by West, Naomi
She gulped and took a step to the side to see around the bike. Lying on the ground behind the bike, in a pool of shadow and blood, was Saxton.
“Saxton!” She rushed over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.
He made a murmuring sound, but didn’t open his eyes.
“Oh, my God, Saxton, what happened?” She looked him over and saw the huge blood spot on his shirt. He must’ve been stabbed or shot. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
He didn’t move. He was breathing, she could see that. Her first instinct was to call an ambulance. But she knew, again because of her criminal brother, that that could mean trouble. An ambulance would come to the area, would know where he’d been when he was hurt. And she didn’t know if he had weapons or drugs or wads of cash on him. And besides, if he had no real job, he probably had no insurance, and that could mean a huge bill. He might not care about that, but she didn’t want to do anything that would cause him to lose more money.
She knelt down and wedged herself under his shoulder. She straightened her legs, and with great effort, managed to raise him to his feet. He grunted and tried to straighten his legs. She took a few steps, grateful that in this part of the city, no one would think it was strange that she was carrying a bloody man to her car.
She stumbled. He was heavy and she wasn’t that strong. He tried to help, tried to walk, but was barely conscious. She got him to the side of her car after what felt like the slowest walk in history. Her heart was racing with urgency. She had to see how bad it was and figure out what to do with him.
She fumbled in her pocket with one hand to get her keys out and opened the door. She tried to be careful, but ended up sort of dropping him into the backseat of her car. He groaned in pain.
“Sorry, sorry,” she said.
She dug her hand in his pockets and pulled out some cash, a few crumpled receipts. At his back was a gun, and when she patted him down, she found his knife. When she felt satisfied she’d gotten everything off him that could get him in trouble, she tucked the items far under her seat. Then she carefully lifted his shirt to see the wound.
A gaping hole poured blood out of his stomach. It looked really bad and all she knew to do was put pressure on it. She usually had a few sweatshirts in her car for either her or Ian. One of them wold leave it there when the day turned warm, or it’d be put there in case the temperature dropped, then end up not being needed and was forgotten.
She picked up one of her sweatshirts and pressed it to his stomach. He moaned again and made a gurgling sound. That seemed bad. She had no choice. She had to get him to a hospital or he’d die. It was a risk, but she had to take it. At least she’d made it better by getting his weapons and things off him.
She wiped his blood from her hands and dashed to the driver’s seat. She jumped in and took off, almost hitting a car in her haste to pull out into traffic. The guy honked and gave her the finger, but she didn’t care. Where was the closest hospital?
She made a few turns and breathed out in relief when she saw the blue H sign pointing to the hospital. She pulled up to bright red ER sign and ran inside to find someone.
A nurse sat behind a desk and looked up at her when she approached. “I have someone in my car. I think he was shot or stabbed, I don’t know, but he’s bleeding badly.”
The nurse picked up a phone to call someone, then stood. “Is he conscious?”
Sara shook her head and the nurse followed her back out to her car. Behind them, two more nurses pushed a stretcher. They wheeled it up to her car and together, lifted Saxton out of the seat and onto it, then pushed him back inside.
She watched in horror as they took him through the doors. The nurse who had followed her out said, “Go ahead and park your car. I’ll take you to him when you get inside.”
Sara nodded. She turned to close her door and saw the huge stain of blood on her backseat. She covered her mouth with her hand and had to blink tears away to see to get the car into a spot. By the time she walked back into the ER, tears ran down her cheeks. What if he died? What if she never got to repay him for what he’d done? She should have slept with him after all. It might have been his last time ever.
The nurse took her to a trauma waiting area. “You can’t go in just yet. They’re working on him, but as soon as you can see him, they’ll come get you.”
Sara nodded and slumped into one of the seats. As she waited, her mind ran wild with worries. Somewhere in the middle of it, she remembered that Ian needed to be picked up.
With a shaking hand, she called Patty.
“I—I—” She could barely speak through her tears.
“What’s wrong?” Patty asked. “Did something happen to Ian?”
“No. Can you—”
“Do you need me to pick him up?”
“Yes.” She breathed out heavily. Thank God for Patty. She swallowed and managed a few words. “I’m at the hospital with a friend. It’s bad.”
“Okay, dear, don’t you worry. I’ll get him. Don’t you forget to call work, now.”
“Thanks.”
She hung up. She’d forgotten all about work. Patty was more like a mother than a neighbor. She wouldn’t be able to do life without that woman.
