Page 35 of Savage Heart

The Den was one of his most lucrative businesses; a casino on the surface, with a few illegal games going on behind the veil of legality. If the nurse was in their debt, it meant she was playing the illegal games. Danil heaved an impatient sigh. “So—what the fuck did she say?”

Oleg replied, “Dr. Simpson is under club protection. She’s their medical support, or some shit—but that’s not the best part. The kid, she’s the daughter of the VP. Seems like the good doc got knocked up ten years ago, and has been keeping the kid a secret.”

Danil let the news sink in, and when it did—“Fuck!”

So, Dr. Simpson liked bad boys, and she found herself a single parent to the VP’s brat.

Shaking his head, Danil growled, “Where’s the kid now?”

“Last the nurse heard, the kid is with the club.”

Dammit. It was a complication he hadn’t planned on, but that didn’t mean his plans were unattainable—it just meant he had to get a little creative.

“We going after the kid?” Oleg asked, his shit brown eyes glinting with excitement. The fuck had a thing for kidnapping and mayhem, and Danil had used the man’s skills in that milieu frequently. This time, however, Danil needed a subtle hand.

“Let’s see where the doctor ends up first. In the meantime, keep looking for Dr. Pace. He stole from us, and no one steals from the Medevs and fucking lives.”

And Leonid would use Danil’s failure to keep Dr. Pace in line as a strike against him. The last thing he needed was to beused as an example to the other brigadiers—the fuckers were all looking for a piece of Danil’s future empire.

An empire he would wrest from Leonid’s cold, dead hands soon enough.

Leaning back in his chair, his gaze flicked to Oleg, who was still standing in the doorway, his beady eyes pinned to Danil.

“Send Tomas to watch the hospital. I want eyes on the doctor. Once we know where the Raiders put her, I’ll have a better idea of how to approach the biker assholes.”

Oleg smirked. He hated the upstart Savage Raiders as much as anyone. They were making a name for themselves in the pot and pussy industries with their dispensary and their brothel, and the Bratva had their hands in dope, meth, and trafficking flesh. The Raiders were weak pussies, who didn’t have the balls to dip their toes into where the real money was—the dark side of the Vegas lights. They were all brass and no steel, they would be easy to break…with the right leverage.

Soon, Danil would have his five million with interest, because the doctor would have little choice. And that five million was just the beginning, because Danil had big plans for Vegas…and he refused to let a runaway doctor, a pissant biker gang, and a willful woman keep him from taking everything he was owed.

Liz glared at the overhead light. One would think that people in hospital beds shouldn’t have to deal with the eyeball scorching, brain pummeling fluorescent lights upon waking from drug-induced slumber.

Her head, her body, her arm…she hurt everywhere. Including her chest, where her heart was. The heart that had gotten a pounding when she’d told Odin and Trouble about the Russians, and before that when Trouble tried confronting her about Erika.

Groaning, she raised her good arm to rub at her dry eyes. Narcotics always dried her out, which was one reason on a long list of reasons that she rarely took them. Now, however, she was grateful for them.

Reaching down, she grabbed the toggle with the button that would release morphine into her IV. Thankfully, the nurse had ordered the auto-feeder after Liz woke up that first time. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a hospital on earth that could give her the drugs necessary to rid herself of the man sleeping in the chair beside the bed.

She’d woken several times in the night to see that he was still there. Each time, he was on his phone doing whatever MC VPs did, or he was passed out. She was sure that he’d been watching her while she was sleeping, and she had no idea why he was still there. She was nothing to him—less than nothing. He’d proven that ten years ago, and every time they’d encountered one another since she’d started working for the Savage Raiders. It seemed like he’d taken every opportunity to remind her she was replaceable, and that hehadreplaced her—repeatedly throwing Amelia in her face, openly kissing the woman, touching her practically naked body, letting her suck him off right there where everyone could see it, and taking her upstairs to his room. He’d been so fucking blatant about how much he didn’t respect Liz or their history, that she couldn’t understand why he was giving her the time of day.

But then…she remembered.

He wants to talk about Erika.

She rolled her eyes. More likely, he wanted to get in her face about the fact she’d kept Erika a secret from him. Why he wanted to do that when he’d very clearly stated to Bitch Bonnie that he’d never wanted kids, she had no idea. Well, he could bitch about it all he wanted; she didn’t have a drop of remorse in her body about it. And she’d tell him that, too. As soon as the morphine kicked in, and it didn’t feel like she’d been curb stomped by two Russian goons.

“You’re awake,” Trouble’s deep, raspy voice rumbled from the chair beside her.

She smacked her still dry lips and replied, “Yep.” Even that single word sounded like she’d choked a frog. Before she could reach for the pink plastic water pitcher on the table beside the bed, Trouble was there, pouring water into a clear plastic cup with a straw, and holding it out to her.

She blinked at him, his expression blank, his hands steady. She reached for the cup, but he stopped her.

“I got it. Drink it slow,” he commanded gently.

Gently? Why was he being gentle? Trouble, Savage Raiders MC VP, wasn’t a man of gentleness, he was a man who kicked ass, chewed glass, and pissed brass. There was nothing gentle about the man she’d been reintroduced to two years ago.

But the Trouble she’d met at Tipped, the Trouble who’d held her and laughed with her into the night, and who’d encouraged her to share her dreams and hopes with him…that Trouble had been gentle. He’d been the man of her dreams, the man she’d never thought she’d ever find, the man who’d actually made her believe that all the angry, ugly words thrown at her in her years in the foster system weren’t true. That she was worth love and affection and protecting.

But it had all been a lie.Hehad been a lie.

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