Page 7 of Ice

“Sir—” one of the paramedics began, but he was interrupted by Blade.

“She’s fine, Danson. Leave it alone.”

No one said another word as they took me to a private room and transferred me onto the bed.

Blade paused just inside the room and withdrew his phone from the pocket of his long white lab coat. “Wolf,” he grunted at me as he swiped his finger over the screen. His eyes darted to Marnie as he put the phone to his ear, then he pivoted and strolled out into the hallway.

A nurse took my vitals, and just as she was finishing up, Blade stepped back into the room.

He waited for the staff to leave, assuring them he would make sure I changed into a hospital gown and was given an IV. Then he smiled at my angel. “Marnie, right?”

She nodded with a slight curve to her lips.

“I’m sure you and Ice are probably hungry.”

Marnie’s stomach chose that moment to growl, and she blushed adorably. “Um, yeah. I didn’t eat during my shift and then the accident…”

“Mind running down to the cafeteria and grabbing some food?” Blade asked her.

“Sure.”

I wanted to protest, but if Wolf had information about the accident, I wanted to hear it before Marnie found out. And if it was club business, she’d need to be out of earshot anyway.

“Come right back to me,” I ordered her gruffly, digging in my pocket to give her some cash.

She gave my hand a gentle squeeze, then let go and walked to the door. My eyes were glued to her swinging hips and curvy ass until she disappeared into the hallway.

“I take it Sheila needs to get working on another vest,” Blade drawled as he grabbed a hospital gown from a cupboard near the head of the bed.

“Damn straight,” I muttered. My face twisted with disgust when he held out the folded clothing. “I’m fine. Not gonna put on one of those stupid things. Do whatever and let me get back to the clubhouse.”

Blade rolled his eyes and shook the garment in front of me. “According to Marnie, you hit your head pretty fucking hard, Ice. You’ve got scrapes and bruises and a few cuts that need stitches. Not going home until I’ve treated everything and determined that you don’t have a concussion.”

“You can do all that shit without making me wear a fucking nightgown. Now, what did Wolf have to say?” I asked, changing the subject.

Blade sighed and tossed the garment on the end of the bed. “Fine. I won’t keep you overnight, but your ass is staying in bed tomorrow.”

I opened my mouth but shut it when he scowled and pointed a finger at me.

“Or you can stay here tonight and tomorrow.”

“Asshole,” I grumbled.

He shrugged unrepentantly, then walked to a cabinet across the room and opened it, fishing for supplies as he filled me in.

“Brake line was cut.”

I frowned. “Wolf did a full maintenance on my bike last week.”

“That’s what he said. This wasn't an accident. Besides that, the line was sliced just enough that it wouldn’t fail at first, which is why you were able to get as far as you did without noticing.”

“Shit,” I muttered, scrubbing my hand over my face and wincing when my bent arm tugged on some raw skin.

“Fox and Mav are looking into options for anyone who might be targeting you to get to the club, but they don’t think that’s gonna pan out.”

Fox was the club president, and Maverick was our vice president. If this was related to club business, they’d figure it out quicker than anyone else.

“Only other person I can think might be behind this is Keith Franks,” I mused, my brow furrowing low. “Assumed he was too much of a pussy to take things this far, but maybe I was wrong.”

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