Page 65 of Devils Cut

"You passed out, I thought it was from the panic attack you had," he confessed. "The EMTs took one look at you and knew something was up."

"Shit, really?" I muttered, trying to process the information. My head felt like it had been split open with an axe, but the thought of Killer pulled me back to reality. "Where's Killer? Is he okay?"

Corvus' smile didn't quite reach his eyes, which held a hint of fear that made my stomach twist in knots. "He's still in surgery. We don't know much yet, but he's young and tough as nails. He'll be alright, Tempest."

I studied his face, taking in every little detail - the way his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched ever so slightly. I knew he was doing his best to reassure me, but that fear in his eyes told me all I needed to know. Things were bad, and there was no sugarcoating it.

"Fuck," I whispered, my hand instinctively reaching for his. I needed the comfort, even if it was just a fleeting moment. "What about the others? Are they okay?"

"Everyone's accounted for," he said, squeezing my hand gently.

“You need to rest Princess.”

"Fine," I conceded, knowing he was right. My body felt like it had been run over by a truck.

"Corvus," I choked out weakly, "is it over? Is Greg gone?"

Corvus looked me dead in the eyes, his expression serious and unwavering. "Princess, you can't come back from a blown-out head. Hammer did a good job, I promise."

The thought should have disgusted me, but it didn't. Instead, I felt relief wash over me, finally free of that sick bastard. A small, genuine smile spread across my face as I revelled in the newfound freedom.

"Are we in trouble with the police?" I asked, the worry creeping back into my voice.

"Princess, we're criminals," Corvus said with a smirk. "If we didn't have a few on our payroll, we'd all be locked up by now. It's okay; it's all taken care of. They have no idea why Greg was at the house. We spun it as someone Killer pissed off, so they won't link to you. But you'll have to lay low and keep that Aussie accent of yours hidden until it all blows over, okay?"

I couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. Me, hiding my accent was downright laughable. "Okay," I agreed, knowing that if Corvus said it was handled, then it was.

"Listen, Princess," Corvus leaned in, his voice low and serious. "When they release you, we'll be going back to my place for a while. Your house is an active crime scene, and they'll want a statement from you. Do you think you could learn an American accent between now and then?"

I thought about it for a moment, the idea of faking a whole new way of speaking made me feel like I was in some sort of twisted spy movie. My lips curved into a weak smile as I let out a quiet laugh. "Oh, I can try, but I'm hopeless at it."

Corvus frowned, clearly deep in thought. He ran a hand over his stubbled jaw, looking for all the world like he was solving the most complex puzzle ever created. I couldn't help but admire the way he seemed so determined to protect me. I owed this man my life.

"Okay," he finally said, his expression shifting into one of resolve. "I'll see if we can get our man to interview you at mine. That way, he won't mention the accent. Leave it with me, Princess. I'll work it all out."

The relief washed over me like a tidal wave, and I knew that I'd made the right choice in trusting Corvus.

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The past day had been a fucking whirlwind, Corvus had managed to get one of his guys to handle the interview, thank fuck for that. But it all went down in the hospital, as they insisted on keeping me overnight for observation.

"Tempest, you're checked out now," Corvus said, walking into the sterile room with a tight smile on his face. "You ready to get the hell out of here?"

"More than anything," I sighed, my voice hoarse from exhaustion. "I'm tired of playing patient."

"Let's go then," he replied, reaching over to help me sit up. His strong arms wrapped around me, providing a sense of security that I desperately needed.

As we made our way to the exit, I couldn't help but think about how different everything was here in America. Back home, the hospital system was free, but here, it seemed like healthcare was a privilege reserved for those who could afford it. I didn't have insurance, and I knew that meant I'd be shown the door as soon as possible.

"Corvus, what about the bills?" I asked hesitantly, not wanting to sound ungrateful but also needing to know.

"Already taken care of," he replied gruffly, his jaw clenched. "You don't need to worry about that."

"Jesus Christ, Corvus." I shook my head. "I owe you my life, my house renovations, my job at the bar, and now a goddamn hospital stay? How am I ever gonna pay you back for all this?"

He stopped in his tracks, looking down at me with an intensity that would've scared me if I didn't know him better. "Tempest, listen to me," he said firmly, his voice low and rough. "You don't owe me a damn thing. You're my old lady."

"Fine," I grumbled, trying to push down the guilt that gnawed at me.

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