Stefan squeezed my wrist a little. “Keep going.”
“I woke up in the trunk space. Rourke found me, then Dean and Asher. They were trying to help me out of the car when bullets started flying everywhere. Rourke threw himself over me. He was shot. I felt it when it happened. Then I got hit on my side.” My hand dropped from my head to my side. Through the thin fabric of my hospital gown, I could feel I was bandaged there as well. “The guys in the van gave us cover.” I looked to Jamie to ask him if they were okay, but before I could ask, he shook his head. They didn’t make it. “Did they have families?” I barely knew them, but I owed them. They had sacrificed themselves so we could escape.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Stefan ordered.
I nodded. “Dean pulled Rourke and me from the car. We took off on foot. It didn’t take long for our attackers to catch up with us. We’d locked ourselves in the parking garage’s mechanical room. The security guards seemed to be using it as an office and they had a first aid kit, which I used to help stop Rourke’s bleeding. Dean and Asher barricaded the door but two of them were able to get inside. One came right for me, but Dean warned me in time…” I trailed off.
Pushing through the searing pain, I broke down that moment, slowly. I could see Dean perfectly, standing with his back to the door, trying desperately to keep it closed. Both his and Asher’s guns, empty of ammo, had been tossed to the floor. That hadn't seemed to set Asher back as he'd taken on his opponent with his bare hands. I shifted my focus back to my Aryan. He'd paid no attention to Rourke and hadn’t even spared a backward glance at Dean. Why did he come after me and not Dean? Dean had clearly been a bigger threat and the obstacle preventing any more Aryans from getting in that room.
Hold still, Princess. I’ll make this quick. I repeated the Aryan’s words in my head.
“He called me ‘Princess,’” I unintentionally mumbled out loud.
“Who did?” Stefan asked.
“The Aryan. He knew who I was,” I answered distractedly as I remembered the Aryan zeroing in on me.
“Maura,” Stefan said, trying to get my attention.
It worked. The movie that was my memories playing behind my eyes shuttered away and I was back in the small hospital room. My eyes flicked to Stefan. “Did they take the guns?”
“Yes.”
“Why would they follow us down to that room? They got what they came for. Why risk pursuing us?” I asked.
The corner of Stefan’s mouth lifted as he stared at me proudly. “I think the better question to ask is, if they were after the guns, why did they target your vehicle so heavily? The van carrying the guns could have easily taken off, which is our protocol unless my life or…my daughter’s life is ever at risk.”
“You mean to tell me the guys in the van would have just left Rourke there to die if I hadn’t been in that car?” I questioned angrily. Rourke’s life was worth more than fucking guns.
“If they were solely after the guns, they would have primarily targeted the men in the van, not the SUV driving ahead of it.”
Oh. With all that said, if they really had been targeting me, which my gut was screaming they had, it was still speculation. “How’d they know I’d even be in that car? And why would the Aryans want to kill me?”
In one quick movement, Stefan’s eyes shifted to Jamie before returning to me.
“Stefan?” I urged, but before he could answer, Dean returned.
Stepping into the room, Dean held a scowl that was harsher than normal. I was going to ask him what was wrong, but the nurse that appeared behind him gave me my answer. She was elderly with a head full of graying amber hair and purple rimmed glasses that framed her eyes. Her body moved stiffly as she made her way through the room. She glanced around at the guys, eyes full of judgment and disdain.
Only those who lived under a rock didn’t know what the name Quinn meant or who it belonged to. Especially in New Haven, where Quinn Manor loomed over the city like a haunting and infamous shadow. The Quinns had ruled the New England area for generations. People either respected our family or feared and hated us. The respect came because my family, namely Stefan, took part in and donated to many charities. This hospital was a prime example. Stefan was a huge benefactor. I was sure his generosity didn’t always come without strings attached. He was an Irish mob boss, after all. I could only assume that the stipulations included privilege and a certain level of discretion, like turning a blind eye to gunshot wounds that were required by law to be reported to local police. Those who feared and hated us consisted mostly of law enforcement who weren’t on Stefan’s payroll and people like this nurse.
The nurse went straight over to assess the IV machine I was hooked up to and typed something on the computer next to the bed. “How are you feeling?” Her tone was bland, and the question sounded forced.
“I have a lot of pain.”
“You should count yourself lucky that’s all you have, considering your choice of friends,” she said.
I had to stop myself from gaping. “Excuse me?”
“Well, look at what they dragged you into. You were shot and almost killed. Maybe this will teach you not to hang around thugs,” she chided.
If I hadn't been hurting in a hospital bed, there was a good chance I would have strangled her with her stethoscope. My mind was at odds with what it wanted to do versus what it could do in that moment. So I just blinked at her.
“I didn’t know nurses were paid to berate their patients,” Jamie snapped at her.
She looked taken aback for a moment before she recovered. “Let me guess, you’re the boyfriend who manipulated this poor girl to join your thug lifestyle.”
Louie erupted into a fit of laughter. “She thinks Jameson corrupted Maura?” he wheezed. “That’s fucking hilarious.”
Stefan stood from his chair and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He gave the nurse a friendly smile that was kind of eerie because his eyes read differently. They were predatory. He leaned forward slightly and squinted at her name tag. “Georgina Osman. That’s a pretty name. I’ll be sure to remember it. Mine is Stefan Quinn.”
All the blood drained from her face and she took a step back. “Are you threatening me?”
“Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Osman?” he asked innocently. “I was simply introducing myself so you’d know who reported your unprofessional behavior to your supervisor.” He then looked to me. “I know you’re in pain, but I don’t trust her.”
I nodded with understanding.
“I don’t trust you to treat my daughter. Please excuse yourself from this room before I have you removed,” Stefan ordered.
“Your daughter,” she gasped as if just realizing it. Did she not read my name on my chart? She put her hand to her neck as if to clutch her nonexistent pearls.
“In case you were wondering, that was a threat,” I told her. “I’d get your ass moving, Nurse Ratched.”
She huffed and stormed out of the room.
“I need to pee,” I announced.
Dean and Asher beelined for the door while mumbling that they would wait out in the hall.
“I’m going to go find Brody and get you a new nurse,” Stefan said and bolted.