When she called her second job, Jessica answered.
Sara had calmed a bit now and could at least get out a few words between sobs. “Jul, I can’t come in.”
“Oh my God, are you okay? What happened? Was this because of last night?”
“Sort of. But not what you think. It was fine. But the guy. He—” How could she even describe what was happening? “He was shot.”
“Whoa. Did you shoot him?”
“No! I found him, though.”
“Are you safe?” she asked. “Like, is someone coming after you next?”
“No. But I can’t come in tonight. Can you tell whichever manager is on?”
“Of course,” Jessica said. “But I want full details of everything.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
Sara hung up the phone and looked at the door to the room where Saxton was. There seemed to be a lot of commotion from what she could see from her glimpse of the window in the door. She wished someone would come out and tell her something.
It felt like she sat there for hours. But she kept checking her phone. Partially to keep track of real time, and partially in case Carter called or Patty needed something. Forty-five minutes after they’d taken him in, a nurse came out.
“Are you the one who brought in the stabbing victim?” he asked.
“Saxton? Yes. Was he stabbed?”
The man nodded. “We’ve got him stabilized and his bleeding is under control. No major organs were damaged, so he should make a full recovery. He should wake up soon and we’ll get him to a room shortly.”
“Thank you.” She wanted to hug this man for saving him.
“You can go ahead in.”
She stood up shakily and walked into the room. Saxton was still passed out, but was now covered with white hospital blankets. A beeping machine kept track of his pulse and it looked like he had an IV of some clear fluid going into him. She saw no hint of blood, which was good. Her stomach couldn’t handle more of that today.
She sat in the chair beside the bed. After a minute, she reached over and took his hand. He felt warm and clammy, and she took that as a good sign.
Chapter Ten
The first thing Saxton noticed was the beeping. Slowly, he realized what was happening. The stench meant hospital. The beeping, some sort of machine. And the pain. Oh right.
It came back to him in a flash. A man with a gun, a man with a knife. A warning to stop asking questions, then the sharp pain, the sucking sound, and falling to his knees. Who had found him? Who had brought him here? Where was his gun?
He opened his eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning.
“Saxton?”
He tried to place the voice. It sounded familiar, but his brain didn’t place it immediately. He turned his
head and saw Sara sitting by his side, her face flooded in relief.
“Sara?”
“Hi. How are you?”
“I don’t know. Alive, I guess.” He felt his stomach and the pile of bandages. He must be on strong pain meds. His head felt light and hot and his stomach ached. “What are you doing here?”
“I found you. I saw your bike and I got out to find you and you were there, just lying on the ground in a puddle of blood.”
“You found me?”
She nodded.
“Why were you in that part of the city?”
“I work near there. I was going home to get Ian from school and change for my next job.”
He pulled his eyes together. “Not a safe area.”
She shrugged. “It’s a decent-paying job. And I take a knife.”
He raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t the type he’d expect that from. But then, after all that happened in the last day, he clearly did not know her at all.
“They said you were stabbed.”
Saxton nodded. “Assholes.”
“Who stabbed you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did they?”
“Ah, you know. These things happen.”
“Right,” she said. “In your ‘business’ this sort of thing is normal, I guess.”
“It is.”
“Are they going to come after you again? Are you safe?”
“Maybe. Guess it depends on what I do now. If I do what they say, or if I do what I need to do.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s better if you don’t know. Trust me.” He closed his eyes for a moment. One thing he was certain of. He was getting closer to an answer. Closer to finding Liam’s killer. The Cruel Crows. He had to find out everything he could about them. This was the best lead he’d had in a long time. And he had Sara to thank. If she hadn’t told him about Darien, bringing his knife obsession back to his mind, Saxton wouldn’t have been in the areas he was in, talking to the people he talked to.
Darien wasn’t involved. That seemed absolute. But he’d helped, too, in his own way. Maybe Saxton would send a fruit basket over to his headquarters to thank him. He almost laughed at that, but stopped himself. It would hurt too much.
“Why did you stay?” he asked.
“I wanted to make sure you were okay. Seems that the guys who did this don’t know what they’re doing. They missed all your major organs. Either they’re idiots, they didn’t actually want you dead, or you’re the luckiest guy on earth.”
If Sara was here with him, here to make sure he was okay, then maybe he was lucky. “They’re idiots.” Maybe. It had been a warning, so maybe they didn’t intend to kill him. They’d sure left him for dead in a dark, abandoned alley, though.
