by Leah Wilde
Tossing the needle, I moved on. I set up the IV as quickly as I could, setting it up in the back of his right hand. I didn’t have a stand for the bag, so I pushed the cot to the side of the room where there were several coat hooks. I hung it up there and gave it a couple of squeezes to make sure it was flowing.
Finally, it was time to do the hard stuff, the stuff that was scaring the crap out of me. I had to sew up this guy’s middle.
I had to pull out the large piece of shrapnel first and did so on a single jerk. Blood started gushing immediately.
“Shit!”
I grabbed several of the sterile pads and wadded them up over the wound to slow the bleeding. I had to get him sewn up soon or it wouldn’t matter how much damn plasma I had.
You can do this, Jazz, you can do this, I told myself over and over again as I reached for the needle with shaking hands.
I had some practice with sutures, but it was minimal. Very minimal. Like, my friends at med school let me sit in on a few classes, and when they practiced outside of class, they let me try some. I was a nurse, not a doctor. I hadn’t trained for this, though I could do it in an emergency.
Swallowing harshly, I began.
The coarse threads tugged through the body disconcertingly. I tried to tell myself that it was just like sewing up a hole in a dress, but my mind wasn’t buying it. This was different. The skin tugged and pulled as I sewed x’s to hold it together.
I was sweating profusely, the beads dripping down my forehead and into my eyes. I kept thinking, I’ve got to save him. It was what kept me going, even when the flesh moved in ways that made my stomach churn, and my hand shook so badly that I had to give myself a moment before continuing.
I had to switch out the wad of bandages once to soak up the blood, but after what felt like an eternity, I finally had the biggest wound closed up.
By the end, I was shaking pretty badly.
I went to the sink and washed up all over again. I changed my gloves and splashed cool water on my face, wiping away the sweat. I felt exhausted but hopeful. The worst part was done, right?
Washing up again, I grabbed a new pair of gloves, then went back to my patient. He was still breathing, and I was thoroughly relieved. At least he was alive for now.
Now that I had the worst—or what I thought was the worst—done, I moved on to the rest of him. I checked his legs for major abrasions and cleaned the small ones. From what I could tell, he didn’t have any broken limbs, though I had to pull a finger back into place and set it. I was grateful he remained unconscious for that.
After a long while, I was finally done. I couldn’t guarantee anything—he needed a doctor, not me—but he was better off than he’d been when I found him tonight.
I was just pulling off my gloves when the door opened again. “Well?” demanded an irate Chip.
I really need to figure out what his real name is, I thought in that half delirious way that comes from being really tired. “He’s alive. That’s all I can say right now.”
Mr. Chippendale dancer didn’t look thrilled by my answer. “Goddamn it. What do you mean that’s all you can say? Is he going to fucking survive or not?”
I tossed the dirty, bloody latex gloves into the trash along with wads of bloodied bandages and the remains of Keenan’s shirt. I shot the irate man at the door an annoyed glance. “How the fuck should I know?” I said hotly. I was tired and stressed. My tolerance for assholes was notoriously low. I didn’t know if the man I had worked on tonight would survive. And dammit, I was even a little scared. “He’s alive. There’s nothing else I can do.”
The sexy man narrowed his eyes at me and stalked forward. A shiver ran through my body that was only half fear. I blamed my hormones and the fact that I’d been single ever since Kyle. It was enough to make any girl irrationally attracted to a gorgeously built asshole, right?
I swallowed heavily, then wetted my lips.
“So what the fuck do we do now?” he demanded. Beneath all that anger and bravado, I thought I heard worry.
It softened me just a little bit. He’s worried about his friend, I reminded myself. I told myself that the concern was what was making him angry. Whether that was true or not didn’t matter just then. My voice was softer, soothing as I answered, “We wait.”
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Also by Leah Wilde
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Ruined by the Biker
I WAS PURE – UNTIL HE PUT A BABY IN MY BELLY.
I didn't ask for this.
Not for the heartbreak. Not for the violence.
I certainly didn't ask to be my father's daughter.
Rules, rules, rules – that's how he lives his life.
I just wanted to know what freedom felt like.
So I took a ride on the wild side.
I went to a dangerous place, and I left with a dangerous man.
He took me in his arms and pierced me to my core.
Over. And over. And over again.
I could have died happy right then and there.
To be rocked like that – consumed, devoured – was the freedom I was looking for.
But I got something else, too. Something I never expected.
I got pregnant.
Now, my world is crumbling.
My daddy and the father of my baby are at war with each other.
People are dying.
Buildings are burning.
