Chapter 3
3
GAVIN
G avin gripped the steering wheel as the hospital loomed closer and closer. He pulled into the ER’s parking lot and strode inside. As he wasn’t related to Roxie, the staff was unwilling to allow him beyond the security doors. Gavin placed another call to the head of ER.
“John? The gal I called you about? They have her in the back and won’t let me through.”
“That’s standard procedure, Gavin.”
“I understand, but she’s a friend of Reed’s sister. She’s concerned. If I can just tell Keely I saw her and spoke to those who are looking after her…”
“Give me a few minutes and I’ll call you right back.”
Gavin paced the floor as he waited for what seemed like an interminable amount of time. Finally, John called back.
“I’ve talked to the doctor who’s managed to confirm that it appears that the fall gave her a concussion. Somebody will be right out to take you back.”
“Thanks, John. Next time you’re at the club, I’ll buy you a drink.”
The doctor laughed. “I’m going to hold you to that.”
Gavin ended the call, placing his phone back in his pocket and waited. He went back to pacing as he waited. The ER got busier, and no one came to get him. When one of the staff nurses went through, nobody challenged him as he walked through the security doors right behind her. He looked up at the whiteboard by the nursing station and located Roxie’s room. He heard Roxie before he got to her room.
He opened the door just wide enough to slip inside. The antiseptic smell and bright lights brought back unpleasant memories and seemed to irritate Roxie more than her injury. Gavin stayed quiet as Roxie gave terse answers to the woman trying to finish filling out the paperwork, betraying her frustration and most likely pain with each word.
“I’m fine,” she snarled. He kind of liked that she was feeling well enough to be difficult and wasn’t intimidated by the medical staff. “I want out of here. You can’t keep me against my wishes.”
“Maybe they can’t, but you and I both know I can,” he said, lowering his voice. “Settle down and let them do what they need to do.”
“You’re not the boss of me…”
“Oh, but I am. I’m also the guy picking up the bill so hush.”
She actually managed to look shocked. “You can’t coerce me…”
“I’m pretty sure I can,” he stepped closer so only she could hear him. “And I have a whole club full of discipline and punishment devices so knock it off and settle down.”
Roxie huffed, but a blush ran up her cheeks even as she lifted her chin defiantly. Gavin fought the urge to grin. Beneath her irritation, there was a fire he couldn’t ignore—a fierce personality that tugged at him in a way he hadn’t expected. Why hadn’t he taken more notice of her before? He’d watched her watch some scenes and handle clients with a quiet authority.
“I think we can let you sit up,” said the attending nurse reaching to help her.
“I can do it by myself,” she said, batting away her hand.
“No one said you couldn’t, but there’s nothing wrong in taking a little help.” Gavin stepped forward and took her hands to steady her. She was moving on her own, but her movements were slower than she probably realized.
A short while later, Roxie sat perched on the edge of an exam table, her arms crossed as a nurse shone a penlight in her eyes. Gavin leaned against the wall, his arms folded, watching her with quiet intensity.
“I’m telling you, it’s just a bump,” Roxie said, flinching as the nurse dabbed antiseptic on the cut at her temple.
The nurse glanced at Gavin, then back at Roxie. “You should still get a scan to be sure there’s no internal damage.”
“She’ll get the scan,” Gavin said before Roxie could argue.
Her head she said turning toward him, her eyes narrowing. “Excuse me? I’m right here. I can make my own decisions.”
“Of course, you can,” he said evenly. “You just keep making bad ones, so I’m stepping in.”
The nurse bit back a smile and left the room, giving Roxie space to unleash her indignation.
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Mr. Briggs.” She pointed at him, the motion making her wince.
“Gavin, and you didn’t have to ask,” he said, pushing off the wall and stepping closer. “Look, I get it—you’re tough, you’ve got something to prove. But tough doesn’t have to mean stupid.”
Her cheeks flushed, and Gavin couldn’t help but notice the way her lips pressed into a thin, stubborn line. It was both maddening and alluring.
“You don’t know me,” she said, her voice lower now, laced with frustration.
“Not yet,” he replied, holding her gaze.
