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She has a sprained ankle, a hairline fracture to her upper right arm and a broken pinkie finger. Her ribs are slightly bruised and small cuts litter her body, especially the exposed skin. There are two deep ones on her face, a jagged one running along the jawline, the other at the top of her forehead. Both stitched up. The recoil from the shotgun fucked with the wrist on her left hand. Not broken, but she’ll need to baby it for a while.
I don’t know whether to rage at her recklessness or rejoice over the spine my beautiful woman has.
After I rescued Evanee, my brothers invaded Crip’s clubhouse, but no fire was exchanged. Crip was outnumbered and he had three men down, so he laid down his weapon first. Helped that Hangman was holding a gun to his head at the time.
Which brings us to now, Evanee smiling brightly while Hangman looks like he wants to throttle her.
Joker sticks his head in the door. “Crip’s here, Prez,” he says. “Wants a convo.”
Hangman nods and points at Evanee. “She tries to leave, you fuckin’ tie her down.” He’s a pacing bull right now, wanting to gore someone, but there’s respect in his eyes when he looks at my girl. To Joker, he says, “We play this cool, right? Need the shit between us and those fuckers to settle down.”
I raise my eyebrows at Joker when he nods. He’s gonna have his hands full because Hangman’s still too pumped to ‘play it cool’. And me—I set eyes on the sonofabitch who almost killed my girl and I’ll separate his head from his body.
After they leave, I drop a careful kiss on Evanee’s forehead. “Your parents are out there wanting to talk to you.”
“They can wait,” she says as she gropes for my hand. “I need you.”
I gently squeeze her fingers. “I’m here, baby.”
“Not like that,” she replies with a seductive smile.
I sit back in the chair, my face slack. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You’re torn up, bruised, broken, and you wanna fuck?”
She nods as she fumbles with the tape on her arm, flinches as she pulls it off, then slides the intravenous needle out. “I need you, lover. I need to feel you inside me. Your arms around me.”
I glance around the room, look at the open door. “We don’t got enough privacy.”
She winces as she sits up, then extends her left arm. “Help me stand. We’ll go to the bathroom.”
“No,” I tell her even though my dick is waving furiously at me. “We can fuck when we get home. You need to get better.”
“I’m good enough,” she argues as she inches off the bed.
I grab her as she starts to collapse. “You ain’t. This is not gonna happen.”
She gropes my crotch, runs her fingers up the hard ridges. “Take me into the bathroom. You’ll be gentle.”
“I don’t even know the meaning of the fucking word,” I hiss, but I’m already picking her up.
In the bathroom, I kick the door shut behind us and assess the situation. Tub, shower, toilet. Sink. Even a fucking urinal. “There’s no place to do this.”
“We could sit on the toilet,” she suggests, her eyes surveying it doubtfully.
“Fuck that.” I set her down on the toilet seat, then open the door again and peek my head around the corner. Room’s still empty so I slip out, grab the chair I was sitting on and carry it into the bathroom, flipping the lock on the door as I close it.
I set the chair next to the urinal, look at it, then change my mind and move it closer to the tub. It’s tight in here.
Evanee’s eyes are half-closed as she watches me, her shoulders uncharacteristically slumping.
“Oh, baby,” I say as kneel at her feet and slide my arms gently around her waist. “This can wait ‘til your better. Later, at home.”
It can’t, it can’t, it can’t,my dick is chanting.
Evanee agrees with it. “The one thing I learned today is that later might never happen. The clinic is replaceable, but you’re not.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I keep thinking of this morning when you left. I never told you I loved you, or to come home safe. Or to be careful.” She takes a gulp of air. “I can’t breathe when I think of you not here. I need proof that you are.”
My new, vulnerable Evanee. A side to her I didn’t know existed, and maybe it didn’t before this happened, but she’s right. When I thought I’d lost her, I wanted to die with her. “Me too,” I tell her as I slide my thumb under her eye, picking up a stray tear.
She smiles. “I’m pretty much helpless right now, so you’ll have to take the lead.”