Tears and blood are flowing like rivers.
And in the middle of it, I'm standing here, desperate for something I never imagined:
I'm desperate to be ruined by the biker – just one more time.
Wed to the Biker
I’M STUCK AT THE ALTAR WITH MY WORST NIGHTMARE.
All I ever wanted was to get out of this life.
No more bikers, no more leather, no more crime.
But being the daughter of an MC president means that trouble is never far behind.
When I’m attacked by a mysterious man on the eve of my final semester in college, I know exactly where to go for answers:
Back home to dear old Daddy.
But going back there gives me more than I’d bargained for.
Before I can stop it, everything is going wrong.
Betrayal abounding.
Enemies approaching.
Cancer devouring my father’s body.
And when he dies, he leaves me with one last gift…
A marriage I never asked for.
Now, I’m gazing through a white veil at a hulking, tattooed brute of a man.
He looks like he wants to eat me or break me, whichever comes first.
And yet, part of me wants him to claim every inch of my body…
I just wanted a normal life.
But there’s no such thing as normal when you’re wed to a biker.
Bones
Revenge came at a price. So did she.
They say if you love something, let it go.
I’ve never believed in that B.S.
When I see something I want, I make it mine.
That’s exactly what happened when Isabel showed up on that auction block.
She looked innocent. Terrified. And oh so f**kable.
I had a mission to complete, but I put it on hold and did what I wanted:
I bought her.
It could cost me my life.
After years of waiting to strike back, I’m going behind enemy lines.
If I let Isabel become a distraction, I could get a knife in my back.
But I’ll take that risk. It’s time to have my revenge.
It turns out that my enemies might be one step ahead.
Before I can stop it, betrayal comes fast a
nd blood comes faster.
They’re coming after everyone I love.
They’d better be careful, though. I always protect what’s mine.
Also by Ada Stone
Raw
FOR 24 HOURS, WE'RE GOING TO DO THINGS MY WAY – ROUGH, RELENTLESS, AND RAW.
When Belle walked into that hospital waiting room, she didn't know it yet, but her life was about to change.
I didn't give a damn why she was there.
All I knew was that I had to have her.
I've never been a patient man.
I told her what I wanted.
She could've said any of a million things in response, but what she said took even me by surprise.
24 hours.
That was the deal.
24 hours to have her however I wanted, wherever I wanted.
There was only one rule:
It had to be raw.
Temper
TEMPERS BURN HOT. LOVE BURNS HOTTER.
I like the innocent girls, the doe-eyed broads, the ones who want to venture into the dark side but are still a little scared of what they might find there.
Amelia was all that and more.
She had sexy curves and not a clue how to use them.
Luckily for her, I did.
I took her without a second thought, knowing that I would never see her again.
Consequences be damned – what did I care if I ruined her for those suburban boys, the kind she’s “supposed” to go for? Not my problem.
After all, I had a club to run and a mayor intent on stamping out me and every last man in my club.
Amelia wasn’t even an afterthought.
But that only lasted for six weeks. When she shows up on my doorstep, she drops three bombs in quick succession.
She’s the mayor’s daughter.
My stepsister.
And she’s pregnant with my child.
My life will never be the same.
Spear
SHE CAN'T STAY AWAY FROM THE TIP OF MY SPEAR.
Raina Taylor – world-famous actress, star of a million men's fantasies…
And my newest assignment.
When I see a man assaulting a lone woman late one night, I do what any decent human being would do – I beat his face into a bloody pulp. Okay, fine, maybe I went a little too far, but that's just the way I do things. You don't get to where I am in life by doing what most others would do. My job as the right-hand man for President Ryker, leader of the Cruel Angels MC, is not for the faint of heart.
It's for the bold.
The cruel.
The violent.
In other words, me.
Long story short, it turns out that the girl I've rescued is superstar celebrity Raina Taylor. She starts to thank me, but one look at my tattoos, my muscles, and the infamous Cruel Angels patch on my leather jacket, and she thinks maybe she's not so fortunate after all.
Not that I care what this bratty princess thinks. I've got other things on my mind, and I leave her without a second thought. But I get one hell of a nasty shock when I get back to the Cruel Angels HQ and Ryker tells me I've got a new job – protecting his niece from a crazy stalker.
And lo and behold, who is my boss's niece?
You guessed it – the prissy little movie star herself.
Now, I'm stuck tailing her around and trying to keep her out of harm's way.
But the more she sasses back at me…
The more she tries to tease me, tempt me, screw with me…
The more I want to do one thing and one thing only:
Take her to bed and show her who's boss.
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