Remy (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 4)

“Right,” Lark agreed. “Hence why I can’t just not show up. I have to be there. I am the one keeping things running. I mean, I might be able to swing a couple days off. But even if I can do that, what are the chances that that’s enough time? Right? Like, won’t they keep looking for me? I’m no criminal expert or anything, clearly, but usually in the shows, the bad guys tend to be pretty tenacious.”

“Tell you what,” I said, tone calm because her anxiety just seemed to keep growing, despite being safe at the moment. “Make your calls, move around your schedule, and get yourself a couple days. That will buy me a little time to dig into this, see who these fucks are, and that will tell us a lot more about how this will go.

“If they are just low-level criminal scumbags, they aren’t going to track you down to hurt or kill you. That’s not their wheelhouse.”

“But if they aren’t low-level?”

“Let’s just hope they are,” I suggested. “Teddy, can you grab those keys for us?”

“Yep. I will go call my guy now. They will be here in twenty,” he said, moving toward the door.

“Teddy,” Lark called, making him turn back.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, hon,” he said, shaking his head, and turning to leave.

“I am going to need my other dogs,” she said, her animals clearly the first thing on her mind. Which was endearing as fuck.

“Of course,” I agreed. “I just want to check your ribs, and then we can figure out how we are going to fit all the animals. What kind of dogs do you have? Aside from Alma?”

“Two little ankle-biting mixes. One fluffy, some sort of poodle mix, the other not, more of a Jack Russel mix. That is about as close to a breed as I can get,” she said, shaking her head.

“Alright. I can follow you back to your place then in one of the cars here. We can pack up your guys, let you grab a bag for yourself, and your pet supplies, and head over to Teddy’s place.”

“I can’t believe he is just going to let me stay there. I mean, who does that? He doesn’t know me at all.”

“Teddy has a soft spot for women who need a little help. And, like I said, he’s stupid rich. He wouldn’t even know that he wasn’t making income from this one property.”

“I have to thank you too,” she said, taking my hand when I offered to help her stand.

“No, you don’t.”

“What are you? A movie hero? Who says things like that? Of course I have to thank you. You’re doing a nice thing. And you don’t even know me.”

“I’m not doing anything,” I said, shrugging it off.

“You’re going to look into them for me.”

“Yeah, nothing,” I said, getting a snort out of her. “You need some help?” I asked, grabbing the hem of her shirt.

“Ah, yeah,” she said, nodding. “Don’t judge how sweaty I am. It is five million degrees out. And I just committed robbery. Then was attacked. So, I’m pretty sweaty,” she babbled as I started to lift her sweater.

“Can you hold it here?” I asked, pinning it just under the band of her bra, and willing myself not to think about what was underneath.

I prodded at her side carefully, noticing the dark bruising, but generally satisfied that it wasn’t broken. It didn’t even look that badly bruised.

“This will be fine. It is going to hurt like a bitch for a few days. You’re going to want to ice or heat it, depending on which makes you feel better, and maybe take some pain medicine. It might be a week or two until you can move without wincing.”

“It’s amazing.”

“What is?”

“That we have pretty much made it so you can do damn near everything online. You can work from anywhere. You can do virtual doctor visits. But no one has figured out how to make minor, but painful, injuries more tolerable? Like they’re still using plaster casts. What kind of backward nonsense is that?”

“Some places offer 3D printed ones that allow for breathing room. And they’re waterproof.”