by Gemma Hart
LOVE HER
A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance
Gemma Hart
Copyright 2016 Gemma Hart
All Right Reserved
This work is not bound by DRM, which allows you as a reader to enjoy this story on any digital platform you choose to use. But please respect the work of this author. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any similarities to events or situations is also coincidental.
© 2016 Gemma Hart
All Rights Reserved
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Find out how Julian and Cora’s journey began!
FIND HER
PROTECT HER
Table of Content
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
More Stories
One
Oh god, please. Oh god, please. Oh god, please. Ohgodpleaseohgodpleaseohgodplease.
Julian clutched Cora’s limp body to him as he ran out of the car towards the gray and dimly lit hospital. He had hardly been able to drive straight knowing Cora was sprawled in he backseat, bleeding profusely. Her heart-shaped face that could convey sympathy, love, bravery with extraordinary honesty was quickly turning an ashen gray that made Julian’s stomach turn with fear.
The small square shaped hospital was the only medical building for miles and although Julian wanted nothing more than the absolute best care for Cora, at the moment, all he had was this square building.
He ran into the lobby, vaguely aware of Gloria limping behind him. She had thrown herself into his SUV just as he was wheeling away with Cora. He hardly had thought to bring her with him or even care if she had come along. But come along she had.
“Señor! Señor!” a small nurse called out from behind him.
Julian whipped around and saw the nurse running towards him. Her body immediately straightened when she caught sight of his chest soaked in blood and the limp girl in his arms. But no panicked alarm took over. This was a nurse who was used to seeing such blatant and gruesome violence on a regular basis.
“Please help! Help her!” Julian cried out, his deep voice reverberating against the dimly lit walls. So berserk with worry and adrenaline, he could hardly remember how to ask for help in Spanish.
But the nurse clearly understood how dire the situation was. She turned her head down one hallway and called out for a gurney. Brushing back Cora’s short hair, matted down by the blood pouring from the side of her head, the nurse revealed the girl’s pale gray face. Blue veins stood out clearly against her translucent skin, the massive blood loss already having pulled out most of her color and life.
The gurney arrived but Julian couldn’t take his eyes off the nurse.
Her eyes were steady but her hand immediately went to the rosary tucked underneath her green scrubs. “Vaya con Dios,” she whispered.
Go with God.
Julian felt the hospital echo with the sound of his heartbreak.
“She’s so young,” Gloria said quietly, almost to herself. “They always say when you have youth on your side, you can survive anything.”
Julian could hardly hear her.
He sat on the small grated metal bench, chin pressed against his fists, as he leaned forward on his knees. Cora had immediately been whisked away into the OR.
After having held Cora so closely to him, his arms felt light and empty. He had instinctively followed the gurney but had been stopped outside the swinging doors of the operating room.
The small nurse had firmly sat him down on the single bench that lined the hallway, her dark eyes warm with sympathy and pity. It was clear she had no expectations for survival. If Julian didn’t feel so numb, he would feel rage towards her quick acceptance for Cora’s fate.
Gloria had quietly dropped to the bench, a look of stunned surprise on her blood-splattered face.
Instead of raging or arguing his insistence of Cora’s chances for survival, Julian sat on the bench.
And he prayed.
Two
“I love you.”
Julian had watched almost in slow motion as Cora’s lips had formed the words he had waited so long for her to say. But this wasn’t how he had wanted her to say it. He had wanted her to say those words as an oath, as a promise for a lifetime of togetherness.
Instead she was saying it now as goodbye.
Julian felt the muscles in his neck clench. Like hell it’ll be.
He saw the change of light in Carlos’s eyes. He had to act first before he could let this piece of shit press his advantage. Because advantage he certainly had. With his gun pressed hard against Cora’s temple, there was no way she could survive such a shot.
Aiming carefully at right above his elbow, Julian pulled the trigger, letting loose all his hopes with the flying bullet.
As he had hoped, the shot had surprised Carlos, who had been expecting a more fatal shot. He had cried out in anger as the angle of Julian’s bullet had jerked his arm, pulling the barrel away from Cora.
But the drug lord had more control over his body than Julian had given him credit for. Before his arm had collapsed uselessly to his side, he had squeezed his trigger.
Initially, it looked like the bullet had just barely missed Cora. She had even cried out in warning, “Julian!”
But he didn’t need any warning for his safety. As she fell forward, all Julian could think was: this was his chance! Carlos’s body was completely open. And with his right arm hanging uselessly by his side with blood flowing freely, Julian knew he’d never have a better shot.
