Page 116 of The Good Girl

“Jesus fuck, you just took ten years off my life. I didn’t think. I shoved you under the table. I should have checked that you were okay first. I should have?—”

“Done exactly what you did. Don’t second guess yourself now,” I tell him.

He takes a deep breath before blowing it out, gently tugging his sister to lean against him. I turn to Nevaeh, who is as pale as a ghost.

“Dice is hurt. I’ve gotta get back to him.”

“What? I’m coming.”

Stay here?—”

“Fuck that. Where is he?”

I snarl, but don’t waste time arguing. I drag her across the room to where Dice and Capone are.

“How’s he doing?”

“Still breathing, but stomach wounds are not good. Too many things to damage.”

Nevaeh moves so she can lift Dice’s head onto her lap. She runs her fingers across his forehead, looking up at me with tears running down her face.

“He’s a fighter, Nevaeh. He won’t give up easily.”

She nods and looks down at him, murmuring soft words meant only for Dice. I crawl over to the girl with the leg wound and yank the tablecloth off the nearest table. A man is pressing his hands to the wound, but blood is pumping out between his fingers.

“Need to make a tourniquet. It looks like they hit an artery.” He moves back and holds her as I wrap the tablecloth around her upper thigh and pull it tight. She cries out, clutching onto theother guy. “Sorry, sweetheart. I need to slow the bleeding down.” I tie it as tight as possible and hope the ambulances arrive soon.

“You good with her while I check on the others?” I ask the guy.

“Yeah, I’ve got her.” I slap his shoulder and get to my feet, surveying the room.

I had a feeling Khan might tail us here. I knew someone had been watching us. I knew there’d be eyes on Nevaeh. She was too much of a temptation. A way to hurt me that they would take pleasure in. What I didn’t expect was for them to shoot up a fucking bookstore to get to us. This kind of massacre will make front-page news. What the fuck was Khan thinking?

I scrub my hand over my face as I hear the sound of sirens in the distance. Doesn’t matter what the intention was, shit like this can’t happen. It won’t just bring the spotlight to their club. If anyone sees them and notices their cuts, it will bring unwanted attention to all of us. If there was ever a doubt before, it’s gone now.

Khan has to die.

Chapter Thirty

Nevaeh

It’s hours later before the police let us leave. I refuse to go home until we have more news on Dice, which is why I’m sitting in the hospital waiting room and sipping crappy coffee as Havoc paces back and forth while he talks on his phone.

I tune him out, needing to stay in my little bubble of safety for a bit longer. A place where my readers aren’t being shot at and where a man I care about isn’t fighting for his life.

“You okay, Tinkerbell?” Capone asks from beside me.

I look at him. His T-shirt is covered in Dice’s blood, and a smear of it across his cheek has me swallowing down bile.

“No, Capone. I don’t think I am. I don’t think I’ll be okay until Dice wakes up.”

He reaches over and takes my hand, squeezing it.

“Is this my fault?”

“Fuck no. How can this be your fault?”

“Because I knew there was a chance that the trouble with the club might follow us, and I came anyway,” I tell him quietly so nobody will overhear us.

---