Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Dr. Aleck.
Pulling my gun from the back of my jeans, I rap it against the door.
“I’m good, thanks anyway!” a male voice shouts, his words muffled by the thick door.
I knock again.
“Damn it! I said I don’t need anything!”
Again, I knock. Answer the fucking door.
“Son of a bitch!”
The door is finally jerked open and a short man with dark curls hanging into his eyes stares at me. He pulls his white fluffy robe closed, concealing the rest of him. His dark eyes fall to the gun in my hand and he begins to shake. Swiftly, I shove my boot into the door so he can’t close and lock it.
“Grab your medical bag. Now.” My voice calm, the barrel now pointing right at him.
His Adam’s apple bobs and he finally looks up at me.
“Yes, okay. Just don’t kill me.”
“Do what I ask and I won’t.” He takes a step back to the left of the door and grabs a black bag, an ashen look on his face.
“Step out. Walk to the stairs,” I order.
Following my directions, he comes out of the room, his feet in white cotton slippers. Jesus Christ, is that what money does to a man? Turning them into fluffy slipper-wearing bitches?
Gun pressed to his back, I stand only a foot behind him so if there are any cameras in the hall they won’t see my gun. We go up one flight of stairs and then stop, his head slightly turning for my next order.
“Keep going until the next floor,” I growl under my breath.
He does what he’s told, and we head up until reaching the second floor. He stops again as if he doesn’t know how a door works, so I open it and shove him out into the hall. He’s small with no muscle tone. In fact, I think Delilah has more strength than this guy.
Hooking my arm around him like we’re good buddies. “Almost there,” I mutter under my breath, and he nods frantically. I take him to my room and shove him inside. Turning, I shut and lock the door.
Delilah jumps to her feet, her hands covering her mouth in shock.
“Who the fuck is that?” She points at the man in the robe who is turning to look at me, then back to Delilah.
“The doctor.” The man looks back to Delilah and my eyes take her beautiful figure in. She’s still in her panties and bra and this man is not taking his eyes off her. “Put your clothes on, D.”
Her brows narrow with anger, obviously not liking me bossing her around.
“Now!” I bark, and she jumps where she stands.
“There’s a robe behind the bathroom door,” the doctor informs her.
Taking a step back, I open the bathroom door and flip the light on, I find the robe in plastic hanging from a silver hook. Snatching it, I leave the bathroom and toss it at Delilah, who is staring at the doctor like he’s a mirage.
The robe lands on the bed and she grabs at it.
“I cannot believe you did this,” she hisses under her breath, her fingers tearing the plastic off the robe.
“Did what? Save your ass, again?” I cant my head to the side, winning me another famous glare from princess Delilah.
Turning her back to us, her ass cheeks hanging out from her panties, she slips on the robe, tying the sash in front of her.
“You.” I wave my gun from the doctor to Delilah. “Fix her face.”
He walks over to her with his bag in hand and sits on the bed next to her.
Reaching out to touch her, he says, “It’s pretty deep.”
“Get your hands off her,” I growl, my chest puffing out in rage. He slowly turns his head toward me, his dark silky hair in his eyes.
“I have to touch her if I’m going to stitch it closed.” His voice dips to a ridiculing level, and I want to pistol whip him.
“I can take it from here, Big Chief. Thanks.” Delilah stands up for herself, reminding me she’s independent and not mine.
“Just fucking do it already,” I order, scratching the side of my head with the barrel of the gun.
Shaking his head, he opens his bag and begins to pull out tools and wipes.
“You know, if you knocked on my door like a civilized person, I would have helped. No gun needed,” he tells me while focusing on a needle going into Delilah’s cheek. That must be to numb it.
“This wasn’t my idea,” Delilah whispers to the guy as he sews her face with a needle and thread like he’s stitching a doll back together.
I just scoff. If I didn’t find her a doctor, her face would have got infected, or leave a horrid scar behind. Shadow would have fucking killed me for not getting her cleaned up. As a prospect, it’s my job to use common sense, it’s what’ll get me my rocker.