Page 38 of An Indecent Longing

But those circles were in the black ops community, where he’d found a place for the rage that lived inside him. That black pit had only gotten darker after his father’s murder, and the sanctioned wetwork he’d performed had given him an outlet for it.

And then Florida had happened…

He shook his head, blocking the thought before it could grab hold.

No sense wasting time on things he couldn’t change. Especially not when he needed to pick up his pissed-off client from last night and escort the dick back to the airport.

At least the guy was leaving.

* * * * *

Dorrie received the message at 2:03 p.m.

Incoming. KW. Shoulder. 25. Male.

She was in the middle of examining a thirty-year-old single mother of two who had barely been able to drag herself and her children out of their apartment. Her fear of losing her job if she didn’t have a valid doctor’s excuse was greater than her inability to breathe.

Dorrie grit her teeth against the urge to text back and tell whoever had messaged her to take the asshole with the knife wound to the emergency room because she was with someone who needed her more.

Only…that’s not how her arrangement with her dad worked.

Double-edged sword.

That’s what her mom had said when Dorrie had told her what her dad had offered. And her mom knew about those firsthand.

Dorrie had decided the pros outweighed the cons. And, for the most, they had.

Then there were days like this.

She texted back.

Life-threatening? ETA?

Probably not. Ten minutes.

It would take her that long to walk back to her office. At least the incoming patient probably wouldn’t die before she got there. Probably.

Damn it.

“Gloria, I need to leave for an emergency but I want to continue our discussion. I’m going to give you a script for antibiotics and a note for your employer. And I want to see you again Monday but I want to see you at my office.”

Working out the details took a few minutes but Dorrie didn’t rush.

So her next patient was already waiting for her when she got back to her office.

“Jesus, Doc. What the fuck took you so long? This fucking hurts.”

The unfamiliar young man sitting on the exam table in the private room accessible from a separate entrance couldn’t have been more than twenty and dressed like a gangbanger. Low-slung baggy jeans. Black wife-beater. Flat-brim baseball cap.

The snarl on his lips made his handsome face much less attractive, and his expression when he looked up at the man standing by his side made Dorrie want to stick her fingers into his wound before she shot him up with painkillers.

He was one of “those.” Men who thought women were only good for one thing and she didn’t mean cooking.

Before she could respond, however, the man who stood beside the table smacked the gangbanger on the back of the head.

“You better keep your mouth shut or I will tell the doc to let your stupid ass bleed out on her table. Sorry, Dr. Haverstick. He’s young and stupid.”

“Hey! What—”

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