The second Chloe's name flashed on my screen, a cold premonition settled in my gut. I knew something was wrong—I just didn't realize how wrong. I expected a domestic crisis, perhaps something with the boy, but the shocker she delivered nearly stopped my heart. Masked men were terrorizing the hospital. Marcus's life was hanging by a thread.
I didn't even wait for her to finish the sentence. I cut the call, the adrenaline already turning my blood to ice. I was still at the penthouse Chloe used at her own hospital, and Marcus's facility was only minutes away. Had I wasted a single heartbeat there, Marcus would have been dead meat by the time I arrived.
I tore through the streets, my tires screaming against the pavement, but nothing prepared me for the sight of the surgical wing.
