Page 38 of Tempting My Billionaire Master

“Where’s the shooter?” he asked, eyes never leaving Ethan’s shoulder.

“We left him in the woods,” I replied. “I think he’s unconscious.”

“Better keep your eyes peeled, ladies,” Patrick warned as he began cutting Ethan’s shirt. “I’m afraid that won’t be easy,” Elisabeth said. “Not with such a handsome fellow right in front of us!”

Susan smacked her friend’s arm in exasperation. “Hush, you ridiculous woman!”

Patrick carefully cleaned the wound, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Doesn’t seem too dangerous, but he’s lost a lot of blood,” he muttered, checking the back of Ethan’s shoulder for any exit wounds. Finding none, he sighed. “Bullet’s still inside. We need to get him to a doctor to have it removed.”

“Let’s take him to Amanda,” Mary suggested.

Patrick blinked.

“A-Amanda?” he stammered, visibly flustered.

“Enough dawdling. Hurry up,” Susan ordered. Patrick nodded and began wrapping Ethan’s shoulder in thick bandages, but they kept slipping loose.

“Here, use this.” Mary pulled a long pink ribbon from her hat and handed it to Patrick. He used it to securely tie the bandage in place.

“Keep watch while I get him into the cruiser,” Patrick ordered the three ladies.

With a grunt, Patrick attempted to lift Ethan’s unconscious body, but his weight proved to be too much. Instead, he pulled him towards the police cruiser as Susan and I helped with his legs. Elisabeth stood by the back door, holding it open as wide as possible.

“Alright,” Patrick panted, “on three. One… two… three!” Together, we heaved Ethan up into the back seat of the cruiser. His long legs dangled out of the car, and it took another few minutes of awkward maneuvering before we managed to settle him inside. Sweat dripped down my face, and I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.

“Drive to Amanda’s place,” Mary instructed Patrick, her voice firm. “We’ll follow you in my car.”

Patrick nodded and climbed into the driver’s seat, while Susan settled into the front passenger side. I slid in next to Ethan, cradling his head in my lap as Patrick raced along the empty road towards Pinegrove.

Ethan remained unconscious, pale and still. I smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “Hold on, Ethan. We’re getting help. Just hold on…”

My gut wrenched as I gazed down at his beloved face. I couldn’t lose him now, not after all we’d endured. I needed him to pull through. I needed him, period.

As we drove into Pinegrove, Patrick grabbed the police radio and said, “I need to call this in.”

Panic surged through me. “Please, don’t,” I begged. “You don’t understand—the police can’t be trusted.”

“What?” Confusion flickered across Patrick’s face. “Why not?”

“Chloe,” Susan interjected, her voice stern. “Like it or not, you’re going to have to explain yourself.”

“Of course, I’ll tell you everything,” I stammered, my voice shaky. “But please, not now. Whoever is after Ethan paid off some of the police too.”

“Is that why you were hiding in the woods?” Susan asked, her eyes narrowing. I nodded, and she turned to her grandson, her tone serious. “Put down that radio.”

He obeyed, setting the radio back in its cradle.

“And Patrick, if I learn that you’re on some gangster’s payroll, I’ll kick your ass to kingdom come.”

“Come on, Nana,” Patrick replied. “You know I wouldn’t do something like th—”

“Just drive,” she interrupted. “We’re almost to Amanda’s.”

I gazed out the window at the familiar shops and houses sliding by, as Pinegrove’s streets remained quiet, and the tension in the car hung heavy as we pulled up in front of the local doctor’s office.

Its faded blue exterior looked almost cheerful in the golden morning light. Patrick killed the engine and craned around to look at me, his face etched with concern.

“You gonna be okay?”

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