“She started it,” Ghost says, pointing across the room.
“You called her a little girl. This is about the two bodies she took off your hands,” Echo replies flatly.
“She had no right. That was club business.”
“And you all know I’m going back,” I interrupt, walking toward the door. “You deal with him.”
When I return to her room, she’s already standing with the help of her crutches, clearly trying to make a point.
“Not happening,” I say, grabbing the wheelchair beside her. The look she gives me could kill.
“Is this a joke?”
“No. It’s not. You won’t need it at the club, but you’re not walking the entire hospital on crutches. So it’s the chair or I carry you.”
She folds her arms and stares. “Oh, so you’re going to carry me? That involves putting your hands on me, Knox.”
I blink at her.