The air between them crackled, and Gavin felt his pulse quicken. Despite her irritation—and his own growing suspicion about what had happened—he couldn’t ignore the way her presence pulled at him. Her spiky hair framed her face in a way that made her eyes stand out, and even sitting on an exam table, she exuded a fiery confidence that was hard to look away from.
The doctor entered, interrupting the moment. Gavin stepped back, his expression neutral again, though the negative energy lingered in the room.
As the doctor examined Roxie, Gavin’s thoughts drifted to the studio. He replayed the sight of the broken pole mount in his mind, the uneven scratches on the metal, the way it had seemed tampered with.
It wasn’t just an accident.
“Looks like you’ve got nothing more than a mild concussion,” the doctor said, breaking Gavin’s train of thought. “We can get you a CAT scan, but I don’t know that you need it, and there’s a back-up…”
“I’ll pass,” said Roxie.
“Okay, but you’ll need to take it easy for a few days—no strenuous activity, no work, and definitely no pole dancing—and call us if you’re feeling worse or don’t start to improve.”
“Great,” Roxie muttered, her sarcasm biting. “Everybody is a comedian.”
“You can get dressed and head out once the nurse brings your discharge papers,” the doctor said before leaving, “but you’ll need someone to stay with you at least overnight.”
“Not happening,” retorted Roxie.
“Someone needs to wake you up every couple of hours,” explained the nurse.
“I like my privacy.”
Before the nurse could argue, Gavin said, “Not to worry, Doc. We’ll get that covered. I’ll set an alarm on my cell and call Roxie every two hours. If she doesn’t answer, we’ll kick in the door to check on her.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Roxie.
“Try me,” Gavin replied.
Roxie didn’t say anything, but the growl she made ensured he knew how she felt about what he was doing. It really was kind of cute and very, very sexy the way she truly believed she could take him on.”
“Yes, we do or I’ll have the doctor admit you…”
“You’re a bully.”
“I’m a Dom,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you leaving the hospital or not?”
“Leaving.” Roxie swung her legs off the table, wincing slightly and swaying as Gavin reached for her and she swatted his hand away. “See? Just a bump. Happy now?”
Gavin’s eyes softened, but his tone didn’t. “Not even close.”
She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I don’t buy the idea that it was just bad luck. That pole didn’t come down on its own.”
She stared at him, her expression shifting from irritation to something more uncertain. “You think someone did this on purpose?”
“I think someone wanted it to look like an accident,” he said, his voice steady.
Roxie blinked, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the hospital blanket. “Why would anyone want to hurt me?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out.”
For the first time, Roxie didn’t argue. She just stared at him, her gaze searching his face. Gavin resisted the urge to reach out, to brush a stray strand of hair away from her forehead. Instead, he stepped back and crossed his arms, giving her the space she clearly needed.
“Get dressed,” he said, his voice softening slightly. “I’ll drive you home.”
Roxie nodded, her expression unreadable. As he turned toward the door, he felt her gaze on him, and the pull he’d felt earlier returned, stronger this time.
“Cowboy,” she said softly, stopping him in his tracks.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
He nodded once, not trusting himself to say more, and moved out to the hall, his jaw tightening. This woman was trouble—and not the kind he was used to handling. After making a few phone calls, he stepped back into her room, leaning against the doorway.
Gavin’s arms were crossed as he watched her fiddle with the bandage on her temple. She looked irritated—no surprise there. She’d spent most of the day either arguing with him or rolling her eyes.
“Stop glaring at the nurse’s handiwork,” he said, his voice dry. “You’re lucky you got out of there with just a bump and a cut.”
Roxie glanced up at him, her lips pressing into a thin line. “You’re still here?”
“Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t bolt before they clear you to leave.” He stepped inside, his boots clicking softly on the tile floor. “Besides, I’ve been busy.”
Her brow arched, and he caught the flicker of suspicion in her eyes. “Busy with what?”
“Looking into that little ‘accident’ of yours.”
Roxie sighed and leaned back against the bed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Here we go.”
“You want to hear what I found, or are you gonna shut me down before I start?”
She gestured vaguely for him to continue, though her expression screamed let’s get this over with .
Gavin pulled out his phone, scrolling through the pictures he’d taken at the studio. He handed it to her, his finger hovering over the screen. “See this? The base of the pole.”
