Page 60 of I Can't Even

“I think you stole my money, bitch. The last time I was in here!” an angry male voice said.

“I didn’t take anything,” she snarled. “Let. Me. Go!”

I ripped back the curtain to see a large guy backing Ellodie farther and farther into the corner of the room, his hand so tight around her wrist she was losing color in her hand.

Without even thinking, I reached forward and whirled the teen around, had him on the ground, his hands cuffed behind his back in seconds.

He was kicking and cursing, pissed as hell.

“Get off me, pig!” he snarled.

“You’re under arrest for the assault of a medical professional,” I said with barely controlled anger. “You have the right to remain silent…”

Ellodie watched on with wide eyes.

A couple more uniformed officers showed, and I handed the kid off—and he was just a kid. All of eighteen at most—to the first officer to come my way and said, “Take him in, Assman.”

“Will do,” Assman promised. “More are on their way.”

Luckily, with the uptick of police presence, the gang bangers disbursed, leaving their buddies behind.

I waited until it was completely cleared out and calm again before I turned to my woman who’d gone back to work in the interim.

She was sitting at the nurses’ station, writing something on a piece of paper.

There was a doctor at her side, speaking to her in low words.

“Baby,” I said when I walked up to her. “Do you get lunch?”

The doctor and her both looked up. “Actually, that was what we were just doing. Writing a lunch order. Would you like anything?”

“I don’t have all that much time left on mine. Do you want to grab something from the cafeteria?” I asked, hopeful.

She smiled, marked something out on the paper, and then handed it back to the doctor.

He was around five-foot-ten and a hundred and ninety pounds. His hair was blond, and so perfectly styled that I wondered if it ever fell out of place.

I’d also seen him before.

At the gas station a couple of weeks ago.

Ellodie must’ve seen me looking because she said, “Quaid, this is Dr. Brewn. He’s the favored ER doc. Dr. Brewn, this is my…”

When she hesitated, I filled in the blank for her. “Man. I’m her man. Quaid Carter.”

“Nice to meet you,” he didn’t offer his hand. “Have a good lunch.”

Then he was gone, going to the next nurse and handing her the paper Ellodie had been putting her order on.

Ellodie caught my arm and wrapped herself around it, leaning into me slightly. “I’m glad you came.”

I looked down at her as she led the way to the cafeteria two floors up.

“How often does that happen?” I said through gritted teeth.

And why the fuck did knowing she faced danger while working scare the holy hell out of me?

No wonder they wanted armed security guards.

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