Page 19

Story: Hot as Hell

Charlie hesitated for a moment, her gaze flicking to her hands as she took a breath. Then with a quiet almost defeated tone, she answered, “About the same.”

Hemlock’s hands tightened briefly around the steering wheel as he spoke again, “We’ll be at the clinic shortly. I’ve already called Razor and he’s going to meet us there.”

Charlie wanted nothing more than to be her normal, cheerful self, to offer that easy smile she’d always given without thinking. But the pain in her face this morning was too much to ignore, each movement sending sharp, electric streaks through her temples, making the effort to smile impossible. She had barely slept, between the never-ending ache in her face and the strange, unsettling dream that had haunted her sleep, she was exhausted.

It always seemed to come when she was on the verge of sleep, drawing her into a place where she couldn’t find any relief. And when it wasn’t the dream keeping her awake, it was the warmth of Hemlock’s body beside hers. Every inch of her body was in tune with his. The way he moved in the bed, the slow rise and fall of his chest as he slept, the quiet murmur of his breath. It made for a very long night.

“Okay,” she finally replied.

Hemlock pulled out of the driveway, his hands gripping the wheel tightly. The engine hummed steadily as he navigated the quiet road toward the clinic. The air between him and Charlie was thick with unspoken thoughts. He stole a quick glance at her from the corner of his eye, watching her profile in the dim morning light filtering through the car’s windows. Her face was pale, drawn tight with fatigue showing, and though she was trying to mask it, he could see the subtle shifts in her expression.The way she winced when the car hit a bump in the road, told him she was holding the pain inside.

Chapter Nine

Lottie looked up from her paperwork as Hemlock greeted her, her warm smile lighting up the small clinic. Her jet-black hair was pulled into a high ponytail, her signature bang framed her deep green eyes.

“Good morning, Emile,” she said, her voice bright and welcoming. Her eyes shifted toward the young woman from the night before, a friendly look on her face. “I see we’ve talked Miss Cote into returning for more scans.

Charlie gave a small nod, giving Lottie a half-smile but remained quiet.

Hemlock stepped forward, his long, easy stride making him seem even taller than usual.He stared at Lottie; she did not want to start with him. Not this early in the morning. Having Charlie snuggled next to him all night had made it impossible to sleep. Every time she’d gotten closer, he had to turn his body away due to its response to hers.

Charlie looked up at Hemlock smirking, “Emile?”

“It’s my real name,” he said with a little too much bite. It was her damn fault he was in a foul mood. Still, he shouldn’t snap at her, Lottie was the one testing him. Turning his attention back to Lottie, he wanted only one thing. “Is there any coffee made?”

“Yes. And it’s fully caffeinated,” Lottie said with enthusiasm.

“Thanks. Could you please show Miss Cote to an exam room? We’re meeting Razor here.” He saw the change in Lottie’s demeanor at hearing the brother was headed to the clinic. The duo needed to either get on the ride or not even think about buying a ticket to it. “Everything okay, Lottie?”

“Yep,” she answered curtly.

Seemed the mention of old blue eyes had the pretty goth nurse’s feathers ruffled. Hemlock would take that as them being even. She had one point for using his real name and he had one for getting under her skin with the mention of Razor.

Hemlock stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowed with concern. “I just couldn’t believe it when I found her. She was so... vulnerable. I’ve never seen her like that before. She kept saying it didn’t hurt too bad, but I could tell something was wrong.”

Razor nodded solemnly, glancing down at the chart in his hands. “Pain like that doesn’t happen without a reason, especially not from something as small as a cheekbone injury. The MRI will give us a clear picture.”

“She admitted getting into an altercation, Hemlock reminded Razor.

Razor gave a tight nod. “I remember. You’ll need to keep an eye on her. But for now, we need to get a clear diagnosis. If it’s just a fracture, we can handle it. But if there’s something else... we’ll be ready to deal with that too.”

While Charlie was brought to get scans done, Hemlock slipped into the office and closed the door. Hemlock leaned back against the door, taking a steady breath. He pulled out his phone and dialed Sherlock’s number, his fingers moving quickly over the screen. They needed to know who had been in Charlie’s hotel room.

“What? There was a pause on the other end, followed by a stream of curses. “Jesus Christ, Hemlock. It’s fucking early,” Sherlock’s voice was getting sharper, the way it always did when he was switching gears from half-asleep annoyance to full-on professional mode.

Hemlock chuckled despite the tension building in his chest. He could almost hear Sherlock dragging himself out of bed, the familiar grumble of annoyance in his voice. “Sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t all that sorry. “Didn’t know you worked last night.”

“I was out late with my girl,” Sherlock mumbled into the phone.

When did Sherlock get a girlfriend? And why didn’t he know about it?

Hemlock heard a door opening, and Sherlock’s bare feet walking down the hall, then another door opening and closing. “Do you have to take me with you to piss?”

“You woke me up, so yeah.”

Hemlock waited for Sherlock to take a piss before he continued talking. When he heard the flush, he asked when the brother could be at the clubhouse. “Sherlock,” his voice low but urgent, “I need you to investigate who broke into Charlie’s hotel room. It happened after she was attacked last night, and I don’t believe it was simply a coincidence.”

Sherlock’s voice on the other end of the line was sharp and efficient, “Send me what I’m looking for and I’ll see what I can find.”