“Location?”
“Your brother’s hotel,” he said. “Room eight fourteen.”
I looked at the phone, shook my head, and dropped it on the table. I hated that nigga and the fact that after all this time, I was still working for him. Taking Pyrite’s advice and waiting to kill all the Kilmores was the second dumbest thing I ever did. The first was letting Yale drive that night, which put us in this situation.
“Sunshine?” I called out. She lifted her head slightly but kept floating. “I gotta run to the hospital right fast. There was a call, and I’m the closest doctor.”
“Okay,” she said. “Be safe.”
“Always,” I replied.
“Love you.”
“Love you more,” I said, then walked into the house. I hated lying to her, but I knew it was the only thing I could do at the moment.
An hour later, I was walking into Stone Hotel. I showered, making sure to wash my hair thoroughly before getting out, andthen threw on some sweats, a t-shirt, tall socks, and a pair of Nikes before leaving.
“Hey, Mr. Stone,” the night hostess, Carmen, said, greeting me. I threw her a wave but kept my stride. I didn’t need to talk to her because, more than likely, she thought I was here on business. Whenever Citrine was out of town, I was the one who stepped in, so it wasn’t uncommon for me to be at one of his hotels. I took the elevator up to the eighth floor and then walked to the room Luther had told me he was in. I knocked twice then stepped back.
“I told you ten minutes,” Luther said after he opened the door.
“Okay,” I said, stepping forward. He moved to the side, and I stepped in. The first thing I noticed was how fucked up the room was. Whoever was responsible for this was going to come out of pocket, and that was if Citrine didn’t show the fuck out first. “The fuck happened here?”
“Not your business,” Luther said, shaking his head. “Why you’re here is over there on the couch.”
I turned my attention to the couch and shook my head. “The fuck happened to her?” I asked as I looked at the very pregnant woman with black eyes and a busted lip. Her eyes shot daggers at the closed bedroom door. She looked familiar, but I didn’t know where I’d seen her before.
“Just check her out,” Luther said. “That’s why you’re here, to check her out.”
“I’m not an OB,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t help you.”
“Shelly, stand up and show the doctor your back,” Luther said to the woman. She finally took her eyes off the door, nodded, stood, and turned around. Her shirt was covered with blood, and when she lifted her shirt, I saw why. She’d been cut up, but to my surprise, she wasn’t even acting as if it had phased her.
I approached her, looked at her wounds, and kissed my teeth. Whoever did this to her was fucked up; this shit had to hurt. Ipulled the gloves I’d grabbed out of my truck before coming up here and put them on. “Ay, I gotta touch your back so I can make sure they aren’t too deep.”
“It’s fine,” Shelly said, then gave me a singular nod.
I examined her back, and each time I touched her skin, I expected her to show any discomfort, but she never did. Instead, she stood there, face blank, looking ahead.
“This shit is going to hurt,” I said, stepping back. “She’s going to need at least a hundred stitches.”
“Get to work then,” Luther said, nodding. He sat on the coffee table and watched us. “She’ll stand there the entire time.”
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “This shit is going to be painful. She’s going to need some pain meds.”
“Give her some, then,” Quention shrugged. “You’re the doctor.”
“She’s what, six months pregnant?” I said, looking at Shelly’s stomach. “She needs to get checked out.”
“You just did that,” he said, shaking his head. “Stitch her ass up so you can leave.”
I turned to Shelly, ignoring Luther. “You need to be checked out,” I said to her, but she didn’t look at me. “Your baby.”
“I don’t care about the baby,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s for him and his wife anyway.”
I looked over at Luther, and he smirked. “Not me, Stone. I’m done with kids.”
“Then who?” I couldn’t help but ask.
