“What?” I said, looking up. His eyes were glassy and far away. His skin had paled as he stared down… I followed his gaze…
The blood was mine.
There was a huge chunk of glass sticking out of the top of my thigh. Blood seeped through the fabric of my sweats and was oozing out around the glass where it punctured deeply into my skin.
All I could think was thank God it wasn’t Lucy or Nathan.
As blood continued to pump out of the wound, sliding toward the floor, Nathan stared at it, paralyzed.
“Nathan,” I said, but he didn’t seem to hear me.
“I’m gonna get the medic, Prior,” he said, his voice far away. “I’m not going to let you die.”
Oh God. He was having some sort of flashback from the night his unit was attacked.
“Nathan!” I cried, taking his face between my hands and forcing his gaze away from my blood loss. “Nathan! It’s Honor. I’m fine. It’s just a cut. I’m going to be okay.”
Nathan’s eyes remained glassy and then he blinked. “Honor,” he whispered.
I nodded. “It’s me. I’m okay.”
He swallowed and glanced back down at my leg.
“Don’t look,” I urged, pulling his face back up to mine.
“I… I’m sorry,” he murmured.
My heart cracked. “Don’t be sorry,” I said, squeezing his face. “Everything’s fine.”
“Don’t die,” he said, his whispered words breaking.
“Look at me,” I demanded, swallowing past the enormous lump that lodged in my throat. “I am not going to die. No one is dying tonight.”
Something in him seemed to hear me because a change came over him. He gave a brisk nod and clarity resurfaced in his eyes. He pulled out his cell from the pocket of his jeans and handed it to me. “Get the cops here. Now.”
While I dialed, he reached up into a nearby drawer and pulled out a bunch of kitchen towels. Leaving the glass lodged in my leg, he used one of the towels and tied it just above the wound as tight as he could.
I gritted my teeth while I hurriedly gave the operator the information and my address.
Another bullet slammed into what was left of the glass, and I screamed. Nathan gave a shout and dove on top of me again, hunching himself around me as even more glass blasted into the room.
I felt his body jerk, and I yelled his name.
The operator on the line was saying, “Miss! Miss!” but I couldn’t reply, not yet. When no other shots were fired, Nathan pulled back and I saw the dozens of little cuts from his shoulders all the way to his wrists, and I wanted to scream.
“C’mon,” he said, not even acknowledging the injuries as he pulled me up and once again shielded me as we ran from the room. In the living room, I assured the operator that we were alive and asked her to hurry.
“The police are on their way, ma’am,” she said. “Stay on the line.”
Like I had time to talk. I set the phone down on the coffee table, leaving the line open, and then placed Lucy on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. I grabbed my purse and dumped everything out, reaching for the gun and flipping off the safety.
The sound of more glass shattering had my muscles stiffening. This time it wasn’t coming from the kitchen; it was coming from downstairs, in my office. The sliding glass doors.
He was coming inside.
Nathan rushed over to where his jacket hung on the railing and pulled a pistol out of his pocket and a knife out of his boot.
Then he tossed me the keys to his Jeep. “Take Lucy and get outside. Get into the Jeep and start it up.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be right behind you,” he said, a determined look on his face.
He was going to face Lex. He wanted me to go outside while he went and risked his life.
Not gonna happen.
“Nathan,” I said, trying to reason with him. The sound of crunching glass broke off my words, and I knew Lex was in the house. I could hear him knocking things over downstairs in my office as he ripped apart my home.
“Now,” Nathan ordered and grabbed me.
Lucy pawed at my ankle, and I picked her up, cradling her close. I rushed toward the stairs with Nathan leading the way and hobbled down the steps, feeling the sticky ooze of blood all the way down to my ankle.
Just as we reached the landing, a shadow appeared on the wall at the bottom of the lower level of the stairs and Nathan reacted instantly, catapulting over the railing and launching himself down the stairwell at our attacker.
“Go!” he roared as I heard the men grunt as their bodies tangled and slid down the stairs.
I wrapped my hand around the handle of the front door. The sound of fists hitting flesh had me spinning around to watch Nathan go at it with Lex, who was dressed in dark clothing with a black cap on his head.
They were so close together, banging into walls, rolling over the ground, that I could barely make out who was who.
And then a gun went off.
32
Nathan
I felt the bullet plow into my skin. I felt the first fiery pain cut into my flesh. And then I shut it down.
No bullet was going to stop me handing this bastard his ass.
I stumbled backward when he plowed into my middle, jamming his fingers in the bullet hole. I bit back a cry and knocked away his hands as I slammed into the wall. He took off through the office door and I pushed up and went after him.
I heard Honor calling my name, but I kept running.
I wanted this guy out of our lives.
Seeing blood rush out of her leg like that almost sent me over the edge. Like a time machine, it transported me back… back to that night when men I loved died. When I was forced to shoot and kill to protect myself. I tried to protect Prior that night.
I failed.
I wasn’t going to fail again.
I rushed over the glass, feeling it cut into the bare soles of my feet, but I kept running. It was dark out in the yard, but my eyes adjusted quickly and I saw Lex leaping over the fence, and I leveled my gun at him and shot off a couple rounds.
Weapons were my job. I didn’t miss my target.
He let out a stark cry and toppled off the fence and hit the ground with a hard thud. With my weapon still drawn, I made my way over to his side, where he was squirming around like a damned pansy.
I kicked him.
I never said I was a nice guy.
He coughed and wheezed; blood spurted out of his mouth and spotted his chin.
There was something about that chin that didn’t seem right…
I kicked the gun out of his hands, and he reached for it, but I stepped on his fingers and bent down. He was still writhing. My bullet hit him in the chest, and I could tell from the sound of his breathing that his lungs were filling with blood.