The words hit like a hammer.
“I did everything I could for her here,” he continues. “But I had no choice but to send her to the hospital. She needs blood. She just left in the ambulance. I’m heading there now.”
Shot…. Abigail was shot.
My head spins, and my knees give out. I catch myself against the wall before I hit the floor.
“Brother,” Patch says, grabbing my shoulder. “Look at me.”
I force my eyes up.
“She’s fine,” he says firmly. “The bullet went through her thigh. Clean shot. Didn’t hit anything major. She lost a lot of blood because I already had her on meds for the infection she’s fighting,” he explains. “Some of them thin the blood a bit. Made the bleeding worse than it should’ve been.”
My chest tightens.
“She’s going to be fine,” Patch continues. “But her body was already worn down fighting that infection. She needs fluids, blood, and a proper surgical team.”
He squeezes my shoulder once.
“I signed in as her attending physician. I’m heading there now. Take a deep breath… and follow me.”
“You hate working at the hospital,” I mutter, trying to force air back into my lungs.
Patch snorts.
“True,” he says with a tired chuckle. “Worst place a doctor can work, in my opinion. Too many rules. Too many administrators. Too damn monotonous.”
He turns and heads toward the exit, and I follow him blindly.
“I much prefer being my own boss.”
We burst out of the bunker and into the night air.
The same SUV we arrived in is still waiting.
Patch climbs into the back seat and gestures for me to get in.
“I’m actually thinking about opening my own clinic,” he says as we pile inside.
He slams the door.
“Hospital,” he tells the driver. “Quickly.”
The engine roars to life, but I barely notice.
“I’ll have to hire staff,” Patch continues casually, like my entire world isn’t currently hanging by a thread. “Might ask Maverick if anyone staying at his estate has medical experience before I place an ad.”
He glances at me.
“I’d rather my staff be people from the estate or our club,” he says. “That way they won’t panic every time one of you idiots walks in covered in blood and smiling like a lunatic.”
I stare straight ahead, fists clenched.
Because right now the only thing keeping me together is Patch’s unusual rambling.
It takes fifteen minutes to make the trip to the hospital, and every second of it feels like an hour. When we finally pull into the emergency entrance, it takes every ounce of self-control I have not to jump out and start tearing through the building looking for her.
But I force myself to stay half a step behind Patch.
