Sweet Pain (The Club #18) by Rebel Adams Read Free Book Online Page A

out. 
    Well. 
    I gathered the precious creature into my arms, heading for my car. I was careful loading her in. Her shoulder was definitely dislocated and the cut on her cheek needed attention. After buckling her in and climbing in myself, I pressed the Bluetooth and asked it to dial. “Call Mak.” 
    Two rings and he answered. “What’s up, Nate?” 
    “I need Doc to come to my house.” 
    “Everything okay?” 
    “I’m fine, but that sub I brought in — ”
    “The prostitute? That Tally nearly banned you for?” 
    I sighed. “Yeah, her. She’s been beaten up something awful, and I would rather not take her to the hospital if I can help it.” 
    “Let me talk to him, and I’ll let you know. Why no hospital?” 
    “Because you just called her a prostitute. And I don’t want them treating her like that.” I hung up. 
    I looked in the rearview as I drove toward my house. Gianna was passed out, and I realized how young she was. I wasn’t old, but she had a touch of deception with her street smarts and attitude. But unconscious, it was easy to see her pretty, young face. 
    It was…odd. Never had I ever felt this close of a connection with a sub this fast. How had one chance meeting with a girl looking to a trick for blow turned me upside down? I wanted to help her — and it wasn’t pity or some sense of obligation that spurred me to that feeling. I looked at her and I saw a young woman that life had shit on, who had a good soul, a natural curiosity for things. In that one night, I felt tied to her. 
    Smirking, I knew she would be pissed that I had been following her. I couldn’t blame her. But I would make sure that no matter what she decided, she would be whole when she left my care. 
    The Bluetooth pinged and read the text to me in its robotic voice. “Don’t ever pull that alpha shit on me, Nate. The doc will be at your house in half an hour.” 
    I grunted. I owed the guy an apology.
     
    *  *  *
    I must’ve been out for hours. My mouth was dry, and my legs were stiff. 
    The pummeling Lonnie had given me came back full force, and I shot straight up. 
    But he was nowhere around, and the move was dumb — my shoulder hurt like a mofo, and my right eye wasn’t opening all the way. Touching my face gently, I felt the shiner there. I saw I was wearing a pair of men’s athletic pants and a plain white T-shirt.
    Looking around, I tried to figure out where I was, but I didn’t recognize a thing. It wasn’t a hospital — the curtains were too nice and there was a rug and wood furniture. It was kind of nice to not smell industrial cleaning products, too. 
    On the nightstand was a huge bottle of water and a cup that I was going to guess had two Tylenol in it. 
    But if I wasn’t in the hospital, where the hell was I? 
    I grabbed the cup and popped the water open, glad someone had thought of it. It seemed safe here. But I could feel the dope sickness starting to tingle in my fingers. I needed a fix, soon. 
    Letting my breath out, I slumped on the bed. What the hell was the point of trying to get a fix when the only thing I’d been chasing all this time was the pain high? 
    Fuck, that was probably the reason I was a junkie. I wanted someone to hurt me and I couldn’t deal with that shit. Total mind fuck. Get high so you don’t want to get hurt. 
    The rush I’d been trying to find for two damn days finally happened when Lonnie slammed me into the wall, dislocating my shoulder. The rush was there. Dopamine. Adrenaline. Sweet fucking pain. 
    I was so fucked up. 
    Abernathy . 
    My brain remembered that detail — he showed up. And it was just about the time Lonnie was going on me. 
    With no warning, I started shaking and crying. Huge sobs that shook the bed and made my shoulder send hot pain through my arm — which turned me on. And that just made me cry harder.
    The door opened a minute later, and Abernathy trotted in. 
    “Hey now, what’s wrong?” He knelt in front of