The Monster (Boston Belles #3) - L.J. Shen Page 0,42

with Becker. She flipped him over like he was a fish she considered buying at the market, zeroing in on his wound, frowning. Yet again, I realized that she was delicate looking but could hold her own. She wasn’t physically frail and wasn’t squeamish.

She pointed at Becker, not even asking for his name. “I’m going to start with this one, since he needs urgent medical attention. Make yourself useful for a change and help me set him up on the table, will you, Sam?”

Was that a dig? I’d bite her head off if I were in a position to do so. As it happened, she was doing me a solid, so I hoisted a mostly unconscious Becker against my shoulder, ignoring her patronizing tone, and followed her into the small room, which had a surgical table, a desk, and a large medicine cabinet.

The room was fully decked out in medical equipment, anesthetics, IV stands, and a blood pressure monitor.

The what-the-fuck questions were piling up, nice and high, as I tried to piece together how this meek, innocent woman, who was doing her residency at Brigham Hospital as an OB-GYN, knew about a place like this, let alone had easy access to it.

“What the hell is this place?” I hissed, not accustomed to being kept in the dark. Especially as I’d always thought I knew everything there was to know about the youngest Fitzpatrick.

“A friend of mine owns it. He treats people without insurance here. People who cannot afford urgent care,” she explained primly, signaling me with her chin to the spot where she wanted me to dispose Becker. So I did.

“Are you helping him do this? It’s fucking illegal, Aisling. I can’t let you do this.”

This made her bark out a laugh. “I’ve seen you shoot someone in the head and you are here so I can patch up your hitmen. Oh, the hypocrisy. Dare I say, Sam, this is so deliciously rich I think your statement alone should be in a higher tax bracket than my family.”

“You and I are not the same.”

“According to you …” She shrugged. “You’re nothing to me.”

“I am your father’s right-hand man. My job is to keep his kids out of trouble. I will do whatever the fuck I need to to stop you from getting thrown in jail.”

“You will keep well away from me, Brennan, and let me do my job, or I will never help you again.”

She went to a nearby sink, dumped her elastic gloves, and scrubbed her hands with soap before putting on a new pair as I glared at her. She had a point. Her access to this place could be beneficial to me. There was no reason why old Gerry needed to know his daughter was being an idiot as long as it worked in my favor.

“Can I see your ticket?” she asked, her back to me.

“What the fuck do you mean?” I frowned.

“To the show you are apparently watching. Get out, Sam. I’m working here.”

Concealing my surprise (and delight at discovering this bossy side of her), I leaned against the door, giving zero fucks about Angus, who was still in the reception with his dangling arm and porn star moans.

“I think I’ll stay and see you in action, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind.”

“Allow me to correct my statement—I don’t care if you mind. I’m staying.”

“I won’t treat him,” she threatened but was already getting to work cutting his shirt vertically with a pair of scissors.

“Yes, you will. Your need to be helpful overpowers your hatred toward me.”

“Don’t be so sure,” she muttered, working quickly and efficiently, removing the bullet from Becker’s lungs without breaking a fucking sweat.

“Your Hippocratic Oath, then.”

It was beautiful. Watching Aisling, the girl I knew since she was seventeen, withdrawing a bullet from a man’s lungs with the steadiest of hands while he was writhing in pain, twisting underneath her. I could tell the bullet didn’t pierce through the lung, but it was still damn impressive.

“Any news?” she asked as she began stitching him up.

“About?”

“My father and the media circus around him.”

You mean the one I created by hacking into that poor woman’s cloud just to satisfy my bloodthirsty tendencies?

It only mildly satisfied me to see Gerald shitting bricks in front of his entire family while he tried to explain that headline. I had much bigger plans for him, and I was going to execute them. Soon.

“Still working on it.”

“A bit slow, aren’t you?” Her delicate brows pinched together as she wove the