Karma Doesn’t Sleep The Revenge Queen Rises novel Chapter 539

Shane had shown Amelia Levi’s wanted poster once. On his computer, there were photos of other Class A fugitives, too. Amelia had a knack for remembering faces—she hardly ever forgot an image. And this bald guy standing in front of her was definitely one of those Class A criminals.

Which meant this big guy, along with the Ryan he kept mentioning, were all dangerous fugitives.

As if nearly dying in a car crash wasn’t bad enough, now they were lost in the middle of nowhere and had run straight into three wanted men.

Their luck was seriously something else.

Without thinking, Amelia squeezed Ryan’s arm.

Ryan looked down at her hand, holding onto him so tightly, and gently patted her hand to comfort her.

Amelia glanced up, meeting the depth of his dark eyes, and somehow felt steadier.

“This lady’s a doctor. Let’s have the two of them come home with us and help out,” the big guy announced.

Amelia’s worry shifted to Ryan’s injured leg.

“My husband’s hurt. He can’t walk very far,” she said, voice unwavering.

“It’s not far, just over that ridge. A mile at most,” the bald guy cut in, already sounding impatient.

Amelia knew Ryan was only standing because he was forcing himself.

“I can handle a mile, but my husband can’t,” she replied firmly. “Either you find a cart for me to pull him on—I’ll do it myself, you don’t have to help—or you can carry your brother over here instead.”

Ryan couldn’t take his eyes off Amelia’s face. She stood half a step in front of him, small and fierce, shielding him while bargaining with two huge men armed with rifles and machetes.

Right now, his princess was more like a knight.

Ryan’s gaze dropped to where her hand gripped his. Something sharp stabbed at his heart—not pain, but something so intense it left him breathless. It felt dangerously close to happiness.

He’d give anything for that feeling.

Eventually, the big guy gave in. The bald man left for a bit and came back with an ox pulling a homemade wooden cart—probably something they used for hauling vegetables. Ryan was settled onto it, and the entire way, Amelia never let go of his hand.

Soon enough, led by the big man, they arrived at an old, hidden farmhouse.

Amelia hadn’t expected anyone but the three brothers, but there was a woman there too. She looked about thirty, with sharp, fox-like eyes and a tough, worldly air. The bald guy called her “sis-in-law.” She had to be with the big guy.

When the woman’s gaze lingered on Ryan, Amelia quietly stepped in front of him, blocking her view.

She kept her tone polite. “Sis, is there a place where my husband can lie down? He’s hurt and really needs to rest.”

Behind her, Ryan listened to her call him “my husband” again and again, and even now, a smile tugged at his pale lips.

It wasn’t the best time or place, but he couldn’t help liking it.

In the end, Ryan and Amelia got the woodshed, piled with firewood. Their “bed” was just a heap of dry straw.

Amelia helped Ryan lie down as gently as she could.

He couldn’t have been thirty yet, and he was a lot more delicate-looking than the other two.

Sweat soaked his hair and he burned with fever, barely conscious. His left shoulder had a gunshot wound, and the skin around it was raw and infected.

Amelia checked him over and quickly figured out what was wrong.

“He was shot before, wasn’t he?” she asked.

The bald guy’s face darkened, but the big man answered coolly, “Yeah. The youngest shot him by accident while hunting. I dug the bullet out myself.”

It was a terrible excuse—nobody would try surgery at home instead of going to a hospital for something like that.

But everyone here was smart enough to let the lie slide.

Amelia said, “You didn’t get all the bullet fragments out, and you didn’t disinfect things properly. Now the wound’s infected and he’s got a high fever. I’ll need to cut out the rotten tissue and take out the shrapnel. Do you have any medicine or surgical tools?”

The woman called “sis-in-law” sauntered in, hips swaying, and dropped off a first aid kit.

Amelia opened it. To her surprise, it was well stocked—antibiotics, painkillers, the works.

“These will be enough to save your brother,” Amelia said, “but I need something in return. My husband needs medicine too.”

This time, before the big guy could answer, the woman agreed right away, grabbing a pack of pills.

“I’ll take your man his medicine. You just save my brother.”