Page 74 of Savage Sins

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“My friend needs help.”

He glances down, as if seeing Ellie for the first time. It pisses me off. How dare anyone overlook her?

“Right this way.”

We bypass the bay filled with people being treated and go into a private room. The man motions for me to put Ellie on the exam bed.

“What’s her name?”

“Ellie. Ellie Perrault.”

He squats, so he’s eye-level with her. “Hi Ellie. I’m Dr. Jacques. Can you tell me what happened? Or where you’re hurting?”

A female nurse enters, standing in the corner of the room. What is she doing in here? Ellie doesn’t need an audience. She needs help!

He asks again, “Ellie?”

Ellie blinks, shaking her head.

Jacques looks at me. “Mr. Jafar, might I ask you to wait outside of the room? Sometimes it’s easier to talk when no one is in here.”

Indignation courses through me. How dare he ask me to leave? But one look at Ellie has me relenting. She’s hurt and if I’m what’s holding her back from speaking, then I need to remove myself from the situation so she can get the help she needs.

“Ellie, I’ll be just outside of the door.”

She doesn’t acknowledge me, and stares at her hands. I step outside, closing the door behind me. Fuck. Lifting my phone, I call Razoul. He answers on the first ring.

“Why in the fuck didn’t you take anyone with you, Jafar?”

“I’m at the ER. Ellie is hurt.” I pause, trying to get my rage under control. “Is Al there?”

“Haven’t seen him since he left with her. Do you think he did something to her?”

The thought crossed my mind more than once. He’s hurt women before, but nothing like this.

I say, “I don’t know. If he did, he’s dead.”

“I’ll have him found ASAP.”

“Good. I’ll be in touch.”

I end the call and dial Jasmine.

“I can’t believe you left my phone and bag on that table,” she answers. “What if the waitstaff had stolen it?”

“Ellie is hurt.”

“What?”

“She tried calling you, and when she called for the third time, I answered.” I try not to be accusatory, but I can’t help it. “We’re at the ER.”

“Oh, my god. I’m on my way.”

Ending the call, I drop my phone in my pocket and run my hand over my face. What in the hell is taking so long in there? After ten minutes, another nurse walks up to the door with a bag in her hand.

Dr. Jacques steps out of the room and comes over, a serious look on his face.

I ask, “How is she?”


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