Page 11 of Hot as Hell (Royal Bastards MC, Montreal, Canada #2)

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.”

“Thanks,” Hemlock said, not bothering with pleasantries. “Be quick.”

“Yep.” Sherlock stumbled back towards his bedroom wondering how the hell they’d gotten home last night.

The line went dead as Sherlock hung up, and Hemlock dropped his phone onto the desk, his mind racing. He knew Sherlock could track down the specifics in no time, but it wasn’t going to ease his growing sense of dread.

He let out a deep breath, the kind that felt like it could ground him if he just held it long enough.

The office was quiet for now, just the soft hum of the lights overhead and the distant sound of footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Razor and Lottie would take care of Charlie for the moment.

The scans would give them more answers than they previously had, and with Sherlock on the case, hopefully he’d have something to go on soon.

For the first time in hours, Hemlock let himself relax—just a little. His head tipped back against the chair, his legs stretched out and resting on the desk in front of him. His eyelids felt heavy, the kind of exhaustion that wrapped itself around you and threatened to pull you under.

Hemlock felt like he’d just closed his eyes when the office door slammed open. Dropping his feet to the floor, he sat up trying to focus on Razor bounding into the small room.

“Did you want to look at these scans, Hemlock?”

Hemlock rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of his brief nap as Razor tossed the scans onto the desk in front of him.

He focused on the scans Razor had laid out, trying to process the data before him.

As expected, the hairline fracture in Charlie’s cheekbone was clearly visible in the X-rays.

The fracture wasn’t deep, but it was enough to cause significant pain.

The swelling around the area was pronounced—definitely adding to her discomfort.

Hemlock could only imagine how bad it must have felt the night before when she had been curled up on the sofa

Razor was still standing at the desk, watching Hemlock closely. “Well?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual. “What’s the verdict?”

Hemlock glanced up, giving Razor a hard look. “The fracture’s manageable. The swelling’s what’s really making it worse. Pain’s gotta be unbearable. Best thing we can do right now is ice it, let her rest, and get some pain meds into her.”

Razor didn’t look entirely convinced. “You think she’ll take the meds?”

Hemlock’s lips twitched in a dry half-smile. “If I have to, I’ll sit on her while she takes them.”

Razor grunted, clearly not expecting that response. “Has she said anymore about the fight?”

Hemlock set the scans aside and leaned back in his chair, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. “She’s dealing with heavier shit than just one fight. I’ve got Sherlock digging into things.”

“Keep me and the others in the loop.” Razor picked up the scans and walked out, leaving Hemlock to think things through for himself. Something told Razor the girl had a lot of baggage. Baggage his brother might not wanna deal with.