“Are you sure you’re safe? They said they can have the cops come and—”
“Are you nuts?”
“Well, no, I didn’t think you’d want that and that’s why I told them not to call, but I didn’t know the story. I still don’t. I just wanted you to know it was an option.” She made a pouty face at him. “I’m not stupid. My brother gets himself into trouble all the time like you do. That’s why I got your gun, knife, and money out of your pockets before I brought you in.”
“You did?”
She nodded. She was smart then. “And you didn’t call an ambulance?”
“Right. Because then they’d know where it happened.”
His eyebrows raised a little. She knew how it worked. She thought fast under pressure and acted smart. She impressed him more and more every day.
“Thank you,” he said. “For all of it.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
Even if she had done everything right, he was still here. For a stab wound, the cops would surely come around whether he wanted their protection or not. So he had to get out of there. Now. He had no viable excuse to give them.
There wasn’t much pain and if he was all stitched up, he should be fine to leave. He’d take care of the wound, get some antibiotics—on the black market if he had to—and he’d just go home to recover, away from the cops.
“Did you give them my personal info?”
“I didn’t have it to give,” she said. “And since your wallet is in my car, they weren’t able to get it.”
“You’re a lifesaver.”
She smiled a little. “Like I said, it’s the least I can do.”
“You don’t owe me anything. I am grateful, though.”
He pushed himself up with one arm and got into a seated position.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“I have to get out of here.”
“You can’t leave yet. You’re not ready for that.”
“I’ll be fine.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and tried to push off from the bed. His arms shook and he broke out into a sweat. He could probably slide down to the floor, but he was afraid his legs wouldn’t hold him. After trying again, he collapsed back onto the bed, and moved his legs back into place.
“Told you,” she said.
“I need to get out of here.”
“You can stay a day or two at least. Why do you need to go so badly?”
“So the cops don’t show up asking questions.”
“They won’t.” She sounded perfectly confidant.
“They always come for an injury like this.”
“Yeah, I know. They were here and I told them what happened.”
“You what?” So much for thinking she was smart.
“I told them how we got into a fight and I was too emotional because I found out you were cheating and I tried to cut off your balls, but I missed.”
He blinked at her. “What?”
She let out an exasperated breath. “They don’t bother investigating domestic disputes if both parties are present. They were satisfied that since I brought you in, I wasn’t going to hurt you again, and I assured them that I did not want you dead, I just wanted you to not be able to cheat on me. But if you want them to come, to go after whoever really did this, we can call them back.”
He stared blankly at her, letting her words sink in. She had made up this elaborate story and put herself at risk, just to cover his ass and make sure the cops didn’t come back around to question him? He might be falling in love.
“Damn, girl.” He closed his eyes. “You’re a fucking angel.”
“So are you. And I didn’t want to do anything that got you into trouble.”
“Well, you sure did a good job.”
“So, does that mean you’ll stop trying to leave the hospital before you’re ready?”
“Maybe.”
Sara stayed with him that day. Stayed when they took him upstairs to another room, and even after he started drifting off. It wasn’t until later that night that she said she had to get home to her son.
“Thanks for all you did,” he said.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I know.” She winked at him. “I want to make sure you’re okay and no one comes and attacks you in the night.”
“I’ll be fine.” But his heart warmed at her concern.
Saxton had a rule when it came to women. Fuck them and forget them. Don’t let them get close, don’t let them in your brain or your heart, and don’t even let them in your house if can avoid it. But with Sara, it was too late. She’d been in his house, of course. He hadn’t had much choice there. But from the moment he’d seen her on that stage, looking scared out of her mind, she started to get into his heart. After their few conversations, and now all of this, she was getting into his head, too.
This was no good. She wasn’t right for him, and he was so wrong for her. She might know about this life, be proxy to it because of her brother, but she didn’t belong here. Not with bikers, not with criminals. She had a child to think about. Worked two jobs to send him to a good school. And she couldn’t even make herself sleep with someone
for eight thousand bucks. She was out of his league. She was far too good for him.
Yet, here she was, saying goodbye and looking sad to go. Saying she’d be back tomorrow. How was this possible? She couldn’t be starting to have feelings for him, too, could she? She had called him her savior. Maybe she was the type who liked to be rescued. The victim who wanted to be saved, the damsel in distress.
