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“Thank fuck for that.”
“You know this isn’t your fault, right?” Nick’s dark eyes bore into him, always able to read his mind.
“The only reason Lisbeth was at Valley View is because of me.” Samson scrubbed a hand over his face. “She was worried and coming to check on me, so yeah, it is my fuckin’ fault.”
Nick gripped his shoulder. “Just try to take it easy.”
The doctor appeared a few minutes later, and Samson broke away from Nick. “How’s she doing?”
Before the doctor could respond, a nurse pushed Lisbeth into the waiting area in a wheelchair. Samson’s heart slammed so hard against his ribs he thought it would pop out of his chest. Her pale skin was translucent, with deep shadows under her eyes, and her arm was wrapped in a thick bandage anchored in a sling.
“Why is she in a wheelchair?” he asked the doctor.
“The bullet grazed her arm, but no permanent damage. The wheelchair is hospital policy.”
Samson thanked whatever higher power might still listen to him.
He rushed forward and gently eased her out of the wheelchair, then drew her close. Lisbeth folded into his embrace, and he felt her steady heartbeat against his chest. The doctor handed him papers about her after-care, she signed some release forms, and they were finally free to leave.
Madeline, Nick, and the Serpents crowded around them with good wishes and fist bumps, but Samson could see the weariness in her eyes. He wanted to get Lisbeth back to the penthouse where he could take care of her and baby the shit out of her until she felt better—and all his guilt disappeared.
“Let’s get you home.” The words sounded natural because from now on, wherever he and Lisbeth were would be home—their home.
Frank walked toward Samson, and Nick immediately stepped forward. “He doesn’t need any bullshit now.”
He glared at Nick, then turned to Samson. “Just need a word.”
He handed Lisbeth off to Madeline. “I’ll only be a minute.”
The two men moved to the side of the waiting room. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been in deep shit in that locker room.”
“It all worked out.” Samson looked over Frank’s shoulder, keeping Lisbeth in his sight. “Just wanna get my girl home.”
“You can consider your debt paid in full.”
“Appreciate it.” Unfortunately, Lisbeth had to take a bullet for his freedom.
“There’s something else.” Frank paused.
Samson shifted his feet. “Look, I don’t need any long, drawn-out explanations.”
“It’s about Yvette.” Frank’s eye twitched. “She was bad news. She was out of control, cost me money, and was careless with all the blow she shoved up her nose. She would’ve brought us all down.”
“It was a long time ago.” Samson had no desire to dig up old shit now.
“I went to your apartment that night and found the two of you up on the roof. Yvette was screaming her damn head off on the ledge, and you trying to coax her down, so I told you to go back to your apartment. I told you I would handle her.”
Samson’s brain flashed with the memory, and fragments vaguely came back to him. At the time, he was relieved to let Frank deal with her.
“It was the only way.”
Samson’s muddled brain tried to make sense of Frank’s words. “What are you saying?"
Frank’s eyes hardened. “She was holding you back. You wouldn’t have gotten where you are today if she was still around. I did you a favor that night.”
“A favor?”
“I knew you’d never do it, so I took care of the problem.”
