“Help!” a woman screamed, stumbling through the front door. “They came after me at my house!”
She came straight towards Zoe, who took two steps back. “I can't.”
“Please,” the woman said, holding her arm. The wound was a thick gash, blood pumping to the floor, but it wasn't life threatening. She could do this much, at least.
“You!” she yelled at the shifter called Jace. He raised his eyes at her. “Come over here and give me a hand!”
“I don't know anything about this kind of stuff!” he said, frozen solid.
“You do exactly what she says, Jace!” Russ yelled over his shoulder. “She's going to help save everyone here!”
That pushed Jace into motion. He came close, holding out his outstretched hands as Zoe piled huge butterfly bandages and medical glue into his hands. “That wound isn't life threatening. Use the glue to close it up and then cover it with these bandages, then get her out of the way. Who's hurt the worst?”
She moved off to one of the men on the bar that Jace pointed to. She yelled orders at another shifter sitting behind the bar to get up and help her. He looked dazed and she noticed half of his face was red, burned, though he appeared to be in otherwise good condition. He was young, what little golden hair he had left that hadn't been burned away a striking match to his golden eyes.
“What's your name?” she asked the golden haired shifter, inspecting the man on the bar top. His throat had been ripped out, probably by a rival shifter. Blood was pooling all around him.
“It's Rick,” he said, shaking. “Rick.”
“Okay, Rick. We're going to save this man's life. I'll need you to hand me what I need.”
“I don't know anything in this bag.”
“I'll give you descriptions. We're going to do fine. Are you ready?”
Rick nodded. “Give me my scissors,” was Zoe's first command.
They'd stopped the bleeding pretty quickly. The man on the table might never talk again, but he wouldn't die here. If they couldn't get him to a hospital soon, though, all bets were off. She ordered another man to keep a watch on him and ordered Rick to follow her. The other man on the bar was already dead. “Cover this man up!” she yelled, moving on. A frightened woman pulled a table cloth from a table and covered him.
The next man was missing almost his entire leg below the knee. It was bloody, brutal work, cutting away the dead skin and cleaning his leg. Halfway through, he jolted awake, adrenaline coursing through his body, screaming. She'd told Rick, “Give him a dose of that!” and had pointed towards a syringe. He looked as if he was going to question what it was, but instead he plunged the needle into the man. He stilled almost immediately.
“This guy is in bad shape,” she said. “Those ambulances need to hurry. He's stable for now. Who's next?”
She found herself standing over the woman called Beth. She was laid on the same pool table as Derrick, their bodies close and a tangle of limbs. Not her ideal working conditions, but she had to work with what she had.
“You're doing great, Zoe,” Russ offered. He bent close to Derrick's chest and she could tell that he had been crushed under something heavy. Zoe knew that shifters were resilient to damage, but this looked like too much. She knew that Russ was torn up about having to leave Derrick for last, but she understood why. He was in bad shape. She didn't think he would survive even a few minutes longer.
“So you are a real doctor, after all,” she teased, trying to bring a little levity to the situation, reverting to operating room banter.
“Real as you can be without going to school for it,” he said, his laugh making her smile.
The woman underneath her was hurt, badly. Claws had torn her stomach nearly wide open. Zoe peered in, noticing that none of her organs had been damage. The cuts looked clean, though she'd lost a lot of blood.
“Can you save her?” Clive asked, hovering over her shoulder.
“I can if you give me some room!” she yelled, Clive shrinking back. She hated that she had had to yell at him, but things were serious. Beth didn't have much time left.
“Remember what you said last night about shifters always wanting the biggest, strongest kids?” Zoe asked, getting to work, calling out other tools she needed to Rick.
“Yeah. You mean the truth?”
“It may be the truth. But if you weren't as smart as you are, everyone here would be dead. Every single person would die. You're the reason these people will live.”
He didn't say anything, but she could tell she had gotten through to him. He renewed his focus, working on Derrick with everything he had. She wasn't sure if it would be enough, but at least there was hope now. At the same time, Zoe was just finishing up on Beth. She was another who would live, as long as there were no more serious complications and the ambulances were close.
Russ dropped his tools, wiping sweat from his forehead. They were done, as well as they could be, anyway. There had been a few of the shifters neither could save. Zoe looked around. She leaned against the table, hearing ambulance sirens nearing in the distance. She could finally relax.
“Russ!” an older, rugged looking man yelled from the back of the room, twin doors swinging open. “I need you in here. Bring the doctor. Grab your tools.”
Unsure of what was going on, Zoe grabbed a bag of tools and followed Russ into the room. The man swung the doors shut behind them. Inside, Zoe saw a gigantic table, surrounded by nice looking chairs. Somehow, she knew this was where the Clan made all of their important decisions.
