Page 113 of Forbidden Romeo

I stay on my feet long enough to be announced the winner before I fall right next to him.

Chapter Thirty

Aimee

“Get the hell out of my way!” I roar as the crowds begin to swarm around the entrance to Jack’s locker room.

The staff room exit will take twice as long, and they’re already dragging Jack out of the ring.

Thankfully, the crowds part for me, and soon, the only thing blocking my path is one of Padraic’s goons stationed at the door.

“Let me through,” I demand, already reaching for the door.

But the man throws up his arm. “Can’t.”

I blink through my rage. “Do you know who I am?”

“Yes,.” The brute narrows his eyes slightly.

“Then would you rather answer to my brother or my fiancé about this?”

The man’s demeanor instantly changes. His back straightens, and he removes his arm as if I’d just threatened to bite it.

I waste no time pushing through the door and into the locker room.

It’s the coach I see first, a man with a tight, grim expression as he holds Jack down on the table at the back of the room. Jack seems conscious, at least, but he keeps trying to sit up despite the yelling of the older man. Looks like he listens to other people just as well as he does to me. I glance around for a sports medic or at least some kind of physician but only find two attendants flurrying around, going between the entrance and the table brandishing towels and water.

“Where’s the medic?” I demand, striding over.

The coach glances up at me with wide eyes. “He’s not here.”

“I don’t need a medic,” Jack groans, but we both ignore him.

“What do you mean he’s not here?”

“He’s attending Quinn,” the coach replies, wrestling Jack back down when he tries to get up again.

I stare at him in disbelief. This place is a goddamn death trap that has been “successfully’”running for years. “You only have one fucking medic?”

“Ow!” Jack moans, flinching away from my shriek.

As much as he might deserve it, I take a second to cool down and keep my voice level.

“Can you keep him lying down?” I say to the coach before I turn on the two attendants. “Give me those towels. I need a first aid kit, a flashlight, and some rubbing alcohol. If you don’t have that, get the highest proof vodka from the bar. Nothing flavored.”

They stare at me blankly as I tie my hair out of my face. So I clap at them. “Now!”

That seems to do the trick. A moment later, they’re running out of the room, and I’m able to turn back to my patient.

I try not to bite my lip at the bloody graze I find along his side.

“Burn from the floor,” the coach clarifies as I take a moment to assess the damage. It’s not too deep, but it needs proper cleaning to stave off infection. I’m more worried about his concussion and the fact he’s breathing unevenly.

“Jack?” I say, finally gathering my courage to drag my eyes to his face. His lip has split at the bottom, and there’s an already darkening bruise forming along his jaw. As gently as I can, I open his mouth and take out his mouthguard. He flinches a little when my finger grazes his mouth.

There’s more blood in there than I would like, but luckily it looks like his teeth are all still intact. I’m a lousy emergency dentist.

“Aimee?” Jack mutters as he stares up at me.

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