Page 186 of Devil Mine

“Is she going to die?” he asks, voice brittle like blown glass.

From the little I know of the Underworld, those men are meant to be nigh invincible. Watching a man like him showing such distraught emotion, clearly brought to his knees by what’s happened to his wife is shocking.

It doesn’t take a genius to guess that may be why she has a bullet in her abdomen and is currently fighting for her life. She must have been targeted to get to him.

It’s working.

“Not if we have anything to do with it.” His eyes finally lift back to mine. He looks at me like he can see me for the first time. “The most talented doctors in the country work at this hospital. She’s in the best care possible. I’m Doctor Cavanaugh. Cassie,” I add, pausing for a moment before deciding to tell him, “I met your wife a few weeks ago, very briefly, when her mother was admitted.” Awareness seeps into his gaze. “I liked her. She seemed strong. A fighter.”

The ghost of a smile touches his lips, the first sign of an expression other than devastation.

“She is.”

“Then there’s a very good chance she’s going to make it.” Steel makes its way into my tone before I continue. “But we can’t focus, let alone do our jobs properly, if you’re out here destroying our waiting room. Your wife is going into surgery as we speak so it’ll be a few hours before you get any updates. I suggest you head to our guest area, take a shower and clean up. Make yourself presentable so that when your wife comes out of the operating theater you don’t scare her.”

One of the men behind him gives me a warning glare as another’s eyes widen in shock at the way I order their boss around. I don’t give a shit who he is out there, but in here he’ll follow my rules.

“I’m not leaving her,” he growls.

I tip my chin up at him. “Do you want the first thing she sees when she wakes up to be you covered in her blood?”

He looks disbelievingly down at his body, having seemingly forgotten the state of his appearance. The black of his clothes might hide most of the blood, but it’s also everywhere on his arms and up to his neck, contrasting obscenely with the elaborate tattoos on his skin.

One of the men, an older guy with a paunchy stomach, places a strong hand on his shoulder.

“Jefe, I’ll stay.”

“We all will,” another adds, stepping up to him.

“We’ll look after her,” a third assures, and I wonder if Tess knows she has an army of people waiting for her to come back.

He nods slowly, throat working thickly. “Gracias,” he says to his entourage, before looking back at me.

“I’ll let you know the second there’s news,” I tell him before he can even ask, then add, “Just so you know, your wife will likely need a transfusion due to the massive blood loss.”

“Take it from me,” he says, immediately extending his forearms at me like I’m going to extract it from his veins right here.

“What’s your blood type?”

“B.”

Pity crosses my face but I’m quick to mask it away. “I’m sorry. She’s type A negative, so you’re not a match. Don’t worry, we’ll look at what we have available and call other hospitals to find what we need.”

“Joder,” he curses, rubbing another over his face.

“Go,” I order, pointing in the direction of the guest showers.

“You’ll have me notified the second there’s news?”

“Yes.”

“Alright,” he says, and I watch as he walks off with one of his men, saying to him, “Tráeme un cambio de ropa.”

When I turn back around, I find the others still looking at me.

“What?”

“Do you know who that is?” one of the younger guards asks.

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