The previous installments to the first chapter of Hitting Black Ice (From Loose Id) are here:
Violence spills into the local ER, catching Hunter and Shawn in the crossfire. In the aftermath, buried passion explodes, pulling them into a hot encounter that leaves both men wanting more. Each man has good reason to keep his distance, but when the past catches up with Shawn, they must run for their lives.
At least they’re running together.
Chapter One/Part Three
“Chuck’s late. He’s usually waiting for you,” Hunter commented.
Hunter didn’t like to leave until Marisa’s husband arrived with their two small girls to pick her up. She opened her mouth to answer, but three gunshots blasted out into the low hum of traffic.
“Shit,” Hunter said. The shots had come from the same direction Shawn had gone.
Screaming and shouting erupted, muted by the buildings that stood between the shots and them. The notorious neighborhood drug corner, open for business day and night, lay in that direction. It sounded like they got who they came for.
Two more shots and the screech of tires followed as a big black SUV came around the corner and passed them. It barely missed Chuck as he pulled into the parking lot with the girls. Chuck leaned hard on the horn.
Marisa dialed 911 as Hunter began the run down K Street, but halfway there, Shawn turned the corner with a young black man dressed in baggy gangsta fashion. He leaned heavily on Shawn, who had an arm slung around him. Hunter recognized the guy as one of the street-corner drug thugs, as Marisa called them. He bled from a wound to his leg, his eyes wild with pain and panic as he limped along.
“Anyone else hurt?” Hunter flung the guy’s other arm around him. Damn if he didn’t hear the screech of that SUV’s tires behind them as it came around again.
“No, just him. Faster,” Shawn urged the wounded man. “They’re coming back.”
“Hurts like a motherfucker. I’m gonna kill those motherfuckers. Motherfucker!”
Marisa ran for the ER, shooing her husband and kids inside, as the big black car turned the corner again. The boom of the bass increased as they lowered the window to take another shot at their prey. Marisa returned with a determined expression and a first-aid bag under her arm.
“Shit! Marisa! Stay back!” Hunter yelled.
“Mommy!” her daughter shrieked from the doorway of the ER. That stopped her cold.
“We’ve got him. Get to cover!” Hunter shouted at her. She turned back, and when she got to the ER doors, Chuck ran out and yanked her quickly inside.
“Fuck it if it hurts. Run for it!” Shawn pulled at the wounded man.
They ran, and gunfire followed, shattering one of the glass doors before it shut behind them. Sirens wailed in the distance, and Hunter hoped it was for them. Some doctors ran up to them and pushed the bleeding man, still cursing and griping, onto a gurney, then wheeled him down the hall to one of the exam rooms.
Shawn stood beside Hunter, watching them go. Hunter grabbed Shawn’s shoulder, shoved aside his open jacket, and found a few small spots of blood.
“Shawn, are you hurt?”
Shawn turned empty eyes on Hunter. He shook his head as if to clear it before looking away again.
“Sure you’re all right?” Hunter persisted.
“Just reaction.” Shawn held up a trembling hand.
Hunter winced. “You did good, kept your head. Saved the guy’s life. Let’s get you something clean to wear.” Hunter patted him, reassuring himself.
Behind the nurses’ station, Hunter opened a drawer full of scrubs and found a shirt for Shawn, who slipped into the men’s room to change. When he came out again, Hunter dropped the hoodie and T-shirt into the biohazard bin.
Shawn flashed an incredibly sexy grin as he shrugged into his jacket, aimed that beautiful blue gaze directly into Hunter’s, and held him there for a heartbeat before turning to leave. “Thanks.”
As Shawn walked away, he raised a hand to Marisa and Chuck arguing in fierce whispers by the nurses’ station. One of their kids waved back, and he nodded. Just before the entrance to the ER, he stopped, and Hunter thought he meant to button his jacket. Then Hunter saw it too.
The big black SUV had been driven up onto the sidewalk in front of the ER. The first police car screeched into the parking lot as two men got out of the SUV—white, older than the wounded drug dealer, heavier and harder looking, with guns already drawn. With the SUV in front of the doors, no one was getting in. And no one was getting out.
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You can find out what happens today here: Hitting Black Ice
Thanks for having me here today, Kate!