Born Wrong Read Online Free Page B

pushy guys like this from the club. What I'm not used to is a 9mm pressed into my stomach while Mr. Freaky Reek-y there casts his glance down the line and smiles. “I'm going to be needing your assistance here shortly.” I figure if the man's crazy enough to bring a gun into a hospital, he's crazy enough to use it, so I don't give lip. Even though I want to. Even though I really, really want to.
    Turner takes care of that for me.
    “The fuck are you?” he snarls, fists curling tight at his sides. I hope he doesn't explode on tall, dark, and screwed the eff up. I don't want to die here, not surrounded by linoleum and white, white walls. I want to die in a waterfall, curled up in a barrel and laughing while I go over the edge. Niagara. It'd be nice if I died in Niagara. “And what's stopping us from screaming bloody murder and getting your ass hauled off to jail?”
    I grunt as the man pulls me into a violent hug, digging the gun even further into my side and breathing hot breath down the back of my neck. My skin twitches and my mouth goes dry. Bad News Dude does not get the blood pumping. He's fit, and he's got a nice face, but his aura stinks. I stand stiff as a board, disoriented from seeing Trey, surprised because the first thing that happens to me when I step off the elevator is this. Why the fuck am I even here? I keep a disappointed groan to myself. I'm all Trey has. That's it. It's just me and him now. Even an overhyped rock star needs family.
    “Because if you scream, she dies, and everything else around you falls apart.” The Tyler guy pulls back from me and withdraws his weapon, just enough that it's hidden in the folds of his voluminous coat, not so much that I can pretend it's not there. I've got a $20,000 check from Trey sitting in my glove compartment. Might just cash it this one time. Little Brother kind of owes me for pain and suffering. “Lola,” he states, like the name should mean something other than a simple address.
    Ronnie's lady makes eye contact with the man and then takes a step forward. Ronnie tenses and squeezes his hands by his sides, but he doesn't move to stop her. What in the frigid depths of hell is going on here?
    “Tyler, this is … unexpected.” Lola looks nervous, like somebody just punched her in the twat. I've had it happen before and let me just say, it makes the mind go wobbly and the legs turn to dust. Lady bits are not punching bags. “What in the bloody fuck of fuck are you doing here?” Tyler just smiles with big teeth and says nothing, turning and sliding his arm around my waist. Kind of wish I wasn't wearing a halter top at the moment. The places where his bare fingers touch my skin feel hot, like I've just developed a nasty rash. Major fucking eww, dude. I look up at the ceiling and try to stay calm. Nothing bad can happen to me right now. It just can't. I'm finally getting my life together. I've got the photo shoot coming up, a fat ass paycheck in the works, and the spark of a career – a proper one this time. No more scraping up dollar bills and shaking my tits for fatties with garlic breath. I get to say goodbye to lap dances and hellooooo to photo shoots and pampering, from an apartment to a house. So things are going to be alright because it just has to be that way. It's my turn now and I've earned it.
    “If you're going to kill someone,” I say, using humor to lighten the mood. “Make it be Turner.”
    “The fuck is wrong with you Sydney?” he growls as he shuffles along behind us. Without even being asked, everyone's trailing along, sweaty and silent. Nobody's calling the cops or motioning for hospital security. Why? Why can't we bust this crazy ass mofo right here and now? Who the hell is he?
    “Sir, I think you'd best rethink this plan. You can walk away now and we'll keep it quiet. We won't press any charges.” Trey's manager, Milo Terrabotti, has a good voice, calm like the sea. He's a nice person, this Milo guy. He sent me flowers on my birthday,