Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I give her a tight smile, and she heads back around the end of my bed to drop my chart back into place. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair so you can rest. The doctor should be around shortly to give a thorough examination, and from there, we’ll be able to determine when you’ll be able to get out of here.”
“Perfect, thank you.”
“My pleasure, sweetheart. Just call out if you need anything,” she says. “There’s a call button on the side of the bed.”
I give her another small smile as she slips back around the curtain and disappears.
“Don’t know what fucks me up more, Firecracker,” that deep, gravelly voice of my wildest dreams murmurs from somewhere in the room. “You calling me your husband or that name.”
My heart rate spikes on the monitor, and I shove the shitty hospital blanket aside, scrambling out of bed at the sound of his low voice. Only I forget about the IV line tethered to my wrist, and I’m yanked back hard enough to make me hiss as the tape pulls hard. “Shit.”
I backtrack, forcing myself to slow down, as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed properly this time, gripping the IV pole and dragging it closer, before using it to haul myself upright.
My bare feet hit the floor and immediately threaten to give out.
Not good. Perhaps the explosion took a greater toll than I anticipated, and this hospital bed is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
The room tilts, my vision wavering as though the darkness is waiting for another chance to claim me. Hell, maybe my time has come, and the Grim Reaper has finally arrived to settle the score. After all, I’ve been making his job easy these past few years.
Locking my knees, I swallow the darkness, not allowing it to take me until after I’ve thoroughly killed Raiden Kane myself. Then, after steadying myself with the IV pole, I put one foot in front of the other, sailing around the edge of my bed as the cool air hits my ass through the back of the open hospital gown. As soon as my fingers grab hold of the curtain, I yank it back as far as it’ll go.
And there he is, in all his delicious perfectness, Raiden fucking Kane.
My gaze sweeps over him, taking in the casual way he braces his arm behind his head, looking as though he’s on fucking vacation. His body is bruised and broken, just like mine. His arm and ribs are bandaged from the cut I gave him and the bullet wound, but there are also bandages that wrap around his chest, telling me he likely has broken ribs from the impact of the fall.
The bigger question is, how the hell is he lying here with a smirk while not having to wear one of these ridiculous hospital gowns? Which nurse did he have to sweet-talk to get that honor? Hell, it wouldn’t have been hard. The moment Raiden Kane sets his sights on a woman, she becomes putty in his capable hands.
My assessment takes barely a split second, and as my gaze returns to that stupidly adorable face, that familiar rage burns through me. “YOU!” I whisper-yell, throwing myself toward him, awkwardly scrambling across the linoleum as I drag my IV pole along with me. “This is all your fault.”
“My fault?” he laughs, already bracing for whatever the hell I decide to do. “You’re the one showing up in places you weren’t meant to be. If you had butted out of my business, I would have gotten my job done, my way, and been home buried inside of you by now. But nooooo, it had to be the . . . Bianca show, as usual.”
I gasp in outrage because how dare he call me on my own bullshit? Not even Spikezilla would ever be so aggressively daring and audacious.
The longer he grins at me, knowing exactly how he’s getting under my skin, the deeper the fury boils, and the moment it snaps, I launch myself at him, abandoning the IV pole and attempting to finish what I started in that penthouse before the explosion ruined everything.
“Fuck, I hate you,” I say, throwing myself over him, straddling him over his blanket, suddenly completely unaware of how my body aches, but that’s how it always is around Raiden. He has a way of making the real world fade away, leaving only the two of us.
I grab for him, determined to finally finish him off despite how heavy my arms feel, but my movements are so sloppy he barely has to try. One hand stays planted on my bare ass while the other lazily bats my attempts away like I’m a billion-year-old fly with one busted wing.
It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic. And still, I can’t make myself stop. Because being here, trying to kill him, trading blows and insults and heat, is where I feel steady. Being in his arms, even like this, means I don’t have to look too closely at the truth pressing in from every side. That maybe this isn’t just rivalry. That maybe there’s something far more dangerous simmering beneath it, that I’ve been too scared to even consider.