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“That bitch shot me.”
“Yeah, she did.”
“She’s dead?” I ask, knowing that the prospect had to have shot her when she shot at me.
“She is.”
“Fuck. Cross is going to lose it.”
“I know. I need to call him,” Badger says.
“No. He’s busy,” I tell him.
“Fuck that shit, Raven. You’ve been shot. He’s gonna wanna know about that.” I shut my mouth and try not to focus on the pain as it rips through me. Before I know it, Badger is lifting me in his arms and carrying me down the hall.
“What are you doing?” I ask as the pain shoots through me.
“Doc’s comin’ to fix you up,” he says, walking me into one of the spare rooms and laying me on the bed. That’s when Cheryl and Evie both come in with the prospect.
“Cross is on his way,” he tells us.
“No, he has something to do.”
“You’re more important, Raven,” Cheryl tells me. “The others will handle business.”
“Does he know about her?” I ask.
“No, not yet.”
“Fuck,” I mumble as the door opens again. This time I see a man in a white coat walk in with a bag. I can only assume it’s the doctor. He walks over and sets his things down before he clears the room and gets to work.
When he’s finished, I have stitches and pain medicine.
“You’re going to feel tired from the medicine, and I want you to rest.” I nod my groggy head.
“We’ll make sure she rests,” Cheryl chimes in. She stayed with me the whole time, holding my hand and reassuring me that everything was okay.
“Good. I’ll come by tomorrow and check on you,” the doc says before collecting his things and leaving. I look up at Cheryl, and she smiles.
“You’re lucky it went straight through,” she tells me.
“Yeah.” That’s when we hear him. Cross.
“Where the hell is she?” he roars at the top of his lungs. Cheryl and I share a glance before she smiles and walks to the door. By the time she’s pulling it open, he’s storming through it.
“What the fuck?” he asks as he walks closer to the bed. Cheryl leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
“I know. You’re gone for an hour, and this happens,” I tell him.
“Who did it? I’ll kill whoever did this to you,” he says, pacing along the edge of the bed.
“It was your mom, Cross. And the prospect shot her,” I tell him. He stops walking and looks over at me.
“What?”
“She had a gun and was looking for you.” I go on to tell him what happened and how before he blows out a breath and sits on the edge of the bed.
“You’re lucky it only hit your shoulder,” he says softly.
“Yeah, I am. I’m sorry you had to come back.”
“What the hell, Raven. You’re more important to me than that shit.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah, baby. You are. And you always will be.”
