Not Just Friends (Hot in the City #3) - T. Gephart Page 0,87

focused determination. Considering the guy had a newborn, probably hadn’t slept much, and had made a mercy dash from Brooklyn, he looked surprisingly calm.

“What are you doing here? Why aren’t you home with Quinn and Ava?” Mack focused on North, not having seen him arrive.

“Because I was needed here. Now stand down, Mack. You might be able to take on one of us, but not even you can take on all three.” North wouldn’t back down and we all knew it, the best chance of Mack getting to the hospital was to comply.

“Fine, you drive. But you drive like you have a purpose, North.” He fingered him hard in the chest. “And someone find out where the hell they’re taking her. We also need to call her family.”

“I can do that. Her brother is her emergency contact. I’ll call.” A blonde woman who was apparently the store manager had appeared, trying to reassure Mack. “Go, just get one of your guys to let me know which hospital.”

I was already on the phone as North and Mack left, finding out which hospital the ambulance was going to so I could pass on the information.

“She’s going to New York-Presbyterian Allen on Broadway,” I told the manager, Tibbs texting the info to Mack as I ended the call. “They’re probably going to need to take her straight to surgery.”

The manager nodded, grabbing her own phone as she left me and Tibbs with the cops. It was crazy to think how close Hayden came to dying; the only thing saving her was that Lewis hadn’t just been the worst person alive, but a lousy shot as well. He’d grazed a couple of ribs, hitting her in the chest but missing anything vital. It was the kind of luck you prayed for, and more than often didn’t get delivered.

“We need to get back to Midtown.” I nodded to Tibbs, fisting my keys. “Presley.”

Her name had been enough of an explanation, Tibbs nodding as he followed me back outside to my car.

“You really love her, Jared?”

It was the first time he’d said my real name in years. The sound of it so foreign in his mouth, it almost felt wrong.

“More than I ever thought was possible.” I stopped short, looking him in the eyes before getting into the car. “She’s the one for me.”

He nodded. “Good, because she’s going to need you now more than ever. This shit isn’t going to be over for her even if Lewis is out of the picture. You saw her back at Diablo, she blames herself and she’s going to need someone who is going to stick around. She’s going to say she’s fine because that’s what Presley does, but Brother, she is going to be so far from fine.”

He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know, seeing the weight of responsibility in Presley’s eyes before we’d left the club. It was why it had been so hard to leave, even though I knew she’d be safe.

“I’m in this for the long haul, Justin. I’m not going anywhere.”

He shot me a look of relief. “Then let’s go.”

Presley

“FUCK, FUCK, FUCK.” I paced back and forth in my office, Bennett perched on the desk, watching me.

I’d been going out of my mind until Jared called, every worst-case scenario flashing before my eyes as I imagined poor Hayden with the monster I used to share my bed with.

And then when Jared called, my mental roulette just got worse.

Lewis shot her.

SHOT HER.

Never would I have believed he could do that to someone, let alone a person who was once his sister-in-law. I still couldn’t believe Lewis and Hayden’s ex-husband were brothers. That we were somehow connected by a sad and tragic thread of terrible men.

God, I’d been so stupid.

So fucking stupid.

“Stop doing that. I’m getting fucking seasick,” Bennett grunted. “You heard what they said. She’s going into surgery, she’s going to be fine.”

My feet stopped moving.

Not because I was worried about making Bennett sick, but because he was being so casual. And yes, I knew he didn’t do drama, his resting heart rate rarely getting elevated except when he worked out. It was one of the reason’s I’d hired him in the first place. He was clinical, precise, solution orientated, and basically unflappable.

But Hayden had been shot by my ex-boyfriend.

“You don’t know she’s going to be fine. She could code on the table, she could die from sepsis, she could—”

“And monkeys could fly out of my ass.” He folded his arms across his