Laying on the table was an older man, completely naked. Two even older men sat on one side of the table, smoking cigars. Despite the chaos that had just happened, they seemed completely at ease. As if this was something that happened all of the time.
“This is one of the leaders of the Clan that orchestrated the attacks on us and our clients,” the old man grated.
“Joe, this is one of the men that attacked us at the hospital,” Russ said, anger flaring across his body like a wave. Zoe leaned closer, really inspecting the man for the first time, and she gasped when she saw he was right. This was the man that had fired on her and Russ, destroying her car.
“He's hurt pretty badly, Joe,” Russ said, inspecting him. “What do you want us to do?”
“Save him. We have to get to the bottom of this. There's more to this than just an orchestrated attack on us and everyone we care about.”
The man coughed on the table, turning two black eyes onto Joe. “You!” he growled, but before he could say more, he coughed again.
“Let's get to work, Zoe.”
She hesitated. This was a man that had almost killed her and Russ. A man that had killed all of the men and women in the room outside. A man that had ruined lives. If they just left him alone for only a few more moments…
“I don't like him, either, Zoe. But it's our duty as doctors to save everyone we can.”
She nodded at him, grabbing the tools needed to save this man. This killer.
“He can tell us what else is planned. Who all is involved. If we save him, we can save more lives. It's the right move,” Russ said.
“He's right,” Joe interjected.
“Fine,” Zoe said, still unsure. It was her duty as a doctor to save every life possible, no matter who her patient was. Still, this man was a killer. He would have killed her if given the chance. If their positions were switched, he would have let her bleed out. She looked down at him, disgust flooding her. She grabbed the scalpel, raised it high…
And she got to work.
Zoe stood in her room, holding a skirt in each hand. She held one up over her body, shaking her head and tossing it onto her bed. She held up the other one. Better, she thought. She pulled it on, going into her master bathroom and making sure she looked okay. Satisfied, she walked downstairs, just as the doorbell rang. She ran over to the door, smoothing her skirt and looking at herself one last time in the mirror.
She opened the door, Russ waiting patiently outside. It was
bitterly cold and snow was on the forecast, but for now, the skies were clear. Sunlight ringed his body. She looked him over, realizing just how good he looked when he wasn't wearing oversized sweatpants and T shirts. Despite being a shifter, his nice slacks, black dress shoes, and nice suit jacket somehow fit his personality perfectly.
“You do look much better when you are wearing clothes that fit,” she teased, jumping into his arms. He held her tight, their lips meeting as he twirled her around. He let her down, both of them smiling.
“Ready, Doc?” he teased back. Zoe raised one finger at him and he laughed, and then she was laughing, shutting her front door and heading down to the driveway. Instead of his car sitting there, however, she saw her old beat up car.
“What?” was all she managed to say.
“I had some of the guys take a look at it. Fixed the windshield, the engine, even the seats I broke! It's better than new.”
Russ walked over to the driver's side door, holding it open for her. She eagerly hopped into the driver's seat and he closed the door after her. Once he was settled into the passenger seat, Zoe turned the key over in the ignition, feeling the car purr to life without her having to stomp on the gas a few times.
“Some of the guys said I should just buy you a new car altogether, but I know how much you love this old thing. For some reason.”
“Thank you! Thank you!” Zoe said, kissing Russ on the cheek. They drove off. Russ had actually agreed to a dinner at the nicest restaurant in the city. She was giddy with excitement. She couldn't wait to drive up to the front of the restaurant, valets confused at her beat up little car pulling up the driveway, before two doctors got out for dinner. She could see it now.
“So how is everyone doing?” she asked. After they'd saved the man who had attempted to kill them, Zoe had retreated to Russ's room to catch her breath. By the time she'd come out, the situation was over. The ambulances were gone. By chance, the injured had been taken to her hospital, but her boss had forced her to take a few days off and steer clear after learning of her involvement in the situation. She'd fought against him, wanting to get back to the hospital and finish what she'd started, but it had been pointless. Russ had been busy with Clan business and hadn't been able to see her, but had promised her the dinner she had so desired once things blew over.
“Everyone is going to be okay, thanks to you,” Russ said. “Every woman and shifter that you operated on is going to survive. Charles lost his leg, of course. Sev might not be able to talk again, but they're not sure yet. Beth and Derrick both are going to make a full recovery.”
“You saved Derrick,” she gently reminded him.
“If it wasn't for your speech, I don't think I would have been able to. I was able to because you believed in me. That's something no one has ever done before. My whole life… I've felt as if I was a failure. A fluke. I'm strong, but not as strong as the others. Big, but not big enough. But you've made me realize that it's okay to be me.”