With absolutely no hesitation or regret, Julian fired two sure shots into Carlos’s chest. Before the man hit the ground, Julian knew he was dead.
And good fucking riddance, you hateful fucker.
Julian let loose the breath that he had been holding.
She was free. Cora would never have to be afraid of the looming shadows of her past. Carlos was the only thing that had kept her from moving forward and now he was a dead pile on the floor with no power over her future.
But all the air soon evaporated from his lungs when he looked down and caught sight of Cora.
Blood was pooling into a black halo around her head while her body lay limp on the dirty shack floor.
Cora hadn’t called out his name in warning. She had called out to him in need.
Gloria screamed.
“Land it wherever. I don’t give a fuck!” Julian snapped into his cellphone.
He looked out the window of the hospital hallway. Cora had made it out of surgery an hour ago and now Julian had to act fast. He wanted to get her to a bigger hospital with more resources to care for her. The problem was the area he was in was too rural even for pick up.
The helicopter pilot had said he would arrive in about twenty more minutes. But there was no designated helipad in such a small remote hospital and the pilot wasn’t sure if the building was structurally sound enough to land on.
Julian had sighed in frustrated anger. There was plenty of open space even in the middle of the road and even right in front of the tiny hospital. And as far as Julian was concerned, he could care less where the helicopter landed just so long as it landed and landed fast.
; The hospital in Maraño, the nearest sizeable city, was standing at ready for their arrival. Tapping the phone against his thigh, he quickly decided against calling the other hospital in Mexico City he had been in contact with. It was too far and he wasn’t sure Cora could make it.
After another frustrated sigh of helplessness, Julian quickly strode back into the tiny hospital room.
Cora looked so small in the simple yet clean hospital bed.
Her face looked even smaller with the turban of bandages wrapped around her head. Seeing her still form and the steady light beep of the heart monitor made all of Julian’s muscles tighten and loosen at the same time.
He felt helpless yet also frustrated and angry. He wanted to bound out of the hospital and run to Maraño with Cora in his arms. But he also wanted to slide into the bed, hold this delicate woman near him, and just feel her body’s warmth against his.
Sitting in the only chair in the room, Julian scooted closer to the bed. He had literally been traveling nonstop since he had discovered Cora’s disappearance. Once arriving in Mexico, it had been an easy matter of picking up a gun but a much more difficult matter of finding a driver brave enough to take him where he needed to go.
And all the while, Julian’s heart had been pounding a steady rhythm against his ribs. He worried that he would be too late.
God, let her be alright. Let her be alright, Julian had chanted throughout the journey. Images of her short bob and flashing smile would flitter in and out of his mind. Just you wait, little girl, Julian would grit his teeth. You are under my protection now. No more running off for you.
Gently, Julian took Cora’s limp hand. Although she was warmer than she had been back in the shack, her fingertips still felt cool to the touch. Her pulse was slow and thready. Knowing how close he had been to losing her, knowing how close he was to losing her, Julian lost his restraint.
He gripped her hand tightly as he pressed his forehead against their clasped palms. “Don’t you dare leave me,” he whispered fiercely. He thought about how sweet she had tasted in Paris. He remembered her gentle yet passionate touch. “I’ve been looking for you my whole life, Cora. You don’t get to leave me now.”
The bullet had come in at an angle. It had caused a flesh wound which had bled profusely. The impact of the bullet had fractured her skull and had caused some swelling in the brain. Even though Julian’s Spanish wasn’t perfect, he knew coma translated across both English and Spanish and his heart clenched to hear the word.
He held her hand tighter than he knew he should. Julian felt like if he held her tightly enough, he could somehow infuse his own strength into her. But no matter how tightly or for how long he held her hand, her fingertips remained cold and her pulse slow. Julian could smell the tang of her dried blood on his shirt.
He didn’t know how long he had been sitting there when a small hand gently tapped his shoulder. He jerked awake and saw the small nurse standing behind him.
“The helicopter is here,” she said.
Julian nodded quickly, trying to gather his wits. When had he last slept? It had to have been over 48 hours ago. Letting go of Cora’s hand, Julian made space for the nurses to strap Cora into a gurney so she could be airlifted to Maraño.
Once Cora was secured, the team gently but quickly moved out of the room and out into the street where a small helicopter was waiting. Julian began to follow them out of the room when he turned back around to catch sight of the nurse.
