Curly (Hell’s Handlers MC Florida Chapter #1) - Lilly Atlas Page 0,112

She’d been groping the air, with her eyes squeezed shut and her T-shirt over her mouth as she hacked and coughed. As much as he loved animals, Curly hadn’t given a shit about anything but rescuing Brooke at that moment. But she’d never forgive him if he saved her only to let a dog die. So, he’d flipped the latch on the final kennel and scooped up the pug before dragging Brooke shirtless and filthy into the night.

That span of sixty seconds had shaved ten years off his life.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Curly glanced up into the sympathetic face of a paramedic. His buzzed black hair and round face made him look too young to drive, but the uniform and gear bag spoke to his legitimacy.

“May I check her out?” the paramedic asked.

Last thing he wanted to do was disturb Brooke, but red welts dotted her back along with one nasty-looking mark at the base of her spine. Once the adrenaline wore off, pain would set in, and she’d be miserable. At the very least, he wanted the paramedic to get some pain medication into her.

“Baby,” he whispered against the top of her head. “The ambulance is here, and the paramedics need to examine you. Okay?”

Her heart-breaking sobs had quieted to a soft sniffing with the occasional body-wracking cough. She nodded against his chest. Curly helped her sit, biting his lip as she winced with the movement.

“Ma’am, I’m Brody. Mind I take a look at you?”

“Go ahead,” Brooke rasped as she wiped her damp eyes. The scratchy voice ate at Curly’s heart.

The paramedic worked with quick efficiency. Once he’d assessed Brooke’s oxygen level, he placed a mask over her nose and mouth to provide fresh oxygen. Then he went about checking her burns, explaining his process in a soothing voice. A flashlight gave him a better view of Brooke’s injuries, but it was still difficult for him to fully evaluate the damage.

Brooke sat silently through the exam, only speaking when asked a direct question, but she kept looking around the yard as though counting the dogs. Her hand sifted through Ray’s fur. He was her steadfast anchor in the chaos as he’d been before.

“They’re all there,” Curly said. He ran a hand over her dirty hair. “All the dogs are safe. David just got here. Looks like he and Nancy are rounding them up.”

Speak of the devil. As the paramedic continued to do his thing, Nancy strolled over. “Sweetie?” she asked in the same soft tone she used when soothing a frightened animal at the clinic.

Brooke shifted her devastated gaze Nancy’s way.

Crouching down to Brooke’s eyes level, Nancy ran a hand over her friend’s back. “We’re gonna take the dogs to the clinic to check them all out, okay?”

Before she had the chance to respond, the paramedic interrupted. “Brooke, I’m going to recommend you come to the hospital. Your wounds need proper cleaning and dressing, and you should really be monitored overnight for effects of smoke inhalation.”

As Brooke opened her mouth, Curly shot her a look that hopefully conveyed his opinion on the matter. She’d be going to that hospital if he had to tie her up and toss her in the bed of his truck.

Her shoulders sagged, and a sigh left her, but she didn’t argue. “Okay.” The scratchy rasp at the back of her throat caused another fit of coughing.

“We’ll keep the dogs as long as you need,” Nancy said. “I don’t want you to worry about anything but feeling better.” She shifted her attention to him. “We can take Harley and Ray for the night as well if you’re okay with that.” Brooke shouldn’t be required to make any decisions right then. Shock always made logical thinking difficult.

“Thank you, Nancy,” Curly said, sparing Brooke from having to answer. Instead, she nodded her gratitude. It’d been a long while since he’d had people in his corner. Trusted friends he could count on in a crisis. In prison, friendships shifted like the tides, and no one could ever be fully trusted. He’d seen the closest of men stab each other in the back over a carton of cigarettes—literally.

After blowing a kiss, Nancy walked back to her husband, who sat in the grass holding an oxygen mask over the pug’s mouth and nose.

Another two paramedics wheeled a stretcher into the backyard. “Ma’am, let’s help you on here so we can get you to the hospital. Sir, you’re going to have to drive yourself.”

He almost told them to fuck themselves but settled for

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