Page 307 of Merciless Desires

I ride fast, not caring that I’m going over the speed limit. The good thing is that the road is clear; we get to the hospital in a few minutes.

I park my bike; Iceman pulls to the right next to me. We turn off the bikes. I take off my helmet, sliding off the seat and placing my helmet on the handlebars. I ran to the hospital doors, Iceman next to me. I look around for the nurse station to get information about the emergency room.

I stop at the nurse station, looking at the older nurse with the name tag Betty.

“Can I help you,” Betty asks, looking at me. Her eyes roam over my cut, my ink, and my face pursing her lips.

Fuck!

I don’t need this right now.

“I’m looking for my wife. She was in a car accident,” I snarl, gripping the edge of the desk.

My heart is pounding so fucking hard that I feel like it’s going to popped out of my chest. I’m so fucking scared.

I can’t lose Leticia.

She’s my everything.

My baby!

Fuck no!

“What is your wife’s name,” Betty asks, looking at me.

“Leticia Stone,” I snarl, ready to run around the hospital, looking for her.

Iceman is standing next to me, leaning next to me to look at Betty.

“I’m here to see my wife, Scarlett Smith,” Iceman growls, leaning over the counter to look at the screen.

“Give me a minute to look them up,” Betty says, wide-eyed.

“Thank fuck that the baby is with Paige,” Iceman growls, running his fingers through his hair.

Paige is Casper’s old lady and always offers to babysit.

“Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Stone are in the operating room. You will need to wait until the doctor comes looking for you,” Betty says, nodding.

Betty pushes her eyeglasses up her nose, looking at me stone-faced.

Fuck!

“Do you know how long that’s going to take,” I ask, furrowing my forehead.

“I don’t have any idea,” Betty says, pursing her lips.

“Right,” I say, turning to walk out of the hospital.

A few minutes later, Iceman walks out looking fucked up, just like I feel.

“All I know is that those motherfucker doctors best take care of my Baby girl,” growl rubbing my neck, and looking up at the moon.

“Fuck, I hear you,” Iceman says, nodding, pulling out a cigarette.

He offers me a cigarette; yeah, I fucking take it. My nerves are shot, and I need to relax.

Fuck!

---