Raiden (The Kent Brothers #2) - A.M. Hargrove Page 0,13
big hit. That’s where the blast concentrated. But let’s not dwell on that. Two days ago I would’ve said it didn’t stand a chance and now look at it. I’m pleased with the color.”
“But you just pulled the dead skin off.”
“Yes, but see here?” He pointed to two pink spots. “This is what we look for because it shows good blood flow. It wasn’t there yesterday.”
“Yeah, I see it now.” Raiden was inspecting his finger, turning his hand around and checking it out.
“Are you done looking because I need to get it wrapped again?”
“Oh, sure.” He held it out for the doctor to do his thing. When the bandages were on, he told Raiden he’d see him the following day.
Gently touching his wounded finger, I looked up into incredible eyes, aquamarine with the thickest black lashes any girl would kill for. When he glanced down at my hands, those dark fringes fanned the crests of his cheeks. He hadn’t shaved in a while, and he wore his sexy scruff better than most. A powerful jaw that supported firm yet soft lips was almost more than I could take. This man ramped up my desire like rocket fuel to the space shuttle. I’d met three of the Kent brothers and had seen the fourth because he was a quarterback for a pro football team. An extraordinary gene pool had gifted them. All of them were gorgeous, but Raiden was extra blessed. God himself must have sculpted his body. The man was utterly perfect. Or maybe it was me. No doubt we had chemistry and tons of it. He lit me up and each time I’d think this was it. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Our sexual encounters only made me want him more.
“What’s put that scowl on your face?” he asked.
“Thinking about the bastard who did this. Why?”
“We’ll find out. I’m glad you’re okay and nothing more serious happened.”
Another knock on the door and his brother, Cruze, strolled in, a motorcycle helmet stuffed under one arm. He wore tight jeans with a leather jacket. “Hey guys. Should’ve guessed you’d be here, Scottie.”
“Nice to see you too, Cruze.”
He smiled, and I noticed for the first time it wasn’t all there. He appeared preoccupied. I noticed deep lines next to his eyes that hadn’t been there before.
“What’s up, bro? I thought you were going to South America.”
“Canceled it. Getting the office squared away. The explosion did a number on yours. It destroyed the table, rug, sofa, and some other things. We have to replace everything.” He scratched his chin. “After the bomb experts finished with their examination, they couldn’t believe you two weren’t hurt worse than you are.”
I stepped closer to Raiden. “Have they found anything out yet?”
Cruze scoffed. “Yeah. The dude got his wires crossed. Apparently, he didn’t connect them as he should have, which saved your lives, along with the rest of the executive floor. And it was a good thing I didn’t open the box sent to me or I wouldn’t be standing here because he got that one right.”
Raiden let out a breath. “No shit.”
“Yeah. It was bad. Someone wanted us both dead. They wanted it to be a loud message. Isla’s convinced Aiden O’Brien is behind it. Drex isn’t so sure. He thinks Aiden cut and ran back to Ireland. They’re researching for him now.”
“They’d better move fast because if it was O’Brien, he won’t stop at one try. He’s a vicious motherfucker.” I stared at Cruze and he nodded. This was worse than I first thought. It wasn’t a pissed-off client or someone else who wanted revenge. These guys were professional killers, and the fact that this bomb had missed was a total shock.
Grabbing my IV pole, I went for the door.
“Where are you going?” Raiden asked.
“Home. I’m releasing myself. I need to start the investigation on this before they try something else.”
Chapter Six
Raiden
Everyone was pissed off at me, including myself. Belligerent, hostile, antagonistic, were terms that described me best. The doctor refused to sign my hospital release papers and when I threatened to leave anyway, Cruze said he’d change all the codes to the building so I wouldn’t be able to enter.
“Raiden, don’t even think about it. Your hand is important.”
“Agreed, but it’s fine. Only one finger’s at risk.”
“In other words, you don’t give a damn if you lose it?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m intelligent enough to know if they take a turn for the worse.”