41. He’s Thrown Down The Gauntlet

Chapter 41

He's Thrown Down The Gauntlet

HUNTER

H alf an hour later, with Megan relatively calm, I exit the car in front of the entrance of the hospital. I fix my eyes on her as she gets out and I see the rising fear in her eyes replaced by confusion.

"What is this?"

There's a long line of black cars with tinted windows waiting in front and behind us in a long procession, and just as we exit, so do the occupants of those cars. In their pristine black suits, their earpieces, and the grim expressions on their faces, anyone would be intimidated.

I scoop her up in my arms, ignoring her gasp.

"This is all for you. I brought in my full security team and placed them here, hoping their presence will be sufficient for you to feel safe?"

Her eyes are wide and watery when they turn to me as if she doesn't quite believe what I've done for her.

"I didn't–" she stammers, her eyes darting between me and the security team. "I mean, you really went for the shock factor, didn't you? I look like a visiting dignitary."

I'm not surprised to hear the snarky quip. In fact, if anything, it makes me feel a bit relieved because if she's comfortable enough to snipe at me, she won't have a panic attack once we get inside.

"Ready to go inside?"

"I can walk."

"I'd rather carry you," I say calmly, not ready to let her go.

Her injured arms and hands are loosely bandaged, and I can tell she wants to hold on to something from the way her fingers flex, so I secure my hold on her, and she gives me a stiff nod. She looks like a soldier about to go to war, and while the thought is amusing, my amusement fades when I see her expression fade as we stride into the hospital, flanked by Lars and Parker.

"I need a doctor," I tell the wide-eyed nurse who greets us when we reach the station.

She looks at both men watching her intently, and then when she glances at me, she does a double take, recognition dawning in her eyes.

"What exactly is the issue, Mr. Middleton?"

I raise an eyebrow at the fact that the nurse knows my name. Perhaps we've met before, or maybe I'm more notorious than I thought.

"My fiancée," I lie, enunciating the last word and tightening my hold on Megan. "She had an accident and fell on some shattered glass. Please get me a female doctor."

"I apologize, Mr. Middleton," the nurse says uneasily. "But you'll have to wait a minute. We're quite busy tonight."

I smile at her, annoyance flashing in my eyes. "I don't think you want to ask me to wait. My patience is running thin, and she's in a tremendous amount of pain."

I can see the nurse trying to stand her ground, clearly for the patients who are in the waiting room, but they are not my concern. This is why I need a permanent surgeon on my payroll.

"Nurse Paula." I glance down at her name badge before continuing in a pleasant tone of voice. "If I don't get a doctor with female pronouns within the next three minutes, I will shut down this hospital in five minutes, whether it's by setting fire to the building or buying it out with cash. I don't care which method."

"Hunter!" Megan quickly disapproves of the threat in my ear. I shush her with a soft pat on her thigh.

The nurse pales before stammering, "P-Please go to room four. I'll send a doctor in to see your fiancée immediately."

I see her try to glance in Megan's direction, but I narrow my eyes at her, and she scampers off. The room we wait in has a surgical bed, and I advise Lars and Parker to stand outside the door in case she tries to send security to deal with me.

"I'm not your fiancée," Megan hisses, her face still pale as she scoots closer to me when I place her on the bed. Her actions don't go unnoticed by me.

I carefully unwrap some of her bandages. The wounds look red and inflamed. It's probably a good thing I insisted on this hospital visit because I'm not sure I did the best job of pulling the glass out.

"Well, I'm too old to call you my girlfriend, and if I described you as the woman I'm sleeping with, you'd probably throw something at me."

"I've never thrown anything at you," Megan says indignantly, but her hands are cold to touch, and when I meet her eyes, I can tell she's trying to hide how terrified she is.

"It'll be over before you know it," I assure her while cupping her cheek, wishing that she'd relax. I don't know why I feel so uncomfortable in the face of her crippling fear, but I choose not to overanalyze it. This isn't about me.

The doctor, who arrives a few minutes later, is a middle-aged woman with her blond hair wrapped into a tight knot at the top of her head. The nurse has clearly already briefed her as she treads carefully around me, her voice painfully cheerful.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Yasmin. So what's going on today, Miss Taylor? I see you have some injuries to your arms."

I don't miss the hint of curiosity camouflaged in a pleasant tone from the doctor. She's skeptical about the nature of Megan's injuries. I guess it's common to assume the worst in a city like Los Angeles. I'm sure the physicians here have seen their fair share of abused women walk through the doors.

"Yes, I had an accident at home."

Megan, who hates relying on people, leans into my chest, damn near hyperventilating as Dr. Yasmin slowly rolls up her sleeves and then her pajama bottoms to inspect her injuries. I realize I didn't check her legs, but I can see that her knees are cut up a little as well.

Dammit.

My hands itch to inflict punishment on the man who crawled onto my skylight like a goddamn roach, and not because he tried to kill me, but because he hurt Megan. I shouldn't have my best men here at the hospital. Parker and Lars should be out with the rest of the team looking for that asshat. Hell, when we get out of here, I might have to join the hunt. I'd like to personally send him on his way to the underworld where he belongs.

