Illusion (Billionaire in Disguise 2)

“Where the hell has she been shot?” he asked.

“Her arm. The paramedics said she nicked her brachial artery.”

“Shit.”

“It’s bad. Hold your position and—”

“Who the fuck shot her?” he hissed, cutting me off. “Did you see who it was?”

“Jacob Carl,” I said.

“What?”

“Jacob Carl was the one who shot Sam.”

I talked back and forth with John as we pulled into my private facility. The ambulance doors opened after I’d hung up the phone and Dr. Farlow was standing there to receive her. I hopped out and jogged next to the gurney Sam was lying on, her body unconscious and her arm still fucking bleeding.

“I need four pints of O positive blood and a prepped OR as quickly as you can get it for me,” the doctor said. “I also want IV bags with clotting agents as well as blood thinners on standby. I want to be ready for anything this woman throws at us before we can get her stable.”

“She crashed in the ambulance. We shocked her back, but her heart rate’s still unstable,” one of the paramedics said.

“Mr. Steele, the nurse will take you to the recovery room she’ll be delivered to,” the doctor said.

“I’m not leaving her side,” I said.

“You have to for now. I’ve got this. She’ll be back with you in a while. Let me do what I do,” the doctor said.

I stopped jogging as Sam was wheeled through two massive automatic double doors. Everyone was running alongside her as a nurse grabbed my arm. She tugged me in the direction of the best facilities this town had to offer, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Sam.

I watched her disappear around the corner, her lifeless hand hanging off the gurney.

If that son of a bitch killed Sam, I’d wreck everything I’d built to find him. I’d wrap my hands around his neck and watch the life drain from his eyes.

Jacob Carl better fucking pray Sam made it out of this alive. Because if she didn’t, there was no prison that would be able to protect him from me.

None whatsoever.

Chapter 2

Sam

I WOKE TO THE SOUNDS of beeping and murmuring. The lingering smell of disinfectant hung in the air, but the light in the room was dimmed. I could feel the IVs running in and out of my body. I had an oxygen tube on my face, shooting air through my nose. My head felt dizzy, and my stomach felt uneasy.

And fuck, my arm was on fire.

My eyes fluttered open, and I looked all around me. I wasn’t in a traditional hospital, that much was for sure. The bed was too comfortable, and the blankets were too luxurious. I was on fucking Egyptian cotton sheets in a room big enough to be my damn living area. There was an open door in the corner that boasted of an in-ground jet tub and a walk-in shower.

Where the hell was I?

I turned my head, grimacing at the pain that shot through my shoulder. Derek was asleep in a chair next to me, his hand lying across my wrist. The nighttime sky had covered the whole of San Francisco, and suddenly the events of the day came rushing back to me.

The washroom suite.

Derek’s office.

The gun.

Jacob.