Blacklisted (Loveless, Texas #3) - Jay Crownover Page 0,8

from the Sons of Sorrow, to get us to leave you alone?” Clearing the slate was going to be much easier than I thought. I was gonna kick my own ass for not approaching her sooner.

The lady doctor started to enthusiastically agree. She was opening her mouth to accept the bargain when a window on the late model car I was parked next to suddenly exploded in a shower of glass. A loud pop filled the air and Top yelled, “Gun!” at the same time he dove for cover. Another window shattered, and I moved without thinking and with years of training and instinct guiding me.

I grabbed the doctor by the wrist and pulled her to the ground. Immediately covering her smaller frame with my own, I inched us closer to the car, hoping I could use the front end as cover, while Top pulled out his own weapon and returned fire.

I could feel the woman underneath me quivering in fear, but she stayed still and silent, her hands curled around the leather of my cut. It wasn’t totally uncommon that I had to dodge bullets, but this was the first time I wasn’t sure who the target was, me…or her.

Chapter 2

Presley

I hated hospitals. And most doctors.

They reminded me of all the hours spent by my mother’s side while she got sicker and sicker. I hated the defeat and resignation that was always on her face when they told her there was little they could do for her without a transplant. And I equally hated the cold and detached way all her doctors delivered what was basically a death sentence. She was on the donor list, waiting and waiting. Of course, I’d been tested to see if I was a match, but I wasn’t. And we didn’t have any extended family or close friends who could step up to the plate. Well, we had Ashby, and she’d gotten tested at the same time I had, but she wasn’t a match either. Not that I believed she would’ve gone out of her way to save my mother’s life now that I knew what kind of person she really was.

My unease with the entire medical process was one of the main reasons I was more comfortable with the dead than the living. I dealt in hard facts and evidence, not possibility and probability. I’d had enough of hinging all my hopes on the hint of a miracle. None of the patients I had on my table in the morgue were going to break down and fall apart under my care. I was with them at the end of their journey. I did my best to send each and every one of them off with as much respect and reverence as possible. My mother never understood why I worked so hard to get through med school only to end up working with the dead. I never had the heart to tell her she was the main reason behind my decision. Years and years of watching her suffer and not getting anywhere solidified the knowledge that I wasn’t cut out for a career filled with heartache and loss. The dead were easier on my heart than the dying.

The tiny emergency room in Loveless was busy, as any ER tended to be. I tried my best to assure the sheriff’s deputy who showed up shortly after the shots were fired that I didn’t need to see a doctor. I’d hit my head on the ground when Shot pulled me down to the asphalt, and I was pretty sure I had a slight sprain in my wrist from the force he used to pull me to safety, but neither injury was serious. I even pulled the “I’m a doctor” card, but apparently being the sheriff’s half sister trumped my medical training. The deputy refused to let me go after a brief questioning as the parking lot was suddenly swarmed by what seemed like the entire Loveless Sheriff Department. No matter how vehemently I insisted that I was fine, the deputy was just as adamant I get both my head and hand checked out. He seemed to believe his job would be on the line if Case found out he didn’t go the extra mile in looking after my well-being.

It seemed futile to explain I wasn’t actually part of that legendary Lawton bond, so I caved and let them rush me off to the emergency room, all the while fuming that both bikers who’d been caught in