"Well," Dr. Yasmin comments after a brief examination. "It looks like most of the shards have been plucked out already, which is good. But there are still a few remaining, and we'll need to treat you for any possible infection. I can have a female resident come in and take care of this quickly."

"We'd like you to do it," I tell her plainly.

"I understand your concern," she replies. "But this is how our residents get the training they need. We are a teaching hospital."

"Not tonight," I counter firmly, doing my best to keep my composure. I'm exhausted, and I have a shooter to catch. I don't have time for some uppity doctor who thinks she's too good to pull the glass out of someone's arm.

We have a brief stare-off, and then the doctor finally addresses Megan. "I will have to disinfect your arms and legs before I proceed, and it might sting a little. Are you ready?"

Her voice is kind, and the usually mouthy Megan nods, her face buried in my chest. Seeing her turn to me for comfort and protection is satisfying, even if it kills me to know that I'm the reason she's like this.

She doesn't flinch quite as much as the doctor removes the shards from her skin and puts them in a stainless steel bowl. By the end of the procedure, Megan is still leaning into me, but some of her fear has faded. I wonder if she simply had a bad experience with a doctor once, although my instincts tell me that it might not be that simple.

Dr. Yasmin carefully cleans the wounds with a saline solution and pat dries them with clean gauze. However, the moment she brings out a dark thread and needle, Megan begins to shiver and I immediately grasp her tightly, glaring at the doctor.

"We need to close your wounds," Dr. Yasmin gently tells Megan as she looks at me hard.

"I know," Megan finally speaks. "And I apologize for my behavior, but I know it will hurt badly."

Dr. Yasmin frowns. "Not with the numbing cream."

"W-What's that?" Megan asks.

I see the doctor pause, and then, after a moment of silence, she asks carefully, "Have you ever had stitches before?"

Megan nods mutely.

"Can you tell me the process? As in, what steps did the doctor take?"

Megan shivers again. "I knew somebody who was a nurse, and she'd always stitch me up."

I practically bite a hole into my tongue as Megan briefly pauses before she finishes her story. Why the fuck has a girl as young as Megan had a lot of experience with getting stitches?

"She would bring me to the local hospital to stitch me up, but since it was a favor, she'd tell me to sit still and not make any noise, or she'd get fired. There wasn't any numbing cream involved. Just a needle and thread. I didn't even know there was such a thing."

Dr. Yasmin stiffens, and her voice remains steady as she picks up a tube and shows it to Megan.

"Well, I'm going to use this prescription-level numbing cream on you so that you don't feel any pain, and your sutures will dissolve into your skin in two weeks, so you won't even feel that either. You also need three stitches on your forearm and two on your leg, but again, the same process."

I continue to hold her close but remain silent so that Megan can independently navigate the rest of our visit to the Emergency Room. The entire process is quick and efficient and while Megan's breathing is unsteady and her eyes glaze over at times, she doesn't say a word. Dr. Yasmin is professional throughout and when we're about to leave, she takes me aside for a quick word.

I reluctantly hand Megan over to Lars and step away to hear whatever she has to say.

"Make this quick, please."

"Somebody put a needle in that girl without anesthesia and, based on her story, it feels like it was done on purpose to harm her. If you can provide it, I would like that nurse's name and report her for malpractice. Your fiancee has been traumatized."

I study the doctor, and with a longer glance, I realize that she's not as middle-aged as I thought. The lines on her forehead are probably from stress or too much time in the sun. If I had to guess, I would say that she's only a year or so younger than me. With that realization, an idea strikes me as I give her a meaningful smile.

"I'll let you know."

"Don't smile at me like that, Mr. Middleton," she says curtly before turning around to leave. "It creeps me out."

I smirk.

And she has a backbone.

She'll do nicely.

As I return to Megan, who insists on walking on her own, I look at Lars as I brush past him. "Find out everything you can about Dr. Yasmin Torres."

"What about the shooter?" he asks, worried.

"Parker can take the lead on that."

I know he'd rather be hunting down the shooter, but Lars nods discreetly before slipping away to handle what I've asked.

"How are you feeling?" I ask Megan as I help her into the car and adjust the seatbelt so it locks in comfortably across her chest.

"She was right. I don't feel anything but tightness from the sutures. The miracles of modern medicine, huh?"

"I don't know that numbing creme is a modern miracle. It's been around for a long time."

Megan simply shrugs her shoulders, and while I want to dig a little deeper into the fact that someone in Megan's past tortured her, I can feel someone watching me. I turn my head and look back at the hospital building.

My eyes narrow on a dark figure standing in the shadows, quite a distance from us. He's at least six feet tall, wearing a puffer jacket, and they pull the furred hood up. His hands slide into his pockets as he watches me. I stare back, realizing that he's far enough away that giving chase would be pointless. I'd never catch him, and neither would Parker. After a few long seconds, he turns around and retreats into the side of the building.

My smile is dark.

The events of the last few weeks are all crashing around me and have no doubt led me to this very moment.

One dead doctor, another dead Steve, and a hail of bullets in my home can only mean one thing.

My enemy has thrown down the gauntlet.

And I accept.

The one fact he seems to have forgotten is that you can't hide when I run this entire city.

I will find him.

And when I do, I will destroy him.