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Her thighs shifted and squeezed together.
“And if you managed to get off on it and come before I wanted you to, I’d drag you up onto my lap and spank your hot ass until it was decorated in my handprints.”
Her whole body trembled beside me as my cock throbbed, hard and ready to fuck again.
“And that’s a sedate fantasy in comparison to some of the things I’ve thought about doing to you,perla.”
With those thoughts fresh in my mind, I would have liked nothing better than to flip her over and fuck her, but mixed in with the arousal that shone in her eyes, there was something else. Something was really troubling her.
She breathed in and out, slow and deep, deliberate.
“Maybe you’re right,” she said—which, peculiarly, I didn’t care for. “What you’re saying doesn’t frighten me; it excites me. But what I fear are the changes within myself.”
She swallowed. Looked up at the ceiling. Looked back to me.
“A patient was brought into the ER today. He’d been shot in the back. Someone had shot him while he was running away. I couldn’t help but see it… imagine it.” She shook her head. “It’s never happened before. Itshouldn’thave happened.”
“I’ve seen gunshot wounds,perla;they’re not pretty. And to see someone had shot him in the back like a coward, of course your brain’s going to run with that.”
“No, Amadeo. I know better than that. I know that what I do requires the kind of detachment that others would call cold and unfeeling. But feeling uses up precious seconds and compromises one’s judgment. My judgment was compromised today because there are no neat and tidy boxes left in my head. Instead of a broken body that I could put back together, I saw a poor, freckle-faced teenage boy on that trauma room table.”
Her words had my ears perking up, a very different part of my brain tuning in.
“Freckles?” I asked, but it had to be a coincidence.
She looked at me like I was completely missing the point. “Do you have something against freckles?”
The back of my neck prickled. I might have been grasping at straws here, but my gut was telling me I wasn’t.
“A teenager, maybe fifteen or sixteen years old?” I asked. “Not many freckles on his forehead or chin, but a shit-ton of them across his cheeks and nose?”
She stiffened. “Yes. Why?”
Reluctantly, I released her and sat up.
“There might be a problem,” I said as I stood up and zipped my fly.
“I don’t understand,” she said as she followed me up.
“If this freckle-faced kid is the same boy I’m thinking it is, I need to get to the hospital right now.”
“What? Why?” she asked as she retrieved her dress and put it back on.
“Because otherwise, the kid may be very dead, very soon.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Heidi
“What exactly is it you intend to do?” I asked as I followed Amadeo to my front door, hopping on one foot as I tried to shove my other foot into my shoe—a pair of flats because there was no way I was sticking my feet back into the high-heeled death traps I’d had on this evening.
“I’m going to go keep the kid from getting any more holes in him,” Amadeo said.
“But how—”
“I need to go right now,perla.”He leaned in to kiss me, but I took a step back.
“Then I’m coming with you,” I said, using the brief pause to shove my other foot into a shoe.
