To Save Sir (Doms of Decadence 7)

Curt glanced away from the stairs to stare up at Travis as he leaned against the entrance to the kitchen.

“What do you mean?” Although he knew exactly what the other man meant. He kept managing to upset Jenna. He always spoke without thinking first. He wasn’t normally like this. He’d learned with Amelia to weigh each word first, so he didn’t set her off into one of her rages or crying spells. But with Jenna, things just kept coming out wrong.

What he’d really wanted was to get her some pain relievers and a glass of water then sit on the couch with her head on his lap so he could massage away the headache he could see was annoying her. He’d wanted to tell her to talk to him, to let him take some of the load.

He’d wanted to strip off her clothes, put her in a bath, pamper her, love her, then sleep with her all night. But he couldn’t say any of that. Not yet.

Irritation at himself for pushing her away, combined with sexual frustration meant he’d ended up growling at her instead.

“You’re lucky I’m here to smooth things over.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Because from where I’m sitting it looks like you’re coming on to my woman.” And he was making Curt look even more like an asshole.

Travis raised an eyebrow. “Not your woman though, is she? You better get your act together fast. Because that is not a woman who will remain single long.”

“So, you do want her?”

Travis shook her head. “Jenna’s a forever girl, and I’m not looking to settle down.” He turned away. “But she’s special, maybe she could change my mind.”

Curt ground his teeth together. Not happening. Not while he had breath in his body. He rose. It was about time he apologized for the asshole he’d been months ago. And for the way he was acting now.

Jenna stared down at her phone as it shook in her hand. Her breath came in fast pants. A sick feeling developed in her stomach. She’d thought Curt was exaggerating. She hadn’t really believed anyone would blame her for her father’s actions. But the text messages were there on her phone.

How does it feel to get rich from murdering innocent people?

Murdering bitch.

Hey, bitch, die.

There were some recorded messages, but she didn’t have the guts to listen to them. She sniffled. Oh, God. Her stomach lurched. The idea that strangers could hate her so much they’d send messages like this made her feel ill.

She stood, knowing she was going to vomit.

There was a knock on her door, and she half-screamed. “Jenna? You okay?” Curt pushed open the bedroom door just as a loud bang sounded.

With a screech, she dropped to the floor, the phone skittering across the floor. Sobbing hysterically, she placed her hands over her head.

The screams surrounded her. Terror-filled. Frightened. Babies cried. People yelled.

She looked over at Alana in alarm. They stood frozen in the make-shift clinic. Some of the patients lying on beds in the clinic started to yell out in alarm.

The patient Jenna had been examining, a young man with a bad infection in his leg due to lack of access to antibiotics, grabbed her arm, his eyes wide.

He climbed from the bed and took off. She didn’t bother to call him back. She looked over at Alana as their patients hastily left.

“What is it?” she asked the other woman, her heart racing. This was her first overseas assignment with Doctors Without Borders. Alana had been on a few, but the older, more experienced, woman looked shocked and scared.

“I don’t know. I think we better get out of here.”

The door to the clinic flew open, and armed men entered. They were dressed in khaki shirts and pants but they weren’t military or the local police. Neither one of those groups wore bandanas on the lower half of their faces.

Fear washed over her as she saw the machine guns in their hands. Oh, God, what was going on? What were they after?

“Whatever you want, just take it,” Alana told them as they advanced towards the women.

They turned their guns on them, and Alana cried out. Jenna was too scared to make a sound, her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the two men. Was this it? Was she going to die here?

Oh, God, had her parents been right?