Roxie’s eyes darted to the image, her brows furrowing as she studied it. “It’s broken. So what?”
“Not broken. Tampered with.” He pointed to the jagged edges and the small grooves near the bolts. “Someone loosened it. The scratches here? They’re fresh. Whoever did this wanted it to give out the way it did—quick and clean.”
Roxie handed the phone back, her lips tightening. “That doesn’t prove anything. Maybe it was just wear and tear.”
“It’s deliberate,” Gavin insisted, slipping the phone into his pocket. “This wasn’t just bad luck, Roxie.”
She shook her head, frustration flashing in her eyes. “And why would anyone want to hurt me, huh? Because I’m such a huge threat teaching pole fitness classes to moms and office workers?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
“Well, stop,” she snapped, sitting forward. “I don’t need some overbearing cowboy Dom playing detective with my life.”
Gavin’s gaze locked with hers, his jaw tightening. “You do realize this is actually what I do for a living, right? You might not think you need me, but someone out there is trying to take you down—literally. So, whether you like it or not, you’re Silver Spur Security’s newest client.”
“I can’t afford you…”
“I haven’t told you what we’ll charge,” he teased waggling his eyebrows at her.
Roxie’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away, her fingers curling around the edge of the blanket. “Stop that. Don’t be nice. You don’t even know me.”
“Not as well as I will before this is over,” he replied, his voice steady.
The air hung between them, heavy and charged. Gavin could see the war waging behind her eyes—pride battling with fear. Her stubbornness was infuriating, but damn if it didn’t make her even more compelling.
By the time Gavin pulled up to Roxie’s apartment, he’d already decided she wasn’t staying here without him, his Glock, and preferably an M4. The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows over the cracked pavement and peeling paint of the building. He killed the engine and looked at her.
“Home sweet home,” she muttered, unbuckling her seatbelt.
Gavin leaned back, his eyes scanning the dimly lit lot and the surrounding area. The place wasn’t just run-down; it was downright unsafe. “You live here?”
“Yep,” she said, her tone clipped. “Not all of us have fancy ranches and big trucks.”
He ignored the jab, his gaze lingering on the broken streetlamp near the entrance. “You’ve got a door that locks, at least?”
“Of course I do.” She grabbed her bag and reached for the handle.
“Deadbolt?”
She paused, glancing at him with an exasperated expression. “Yes, Daddy, I have a deadbolt.”
“Don’t call me Daddy,” he said, his tone low.
Her lips twitched, the ghost of a smile breaking through her irritation. “Good night, Gavin.”
“Wait.”
Roxie froze, her hand on the door. She turned back, her brows lifting in question.
Gavin shifted in his seat, his expression softening just enough to catch her off guard. “Be careful, Roxie. If I’m right, and someone’s targeting you, this place isn’t safe.”
She stared at him, her defenses wavering for just a moment. “I’ll be fine,” she said, though her voice lacked its earlier conviction.
“Fine’s not good enough,” he replied.
Her gaze lingered on him for a beat longer than necessary before she pushed the door open and climbed out. “Good night, Cowboy.”
He watched her until she disappeared inside, his gut twisting with unease. Something about her story wasn’t adding up.
Gavin sat in the truck for a while, his phone glowing in his hand as he scrolled through public records and social media profiles. The pieces of her life started falling into place.
Financial struggles—unpaid bills, eviction notices.
Jeremiah Albright—her late husband’s name popping up in police reports tied to gambling.
The in-laws—owners of a string of successful businesses, but their hostility toward Roxie wasn’t hard to trace in old legal filings and local gossip.
A clearer picture emerged, one that left Gavin with more questions than answers.
Gavin called the office and assigned a twenty-four-hour watch on her apartment. She wasn’t to leave without someone following her, and the team was to run the plates of any cars that either were in the parking lot or showed up. If something looked wrong, they were to move into place to protect her and call him.
As he finally pulled out of the lot, his gaze lingered on Roxie’s apartment in the rearview mirror. Trouble followed her, whether she saw it or not. And until he figured out who was behind it, she wasn’t going anywhere that he didn’t know about.