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When her hands come to my chest, her desperation bleeds through me. I rest my forehead against hers before dragging my lips to her ear. “Baby, you’re coming home with me. And then I’m going to figure out a way for you to be with your son.”

23

TECHNICALLY AND CARNALLY

Evie

Micah rushed me into his SUV, slammed the door, and didn’t stop to talk to Brax or Tim. He was hell bent on getting me out of there.

We also did not wait for my father.

After getting shot at in my own house, I was in no mood to sit around and chat in the hospital parking lot. The very hospital I frequent to visit my patients.

Now I wonder how long I’ve been followed.

The one highlight to my day was when Micah spoke freely on the way home. When he got shots off at my house tonight, he didn’t completely miss.

DNA.

Thank goodness for the science I believe in.

Now I just need the hitman to be in the national database.

Micah unlocks the deadbolt and nudges me inside, but he doesn’t turn on the lights. He slams the door and locks it before his bags hit the floor and he starts to lower the blinds. “The kitchen is through there. Help yourself to whatever you want.”

His condo is efficient and masculine. A worn leather sofa the color of caramel faces a television that’s bigger than mine mounted to the wall.

Not bigger than the screen in the media room, though, but definitely bigger than the one in the family room.

Now I wonder if Micah has seen the media room yet. Judging by the size of his TV, I think he might like it.

I quickly push thoughts of Micah, Chase, and me having a movie night out of my head.

Dammit. Get a hold of yourself, Evita.

Maybe if I talk to myself in my mother’s tone, it’ll kick me back into reality.

I cannot let my mind go to places like that. I have bigger things to focus on.

“You want to watch something?”

I look over and Micah is standing in the middle of his family room—arms crossed and assessing me.

“No,” I answer too quickly. “No, sorry. I’m in a trance. Lots of, you know, stuff.”

He moves past me and presses his lips to my head on his way to the kitchen. When I follow, he’s already digging through a messy cabinet beside the refrigerator.

He turns and hands me a bottle of painkillers. “I’m not going to pretend to know anything about healthcare, but they deadened your hip. You need to take something to get on top of the dull ache you’ll have in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, and there’s a really good possibility those are expired. You’re just going to have to deal. Maybe take an extra to balance it out.”

I give him a small smile and shake out three pills while he cracks open a water and sets it in front of me. I down the pills and state the least of my problems at the moment. “I don’t have anything here. We didn’t think ahead to pack a bag before the ambulance whisked us away from my house.”

He crosses his arms. “I can have someone go back to your house tomorrow. But we do need to talk about what’s next.”

I shake my head and am thankful I thought to grab my phone. At least I have that. I look at the screen. “I need to call the practice manager and explain what happened. Rescheduling my patients will be a nightmare. My associates can fill in. Then I need to call Naomi.”

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