Now she was dead.
“Linnie,” I whispered and Juno felt my mood and pushed my hand with her nose. I absentmindedly stroked her head as I heard Luke’s phone ring and watched, unfocused and not knowing what to feel (sad, definitely; angry, heck yeah), as Luke pul ed his phone out of his black cargo pants.
“Kitten.” I heard as if from far away, so far away it was like a dream.
It was Mace’s voice cal ing me “Kitten” his nickname for me, a nickname I earned because he said I “purred” when I was content. Normal y this purring happened post-orgasm but there were other times too. I was content a lot when I’d been with Mace. It was something I hadn’t heard in a year. It was one of the seven hundred and twenty-five thousand things I missed most about Mace.
A touch, whisper-soft, slid across the smal of my back and I shivered.
“Linnie,” I whispered again.
Then I watched in distracted fascination as whatever Luke heard over the phone changed his entire body. I was fascinated because I could swear Luke looked scared.
Men like Luke didn’t get scared.
I shook my head and jerked out of my daze.
“I have to get to Buzz,” I said.
“Stel a.”
I took off, walking swiftly across the yard.
As I marched, I heard Luke shout, “Mace! ” and Mace’s name came from Luke’s lips like a bark, sharp and ferocious.
I didn’t let that register, my mind was centered on Buzz.
Then gunshots rang out.
Yes.
Gunshots.
There were shouts of surprise, rapid movement and I saw the dirt around me explode as the bul ets pounded into it around my cowboy boots, one after the other after the other.
For a second I stood frozen, not comprehending this drastic turn of events. Then I felt a stinging burn in my hip and cried out but for some reason my hands went to my head and, unfortunately belatedly, I started to run for my effing life.
I ran two steps before I was picked up at the waist, shifted, thrown over Mace’s shoulder and he ran in a half crouch as the bul ets whizzed around us.
He stopped, wrenched open the backdoor to the Explorer and tossed me in. He made a quick whistling noise through his teeth and Juno jumped up with me jarring me, pain sliced through my hip and I cried out again.
Mace slammed the door almost before Juno’s hind-end cleared it. He got in the passenger seat; Luke was already in at the driver’s side. My dog and I barely settled before we rocketed from the curb.
I hadn’t even noticed Luke starting the truck; it was like he hit the ignition through a mind meld, one with the vehicle.
None of that normal turn the key and go business for Super Cool Luke.
Mace hit a button on the dash and the cab was fil ed with ringing.
Juno woofed just to be part of the action, not wanting to do much of anything just not wanting anyone to forget she was around. This was her way.
I put my hand to my hip. I felt something wet there and pul ed my hand away.
The wet on my hand was dark. Blood.
I’d been shot. Effing hel , I’d been shot.
With a bul et. An honest-to-goodness bul et.
Jesus!
“Um, Mace –” I started, trying not to sound panicky.
“This is Jack.” A voice fil ed the cab.
“One second,” Mace said to me in an undertone.
“Ava just cal ed in, said someone opened fire on her, Daisy, Al y, Indy, Tod and Stevie. They were outside a gay club on Broadway. I lost contact with her in the middle of the cal ,” Luke informed Jack who I also knew from my days as Mace’s girlfriend. He was another Nightingale Man, built strong, tough, solid and scary.
I gasped at this news. Ava and the girls had been shot at? What was going on?
“Copy that. I’m on it,” Jack’s voice replied.
“Someone just shot at Stel a at the scene,” Mace added.
They weren’t shooting at me, were they? My brain asked.
Since I didn’t actual y utter the words, no one answered.
“Fuck,” Jack snapped.
“Cal Lee and check Roxie, Jules and Jet,” Luke ordered.
“Copy,” Jack said.
“Out,” Luke clipped and hit a button on the console while Jack repeated the same word.
“I don’t fuckin’ like this,” Luke muttered and you could sense his fear, clear and edgy, fil ing the cab. He wasn’t even hiding it. His woman had been shot at and not only did he not like it, he was terrified that she was in danger.
Mingled with the out-and-out panic I felt at the general situation, not to mention the fact I was bleeding from a gunshot wound, was a sense of beauty that Super Cool Luke cared about Ava enough to let his tough guy image take that kind of direct hit.
Mace was silent but he leaned forward and pul ed his cel out of his back pocket.
“Um, Mace –” I started again, thinking now the time was ripe to share the fact I was bleeding.
“Two seconds,” Mace replied.