Page 20 of Queen Of WildCards

Ishook my head in stunned silence and did as he commanded, slipping out of the car behind him with a grunt of discomfort.Thepain radiated throughout my whole shoulder, and the sinking feeling asIrealizedI'dbe immobile and half-worthless for a few weeks really hit hard.BlackJackmoved around the back of theSUVquickly, butJokerbeat him to the girl's door and was busy pulling her out of it.

BlackJackscowled but said nothing and turned on his heels to follow me into the finished half of the warehouse.Acestormed off to his room, probably in search of something to clean off his face with, andBlackJackwandered into a nearby bathroom in search of a medical kit.Ididn't expect him to stitch me; hell, he'd already touched the captive so many damn times with literally no recoil or sneer of disgust that it had us all confused and reeling.

Blackjacknever touchedanyone.Itwas part of his creed at this point.Sofor him to voluntarily step in and handle the chick . . .

Weird, at the very least.

Causefor concern, maybe.Onenever knew with him.

Jokerhad the girl from theSUVcradled in his arms like a blushing bride, andIchuckled at the sight they made, her with that burlap bag over her pretty head, him with a semi-permanent grimace from a muscle cramp.I'dventure to bet it had been a very, very long time since he'd had to chase someone like that.Probablydamaged his pride a bit to be bested by a chick.

Iknow it would aggravate me, the knife to my shoulder, if she hadn't looked so fucking hot and badass while doing it.

Somethingtold me if she'd had that knife in the other boot, ifI'dhave reached for that foot instead,I'dprobably be dead.

Thethought sent a thrill racing through my bloodstream, andIgroaned and reached down to rearrange myself as my cock decided that was the hottest thing it had ever heard.

Goodto knowIgot off on my own mortality.MaybeIcould get her to stab me again whileIfucked into her tight little body—

Anywhoo.

Ihobbled over to the cage we dragged to the center of our commons area and took a seat on one of the nearby couches that had been unceremoniously shoved against the walls to make room.Myeyes followedJokeras he eyed the cage with some disdain before he finally crouched and walked inside with his captive.

Ifhe felt so damn bad, maybe this would teach him to keep his mouth shut.

Talkingmeant casualties.

Every.Damn.Time.

Thegirl let herself be deposited on the floor of the cage, the fight leeched out of her like a slow leak in a tire.Inarrowed my eyes and watched her asJokerbacked out of the metal prison and closed the door almost apologetically.Thegirl's legs were pressed tightly together, but her knees were bent, and the skirt rode up to the swell of her ass, showing just enough of her thighs to make a man wanna cream.BeforeIcould stop myself, a flash of what she'd look like bent over a desk whileIpeeled those stockings from the luscious thighs she clenched tight ran rampant across my mind.Istifled a groan and readjusted my dick once more, catchingBlackJack'sdisapproval as he took a seat behind me, medical kit in hand.

Ieyed him warily. "Where'sJoker?"

Hepointed a thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen. "HelpingAce."

Aman of few words, indeed.

"Sothat meansI'mstuck with you, eh?"Itried to chuckle and was rewarded by a stinging tug at the edges of this damn puncture wound. "Ow."

"Sitstill, you buffoon,"BlackJackmuttered, his fingernails scraping my rigid abdomen as he tugged my shirt over my head with quick efficiency.Hislips curled up in distaste at the contact as he flung the shirt away, andIbreathed a sigh of relief at the familiar reaction to touch from the stoic man.

BlackJackcould always be relied on for three things—few words with maximum effect, paranoia, and an aversion to skin-on-skin touch.Whenhe willingly held onto the captive girl, it sent a huge shockwave of questioning and confusion through the whole crew.Butthis, his hissing recoil as he poked and prodded at the soft, fleshy wound on my shoulder, the way he gingerly held himself away from me as far as possible, his narrowed eyes as he dumped some water over my sore skin to wash away any dirt or grime, it was all a familiar reaction from the manI'dworked with for the last three years in this crew.

PerhapsIwas making a big deal out of nothing.

Wewere all keyed up in our own ways, andI'dbeen stabbed.Maybethis was shock setting in.MaybeIwould die here simply becauseIcouldn't stop worrying about whyBlackJackwas touching people all of a sudden.

Notnow, dick.

Ishifted in the chair, andBlackJackslapped me upside the head for my efforts to rearrange subtly. "Sitstill, asshole;I'mnearly done."

Hestuck two butterfly bandages on my shoulder to hold the wound together and slapped a gauze pad atop it, the force of which made me wince.Hemade quick work of the bandage wrap in his hands, tugging it around my shoulder and upper arm untilIwas covered and secure.

"Howlong willIbe like this?"Icomplained as he reached back into the bag and pulled out a fabric sling. "Oh, no.You'renot making me wear that—"

"Tryto lift your arm, idiot," he ground out, waiting patiently for me to be a recalcitrant asshole and do it.Iknew what the result would be.I'dhurt, andIwouldn't even lift the fucker halfway.ButIwasn't about to let him win the pissing contest, soIlifted that arm all the way over my head and grimaced as the room started to spin around me.

Ilet him put the damn sling on me and settled down after that.

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