He expected, perhaps hoped, the nurse would give him an encouraging smile and nod her hopefulness for Cora’s recovery. After all, even though Cora had just lost a shit ton of blood and had had her head scraped open, she was still alive and breathing, wasn’t she?
But instead he saw the nurse pull again at her rosary. Her dark eyes were understanding and sympathetic. But not hopeful.
As Julian turned away, he could hear the soft clicking of the rosary beads follow him out.
Three
Knock knock!
Gloria’s head shot up at the sound.
Sitting up in her bed, she was covered in bandages. Although Cora’s status was much more dire, one would think the opposite when looking between the two women. Only Cora’s head was swathed in bandages while Gloria’s leg was strapped to some kind of splint, her wrists bandaged, her face greasy with salves the nurses had smeared on to heal the small cuts and bruises she was covered in.
But the woman’s eyes were bright and alert. She was very much aware of the precarious situation she was in.
Lowering his hand from the door, Julian walked in without waiting for an invitation.
Gloria’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of the man who had rescued her and her daughter. That night in the shack had all been such a blur, she hardly had enough sanity to recognize Julian for a man, let alone this kind of man.
Standing at well over six feet tall, he clearly had a commanding presence. His broad physique and large hands spoke of an undeniable strength. But it was the rough stubble and steely eyes that made Gloria’s heart skip a terrified beat.
He looked like raw rage incarnate. There was something primal in the man that made him seem more dangerous than Carlos could ever have been. It was hard to believe this man had ever been her stepson.
“Gloria.” Julian’s deep voice held no sympathy or warmth.
“Julian,” Gloria said after a moment’s hesitation. “Would you like to sit down?” she asked, motioning towards the two chairs next to her bed.
Maraño had a much bigger hospital and had much more equipped facilities. But they were no strangers to violence. After taking in the bloody sight of Julian, Gloria, and Cora, they immediately went to work. Cora was whisked away to an intensive care unit for special monitoring while Gloria was taken into another wing to be examined.
A nurse tried to pull Julian into another room to attend to what she had assumed was a grave injury of his, considering the amount of blood on his shirt. But Julian had resisted and instead had stood right outside the ICU with his cell phone in hand. He needed to make some calls but he would make them where he could hear a nurse call for him in case Cora took a turn for the worse.
Gloria saw that Julian had somehow gotten a clean shirt but he obviously hadn’t had a chance to shower. Flecks of blood still painted Julian’s neck.
“No,” Julian said, not even glancing down at the offered chairs. “I won’t be here long.”
Gloria looked at him assessingly. At one time, she had been the only mother he had. Would he turn someone like that over to the police? After all, she had been consorting with a notorious drug lord for over a decade, even running deliveries for him. That kind of illicit behavior could land Gloria in a Mexican prison for life.
She knew she had to play her cards carefully.
“You’ve certainly grown up, haven’t you?” she said in what she hoped was a motherly tone.
But instead of softening him, Julian’s eyes only blazed hotter. He didn’t ask how she knew who he was. Gloria literally gulped as she felt herself pinned by his gaze.
“I’m here to tell you that this is it, Gloria,” Julian said, his voice hard as steel and sharp as a razor blade. “You are no longer allowed to have any kind of contact with Cora from here on out. Until she decides to see or talk to you, you are to remain far away from her.”
Gloria bit her lip and gave him a quick mousy look that made Julian think of a rat trying to find his way out of a sinking ship.
“That’s not really for you to decide, isn’t it?” she said. “You can’t separate a mother from her daughter.”
Julian snorted. “A mother and daughter, huh?” he echoed.
He gave a quick look around the room to make sure it was just the two of them before leaning in and saying, “It was you who told Vilas it was Cora who was taking those ‘stolen’ drugs and selling them in the US, wasn’t it? Needed a fucking scapegoat and when you couldn’t find a good one, you sold out your own fucking daughter, didn’t you?”
&nb
sp; Gloria gave him a look of feigned motherly indignation. But under Julian’s cold stare, the façade melted and her true annoyance and calculating face revealed itself.
“I really had been robbed,” she said with a huff of irritation at her failed plan of wooing Julian with some motherly distress. “But Carlos was just too crazy at that point to listen. Too many knew about his breakdown and his paranoia and were taking advantage of it by robbing his deliveries mid-route.”
Julian could hardly stand to look at the woman. Did she feel no empathy for the fact that her daughter had taken a bullet to the head and was now in ICU fighting for her life all so that Gloria could get another chance at her life?
