Making Choices (Black Shamrocks MC Book 2) by Kylie Hillman Page A

she’s probably going to run for the hills when we find her.
    Pulling the front door shut behind us, we jog down to where our bikes are parked on the road. As I follow Mad Dog’s weaving trail through the busy streets, I can’t stop the panic that’s trying to choke me from taking hold. I’ve never been one to put a heap of stock in gut feelings, but my stomach’s churning with anxiety.
    The voice in my head is telling me that Beast’s up to something.
    He’s the last person I’d suspect of fucking over the Club.
    His father was a driving force behind its creation, for crying out loud.
    Yet try as I might, I can’t push away my suspicions.

JJ
    Present Day
    A fter being thrown through the door, Maddi stumbles into the room we’re being held in and falls to the ground, rousing me from my light dozing. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I didn’t sleep last night or the night before.
    Exhaustion is something I’m used to with my hectic intern schedule, but the last forty-eight hours have been something else.
    Something I would give every dollar in my bank account to never go through again.
    Noticing that she’s bleeding from a cut to her lip, and that her top’s almost torn from her bruised upper body, my automatic response as a doctor is to jump to my feet to help her.
    Dizziness overtakes me, followed by rapidly rising nausea.
    Leaning one hand on the nearest wall, I swallow a few times, steadying myself before I make my way to her.
    “Maddi, where are you hurt?” I question her as I roll her all the way onto her back.
    Groaning, she opens her eyes and tries to smile. “I’m all right. Just give me a minute.”
    Squatting on my haunches, I run my eyes down her body.
    In addition to her bleeding lip, she has bruising to her neck, and her left eye is swollen. She can still open her eye, and although her top is ripped, she doesn’t appear to have any injuries that I need to tend to immediately.
    “Come on. Let’s get you on the bed.” I hold my hands out to her and help her to her feet.
    To be honest, she’s probably steadier on her feet than I am, because the second I stand, I’m overcome by dizziness and the urge to vomit again.
    Depositing her quickly on the bed, I run to the bathroom and puke in the basin.
    Rinsing my mouth out with the musty-smelling water that runs with reluctance from the tap, I splash some over my face, and stare at myself in the dirty mirror. My face is pale, my eyes bloodshot, and my hair is a disaster. I’m bone weary, the aftereffects of the ether lingering longer than I would have expected. I’ve been wilting for the last few weeks, and last night has sapped the last of my stamina by the looks of it.
    Groaning as my stomach churns again, I make myself breath through it. The last thing I need is to succumb to the sickness that’s been stalking me for the last couple months.
    Once I’m confident that I’m steady on my feet, I walk back into the bedroom.
    Maddi’s pushed herself upright, staring at me with worry-filled eyes.
    “Are you okay?” she asks, drawing her eyebrows together as she takes in my state.
    “I haven’t eaten since lunchtime yesterday. My blood sugar’s dropping.”
    I drop onto the bed, wrapping the gross blanket around myself. My previous objections to using it pushed aside. I feel clammy, sweaty but cold at the same time, and this blanket is the only thing I have to make myself feel comfortable.
    “What happened out there?”
    “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you...” Maddi trails off, closing her eyes and shutting me out.
    I thought we’d made some headway before she was dragged away. Obviously, I’m still on the outside when it comes to knowing what’s going on.
    “Try me,” I urge.
    “Do you ever want to pack up and run away from your life?”
    I wasn’t expecting her to ask me a question, particularly this one, and I’m thrown off guard when I answer her truthfully without thought.
    “All the damn