Wretched Love

There were muttered curses from behind him as he listed Kate’s injuries that were anything but calm.

“She may be bleeding internally,” Hansen continued. “We can’t treat her at the club.”

Hospital.

It was with only the very worst-case scenarios that we fucked with hospitals. Sarah, the doctor the club trusted, could do almost anything at the club.

Almost.

Hospitals had protocols, paper trails, things that would become inconvenient for us.

Life or death. That’s what hospitals were reserved for.

“Well, then we’re gettin’ her to a fuckin’ hospital,” I snarled.

Hansen nodded, watching me carefully. I realized I was still pointing my piece at him.

“We’ve got a Prospect with a van fifteen minutes out,” Cody reported, staring at Kate in horror.

All of the brothers were. Except Hades. That motherfucker had nothing on his face. Which was most dangerous.

“Can get an ambulance here in five,” Elden grunted, phone at his ear.

“Does she have five minutes?” I asked Hansen, lowering my gun.

We were all on bikes. There was no way to transport her even if she didn’t.

Hansen nodded. “Yeah, she’ll hold on,” he said firmly. “She’s strong.”

I looked down at her, brushing the hair that was stuck to her face in blood. “Yeah, Countess,” I murmured. “You’re strong. You can hold on. Hold on for me.”

My eyes found Hades. The only person I would trust with the request I was going to make.

“You need to find the husband. Find him. Make him hurt. Don’t cut anything off, but make him fuckin’ hurt. Make him want to die. Take him back to the club where I can finish him.”

Hades nodded, not hesitating to climb back on his bike and roar off.

The husband would die. Slowly. If he died or not, did not depend on whether Kate made it or not.

If I died or not depended on whether Kate made it or not.