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I’ll do it myself!” I yelled, interrupting Doc and Wild Card from their argument of whether I should go to the hospital.

Wild Card grabbed the suture needle and thread, loading the needle.

“Don’t even think about it,” Doc said, pushing Wild Card out of the way. “The wound needs to be cleaned first.” Doc sanitized my side with a saline solution and added an antibacterial cream, before taking the needle and thread. “This is going to hurt.”

“She can handle it,” Wild Card said, crossing his arms over his chest and focusing on me. “What happened?”

“The same asshole who was at the pharmacy hid in one of the rental vans and jumped me when I walked by.”

“At Headquarters? In front of everyone?”

I hissed between my teeth as Doc pulled a long length of thread through my skin. “We were between the vans. No one saw us.”

Wild Card used his index finger and thumb to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Do you know what direction the guy ran?”

“I know where he is. It’s under control.”

He released a long breath, relaxing his shoulders.

The front door of Alex’s house opened and Bridget walked inside. “Why are you lying on Alex’s kitchen floor, bleeding?”

I hissed again at the pain. “I figured it would be easier to clean the blood off the vinyl floor.”

“That looks painful,” Bridget said, leaning over to watch Doc. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain later. Keep the family distracted until I get myself straightened out.”

“I was just going to grab a sweatshirt,” Bridget said as she walked toward the hallway. “I’ll grab you one, too.” She returned a minute later and tossed a spare sweatshirt to Wild Card. “You going to keep an eye on her?” Bridget asked him.

“I’ll babysit Kelsey if you watch the kids,” Wild Card said, nodding.

She walked toward the door. “A group of us are taking the kids into the field to play with Storm. Give us five minutes, and the house will be clear.”

Doc clipped the excess thread as the door closed behind Bridget. “That should do it. Should I even bother to give you care instructions?”

“Waste of time,” Wild Card said, leaning over and helping me up. “She already knows them, and we both know she’s not likely to follow them.”

As Wild Card grabbed some paper towels to clean the floor, I threw my shirt in the trash and grabbed a package of bandages from my med kit. I used a wet paper towel to wipe off the worst of the blood on my side and hip, before loosely taping a bandage over the wound to prevent staining the next outfit. Doc helped me put on Bridget’s zip-up sweatshirt.

“Now what?” Wild Card asked, throwing the bloody paper towels he’d used into the trash and pulling the trash bag.

I ignored his question and turned to Doc. “Thanks for the house call. I’ll send a check next week to the clinic.”

Doc waved a hand dismissively as he walked toward the door. “Donations are welcome, but we’re doing fine these days thanks to your support.”

I looked over at Wild Card. “I need to grab some clothes for later. Can you pull the van into the garage and lock the garage down?”

“You sure? I can make the van disappear.”

“No. I might need the van and its cargo.” I walked down the hall.

It was obvious when I opened the door to the spare bedroom that Bridget was staying in this room. Her clothes were scattered on every piece of furniture in piles. When I walked across the room to the closet, it made more sense. Packed full of designer fashion labels, the closet didn’t have an inch of space to spare. Alex had always squirreled away clothes for me, but I would’ve never guessed he’d become this obsessed with it. From ballgowns to sundresses to business suits, there was an outfit for every occasion. I had to dig around for a good five minutes before I found a navy suit and white blouse. I started to bend to find shoes, but I winced when my stitches tugged tight.

“Don’t be a fool,” Wild Card said, pulling me gently away from the closet. “What am I looking for?”

“Navy high heels.”

Wild Card flipped the lid off several shoe boxes before he held up a pair of shoes.

I shook my head. “Those are royal blue, not navy.” I pointed to another box at the end. “What’s in the Valentino box?”

Wild Card lifted the navy and white shoes out of the box, holding them up for me to see.

“Purdy,” I drawled as I took the shoes.

“I don’t get why women wear heels. Looks painful to me.”

The thought of how much Grady would enjoy me in the heels—without a stitch of clothing—crossed my mind. I turned toward the door as my cheeks pinked. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” Wild Card asked as he followed.

“I’m hungry. Let’s see if anyone made lunch,” I answered, walking toward the front door.

“And just leave the van and the dead guy?”

“Yup.”

“What on earth are you scheming?”

“Still working out the details,” I said as I pointed to my head.

~*~*~

Wild Card took the bag of trash to the burn barrel, while I went to the house. I used my keys to unlock the atrium side door. Abigail’s nanny was peeking around the corner to see who was entering my bedroom, while holding Abigail.

“It’s good to be cautious, but next time if you’re not sure who’s entering, take Abby and run.”

“I thought it was you, but with the sweatshirt’s hood up, I couldn’t be sure.”

“It’s fine. I should’ve used the front door, but I keep forgetting you guys are in here.” I threw the clothes on my bed before reaching over and tickling Abigail’s feet. She squealed and drooled, kicking her chubby little legs.

“Will

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