-aid kit stitch him up. I’m going with him.”
We paused just inside the club. Music still pumped from the speakers, penetrating the dark corner we stood in. The air around us seemed heavy with our standoff, but I wasn’t backing down.
I meant what I said. He saved my life, and I wanted to make sure he lived to tell the tale. Asking them to go to the hospital was pointless, but I could help.
“You know what you’re doing?”
“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes.
“Sassy and demanding.” The brother’s lips twitched. “He could use that.”
4
Lark
My suspicions were confirmed as they led us into an office. It was up a staircase behind the bar. But it wasn’t the standard desk and computer. Instead, there was a comfortable couch, a padded exam table, and shelves full of medical supplies. Only people who get injured a lot need a room like this.
“On the table,” I ordered as they tried to set my savior on the couch. The brother raised a brow. “The lighting is better. I’ll need to see to stitch him up.”
He nodded for the guys to listen, then stopped them as they tried to leave. “Get Vander. He should be around the corner at the charity dinner with Grace.”
I let my savior’s hand go as I moved through the room. I opened cabinets until I located what I needed. It was better stocked than I’d first assumed. I found saline, gauze, a suture kit, even a vial of lidocaine, and a clean needle.
“Can you patch him up?”
“I won’t know until I wash the blood away,” I answered as I went back to the table. I was too short to sit on the stool and still be able to work, so I stood. “But if he needs a hospital, not even you and your thugs will stop me from taking him.”
The brother’s deep chuckle came from right behind me as he adjusted the light so I could see better. “He’s my brother. I wouldn’t risk his life.”
“I figured.” My savior hissed as I yanked my tights free and peeled away his bloody shirt.