The looks on the valets’ faces when her car rolled up to the front of the restaurant were everything that she was hoping for. They were shocked when two well-dressed people stepped out. One even managed to muster up the courage to ask if they had a reservation. One quickly led them inside when Zoe told him there was a reservation for Doctors Flynn and McGregor. She was laughing, and Russ was laughing as well.
Of course, the food was excellent, but Zoe was mostly focused on what Russ had to say. He really seemed like he was more laid back, happier than before. As they ate their expensive food, they talked about the future. The future together. Russ was adamant that he go to medical school, officially getting his medical degree. When Zoe had told him he knew more than most of the doctors at her hospital, he had smiled, a genuine smile. She hoped he would finally realize how skilled he truly was.
“Maybe I'll even leave the security service. Take a step back from the Clan,” he offered as they were leaving the restaurant, the chauffeurs scrambling to get her car. “I could do a lot of good in a hospital somewhere. Save a lot of lives. Really make a difference.”
“You already do a lot of good, Russ. You've saved more lives than you know. Just because you don't have your medical degree, doesn't mean you can't make a difference.”
“Yeah, but if I get my degree, I can come work with you every day. That's what you want, right?”
*
When they got back to her house after dinner, the scene was straight out of a movie. She'd been the one to push herself on Russ a couple of days ago, but now the tables had turned. They had barely reached her front porch before he was kissing her, his hands grabbing her body underneath her dress. She moved her lips against his, his tongue sliding deep into her mouth, pushing against her own. His hands grabbed her butt, lifting her up against her door. His lips danced over her own, over her neck, her ears, and the tops of her breasts.
She moaned in his ear, pulling his shirt out of his pants with one hand and fumbling with the door with the other. After a few seconds, the door opened inward and they tumbled through. Russ caught her deftly, making sure she didn't land hard. He kicked the door closed with one foot, lips going back to her chest. His hands moved down her legs, squeezing a thigh, sliding up underneath her skirt and pressing against her frilly panties. He pressed a finger against the soaked fabric and she arched her back, pushing herself into it.
Slowly, maddeningly, he teased her, walking his fingers up her legs, underneath her skirt, and hooking the sides of her panties with a finger on each side. Inch by slow inch, he peeled them off of her. When they were far enough down her legs, she kicked them off, losing sight of them as they soared over her couch. She kicked off her heels and wrapped her legs tightly around his crotch, pulling him close.
He grabbed one breast, squeezing, and she moaned. A finger trailed along the top of her shirt, dipping under it for just a split second, caressing one nipple. He used his other hand to undo one strap. Zoe eased her shoulder out from it, then eased the second out. With care that one wouldn't expect from a man his size, he pulled her shirt down over her body.
The shirt slid down over her breasts, catching for the slightest of moments on her rock hard nipples before exposing them completely. She saw his eyes go wide, his member under his slacks hardening. Next, her stomach and navel were uncovered. She held her breath as Russ moved her skirt over her hips and then she was completely naked, shrugging out of her skirt altogether.
Russ bent down, placing his lips directly between her thighs, kissing and sucking without any preamble. She moaned and wrapped her legs around his head tightly, feeling his tongue pushing deeper than she'd ever felt before. His lips wrapped around her clit, sucking it into his mouth, his tongue flicking against it. She squirmed in pleasure, breath coming faster and faster.
She felt pleasure building deep inside of her, a pinpoint of heat. She focused on it and it was overwhelming her immediately, building to a crescendo before she even realized how close she was to cumming. She felt her muscles tighten and she screamed in pleasure, cumming on Russ's face, his tongue lapping up her juices, his lips kissing exactly as needed. When her orgasm passed, she released her hold on his head.
Russ peeled off his jacket and shirt, tossing them onto the couch. He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks, undoing his pants until he was only in his underwear in front of her. The whole time, his eyes never left Zoe's pleasure wracked body. She looked at the bulge in his underwear, the front of them soaked in his precum.
Zoe sat up, looping her fingers in the waistband, so similar to what he'd done to her minutes ago. She pulled down, the band catching on his member, but she kept tugging. Down and down, until his cock finally sprung free, its massive length inches from her face. She grasped it in one hand, fingers unable to reach around his thickness. She stroked slowly, hearing him lean back and moan.
Zoe opened her lips wide, sliding his head between her lips. Her tongue found his slit, sucking up every drop of juices before pushing his length deeper into her mout
h. Her lips slid up and down, her tongue working his shaft, her hands moving wetly along the base of his hardness.
Bearly Apart (Big Paw Security Book 5) Page 16
