Page 7 of Corrupted By the Shadow King (Hope Runs Deep #3)

Nikki

E very time we go over a pothole or a bump in the road, the injured stranger lets out a squeak or moan.

I don’t know what happened, but he is hurt and in pain, and I can’t just leave it to these other men to make sure he gets the care he needs.

Then again, maybe they want him dead. Maybe I’m going to end up floating down the River Walk.

What was I thinking? These men exude danger, and I happily jumped my merry ass into the vehicle with them. This is how people are kidnapped. Will I see my family again? Will I ever see my patients? What about my friends? You watch enough true crime dramas, Nikki. You know better! I chastise myself.

“Where are we going?” I demand.

“I’m taking him home.”

“He needs?—”

Twin cuts me off. “I am fully aware of what my brother needs.”

“Your brother needs?—”

Waving around the gun, he snorts with derision. “Are you always so gung-ho to lose your life? Do you always act like Florence Nightingale?” His Latino accent is getting thicker. I can’t tell where he is from, though. Around here, it can be almost anywhere.

“I help those in need.”

“And you think my brother needs you?”

“Look at him? He is burning up and bleeding. I don’t care what happened to him, but you need someone with medical knowledge.”

“And that person is you?”

“Yes.”

“I told you we have doctors who make house calls.”

“How do I know you will actually call them?”

The driver laughs. “ Este pajarito cree que es un águila .”

“Y’all need to stop calling me little bird.” Probably stupidly, I decide to take exception to everything they say and lash out.

“She takes exception to the little bird part but not to the part about her being an eagle wannabe,” the twin says before pointing the gun in my face.

I have to hold back the tremor of fear, but I lean back and swallow loudly.

I’m terrified of what I’ve gotten myself into, but it’s too late to turn around now.

The doors are locked, and even if I did open the door, a bullet travels faster than I can.

And if I somehow manage to get out of the SUV without being hit, the two thugs would probably catch me before I make it two steps.

“When we get to where we are going, you will examine my brother. You will tell me exactly what you need, and we will procure it. If he dies, you die. Simple as that, pajarito .”

I swallow again and nod, unable to form words.

“Good. I would hate for your pretty face to wind up in a morgue before its time.”

It feels like a lifetime before we pull into an underground parking garage.

We are in the upscale part of downtown, and what should have only taken fifteen minutes took closer to an hour, thanks to a parade and construction.

It’s a newer skyrise, and one I have not been in because I don’t have cause to frequent this part of the city much… or ever.

The opulence and grandeur I see when we move from the garage to the building have my jaw dropping and my eyes bulging. And we are only at a bank of elevators. Who the hell are these people?

“Um, what is your brother’s name?” I glance over to where my patient is bent in half over the shoulder of the driver. His arm is red and has dry blood from his bicep to his fingers.

Twin doesn’t answer me as we get onto an elevator, but the moment the doors close, his hand is around my throat, and I’m thrown against the mirrored wall.

I do everything I can to pry his fingers off me, my nails digging into his skin, but he doesn’t even flinch.

“You ask too many questions, pajarito . You are here for one reason and one reason only. To heal my brother. Remember our deal.”

He releases me, and I gasp for breath. My throat is a little sore, but I know he could have done a lot more damage than he did. For now, I will bide my time and do what I came here for.

The door opens, and there are several men with guns standing guard. None moves or says anything, but twin steps up to one of the men and whispers something in his ear. The guard shifts his eyes to me without moving his head and nods once.

“ Pajarito , follow me,” the driver says, carrying his cargo past the guards and down a hall, and I gasp.

It opens up to a two-story open penthouse.

Had we really climbed to the top without me realizing it?

Surely not. But then again, I was more worried about the fist around my throat than I was about the floor we were ascending to.

He leads me up a staircase and to the left.

At the end of a small hall, away from any other doors, he turns the knob and opens the room.

I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe a torture chamber or an empty room made out of concrete?

Instead, I see an enormous bedroom with a large king-size bed on the right, a desk near a corner bank of windows, and a seating area with a couch and armchair to the left.

It is like a small studio apartment, only it is bigger than my entire one-bedroom apartment just outside the city. Who is this man?

“No! You can’t!” the injured man shouts when the driver gently puts him down on the bed.

With a backward glance at me, the driver sighs. “Alex, it’s me, Ricky.”

“Ricky?” His words come out slurred and almost imperceptible before his eyes close and he passes out again.

“You, come and examine him. Do not think of doing anything funny. I will be watching, and I’m much worse than his brother.”

I am seriously considering my life choices at the moment and wondering if I’m going to live through the day or not.

“I’m not going to do anything funny. I only want to help him.

” Nervously, I step up to the bed and wince when I get a closer look at his arm.

There is fresh blood dripping down from a saturated scrap of cloth that is covered in dirt, blood, and whatever else.

“I need alcohol, hot water, soap, soft cloths, bandages, a first aid kit, and…” I sit on the bed and remove the makeshift bandage, and I have to hold back my reaction.

There are two wounds. I’ve seen plenty of these to know it’s a bullet wound.

Entry and exit. The first looks like someone tried to cauterize it.

The skin is red, blistered, and angry. The other has stitches.

Is that fishing line? This one is oozing and looks even worse than the first one.

The stitches are being pulled tight from the swelling, and there is pus leaking out.

It appears a few of the stitches have popped, and only three remain intact.

This isn’t the first time I’ve seen emergency medicine like this, but the wound has dirt and grime still on it, almost like it hadn’t been cleansed first. Depending on the situation they were in, they may not have been able to do everything properly.

“I’ll also need a lot of gauze, a scalpel, saline flush, and iodine. If you can get pain meds, an IV, and antibiotics, he will need those too.” Shaking my head, I release a trembling breath. “I have surgical training, but this…it might be better to call the doctor.”

“You are his doctor now,” the twin says as he walks into the room, pulling our attention to him.

“I thought you said you could get a doctor to make a house call,” I challenge nervously. This man’s injuries are a lot more severe than I ever thought possible.

“Our family physician is unable to come at the moment, and I do not trust his replacement. You will be his doctor and heal him. You were very adamant that you would help him, so do it.”

“Angel, maybe—” Ricky starts, but he quickly shuts up with one scathing glare from twin. So, the driver is Ricky, twin is Angel, and the guy knocking on death’s door is Alex. Am I in the show “Buffy” or something?

“I’ve done a background check on you, Miss Nicolette Albert.

Your great-grandparents on your father’s side immigrated from Mexico and changed their name from Alberto to Albert to sound more American.

Your mother’s parents came from France. Both sides were well-to-do, and your father is a senior partner for one of the best law firms here in San Antonio.

Your mother runs a charity organization that helps children all over the world with medical needs.

Your sister works as a musician and composer, and your brother-in-law is a junior partner in your father’s law firm, probably because of who he married.

You have specialized training in the surgical field and began your nursing career in the E.R.

From where I stand, you are perfectly suited to help my brother. And you will.”

The amount of information he was able to pull on my family in a short period of time scares me.

If I refuse to help Alex, will Angel and Ricky go after my family?

Clenching my jaw, I squeeze my hands into fists.

I have a feeling that if I deck him, he will kill me, and then his brother would be worse off than he is. “When was he shot?”

“Two days ago.”

“Where?”

“Not important.”

“Everything is important!” I snap.

He smirks. “Not that, pajarito .”

I have no choice. “Will you be able to get everything I need?”

Angel’s eyes shift to Ricky, and I look at the other man too, seeing him nod. Angel finally says, “We will. You will have everything you need shortly. Do what you can with what we have on hand. The IV and antibiotics will be here soon.”