Page 201 of Merciless

“I’m right here. It’s going to be okay. We’ve got you, Dove. We’ve got you, okay?”

When she does nothing, he looks up at me. I fucking hate the broken, panicked look in his eyes.

It fucking kills me.

JD doesn’t let anyone get close to him.

But for whatever reason, Alana has slipped in through a couple of tiny cracks in his armor.

He can’t lose her. He just fucking can’t.

I can’t.

“I’m going to let Doc in. Keep talking to her. Keep—”

“Go,” he says in a rush, giving me little choice but to run out of the room and down the hallway.

The second I have the front door in my sights, I rush toward it and pull it open.

I’ve no idea where Doc was before JD called him, but he must have been close because, by some miracle, he’s pulling up in front of my house.

He’s out in a flash and rushing toward me with his trusty bag in his hand.

He’s like a male, medical version of Mary Poppins or some shit with the array of things I’ve seen him pull out of that bag over the years.

No matter what the medical emergency, he’s always prepared.

“She’s in the kitchen,” I say, the second he’s close enough to hear me.

He rushes past me and I swing the door closed, taking off behind him.

It’s not until I get to the kitchen doorway it occurs to me that I should have warned him who it is.

He gives the pale, ghostly still woman on the couch a double take before he lowers his bag to the floor and flips the top open.

“She’s barely breathing, Doc,” JD says.

“I’ve got just the thing. Give us some space, please?”

Reluctantly, JD stands and comes to stand beside me as Doc administers the EpiPen.

“She’s going to be okay,” I whisper, watching Doc’s every move as he checks her over.

I swear time stands still, but eventually, her breathing begins to get easier and thankfully, a little bit of color comes back to her cheeks.

“Thank fuck for that,” JD mutters.

Neither of us says anymore as Doc continues to work. My cell buzzes in my pocket, but I don’t give a shit about anyone who wants me right now.

No one is as important as the woman on my couch.

Once Doc’s happy with her condition, he turns to face us both.

“Alana Murray?” he asks, his brows lifted in curiosity.

It’s no secret she’s missing. Maverick running all over town looking for her has ensured that anyone who cares to listen knows she’s vanished.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Doc,” I say innocently.

---