Page 14 of Iron Will

For a second I think he’s gonna launch himself at me. Which I would fuckin’love. His hands curl into fists, his body posture shifting like he’s getting ready to charge, but then he seems to think better of it.

“Fuck you, asshole,” he hisses.

“Great comeback, dipshit.”

Mickey gives me the double-barrel middle finger and brushes past me, just narrowly avoiding knocking into me with his shoulder.

I bust out laughing again and head toward the first floor nurses’ station about fifteen feet down the hallway.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” I say to a slim redheaded nurse sitting behind the desk. She’s typing on a computer, and when she looks up at me she does a double-take.

“Um, yes, what is it?” she asks, a little breathlessly.

I turn and glance down the hall at Dipshit, who’s just disappearing out the front door. “What are the rules for who can and can’t visit a patient here? Especially a little kid?”

The nurse frowns a little, looking confused. “As long as the parent is okay with the person visiting the child, we have no restrictions,” she half shrugs. “Why?”

“No reason,” I growl, turning away. “Thanks.”

I take the stairs up to the second floor, and head toward Paisley’s room, pissed. That fuckin’ sleazebag should not be around this kid, I’m sure of it.

And I’m gonna do something about it. One way or another.

I’m just about to knock on the door to Paisley’s room when I hear the clicking of high heels on the vinyl floor. I look toward the sound. Laney, the hot social worker chick, is just rounding the corner, her head bent toward a clipboard she’s holding.

“Hey!” I yell, turning on my heel. “I need to talk to you.”

She looks up, startled. When she sees me storming down the hall, instead of looking afraid or intimidated, she just lowers the clipboard and squares her stance. She tosses her head just slightly, sending her cascade of dark hair over one shoulder.

“Can I help you?” she asks mildly.

She’s a cool one, this social worker. She’s got this classy ice-queen thing going on. Thisyou aren’t good enough for meattitude that half makes me mad, and half turns me on.

She’s wearing glasses today. Hot librarian horn-rimmed glasses.

Makes me want to get a library card. And fuck her in the stacks.

My cock springs to attention before I even realize it’s happening.

Fuck. Pull your shit together, Rourke.

“Why the fuck did I just see that kid’s mom’s boyfriend in here just now?” I demand, trying to ignore the rush of blood to my cock. “Isn’t anybody watching out for her?”

Laney’s gaze flickers, and she draws in a breath. “I’m sorry, but the hospital can’t guard every patient staying here,” she says, sounding a little impatient.

“That’s bullshit. The second you saw me in Paisley’s room yesterday, you tried to get me out of there.”

“That’s not the same,” she protests. “You have no connection to her. You were a total stranger, and we hadn’t yet located the mother. And quite frankly,” she adds, tossing a glance at my cut and tattoos, “between him and you, you look quite a bit more dangerous on the face of it.”

She’s looking at me with this expression I can’t quite read. On the one hand, she’s clearly trying to pull rank on me. On the other hand, her green eyes are dilated as hell right now. And her breathing is speeding up. I can tell because her tits are rising and falling faster under that pale pink blouse she’s wearing, distracting the shit out of me.

Well, well, well. Miss stuck-up social worker is hot for me.

I suppress a grin.

“Yeah. I’m dangerous,” I agree with a smirk. “But not to a kid, for fuck’s sake. That guy, though… he’s bad news. You can’t tell me you don’t see that!”

“Are you suggesting that I should judge people based on appearances?” she smirks back, cocking her head at me.

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