Page 35

The last thing I needed was law enforcement having my information.
Bullets seemed to come from every direction, but I was certain there were only two of them—though more were on the way by now.
I turned, firing blindly. Red splattered across his face and the short stocky man dropped instantly.
I could vaguely make out the other marshall swearing, but his footsteps remained steady as he pursued me.
Another shot and pain ricocheted through my spine, and my lungs burned, screaming for air. That was a broken rib, for sure.
Knowing I needed to end this now, I stopped, turned quickly and fired three shots in rapid succession, the final marshall dropping with a satisfying thud.
“Fucker.”
I swallowed hard, my eyes searching the darkness for signs of another pursuer, but aside from a dog barking in the distance, the neighborhood was silent.
My feet stumbled, but carried me to my car on auto-pilot. My breath rushed out as the door clicked shut behind me, the first step toward freedom. The car roared to life, and I flipped a u-turn, putting as much distance as I could between me and the crime scene, just as porch lights began flipping on up and down the quiet street.
Blood leaked from my wounds, soaking my shirt, my breath sawing in and out in short pants. I needed medical attention—now!
“Mercy” emblazoned above a giant red cross caught my eye and I turned sharply, aiming for the hospital that looked to be less than half a mile away.
The parking lot was quiet. I pulled around to the emergency entrance, scanning the few faces that passed; not quite sure what I was looking for. Still, I knew I would know when I found it.
The tires chirped against the pavement, halting the car as she stepped out of the hospital.
It wasn’t the white lab coat that fluttered in the gentle breeze. Nor the killer body topped with shoulder-length blonde curls. No, it was her eyes that caught my attention. I was good at reading people, which was why I avoided most of them.
“Hey,” I called out.
Her head swung left, then right, before settling on me. Her brows scrunched together, her hand coming up to her chest. “You talking to me?”
I suppressed an eye roll and the urge to make a De Niro reference, instead nodding my head.
Her steps were tentative, far slower than I had time for, but this wasn’t something I could rush—not if I wanted this to work in my favor. Finally, she stopped a few feet from the car.
“I need help.” I said, allowing every bit of pain I felt to seep into my voice.
She hooked her thumb over her shoulder toward the emergency room, but froze as her eyes landed on my shoulder wound.
“Not here.” I said quietly.
She nodded, her eyes scanning the parking lot for only a few heartbeats before walking around and dropping into the passenger seat of my car.
The car lurched forward at the sound of her door clicking shut. My vision blurred as she pressed on my shoulder.
“Fucking hell!” She swore, reaching into her bag and pulling out another white towel and pressing it to the wound in my chest.
“Who the hell did you piss off?” she practically growled.
“The less you know, the better.” I ground out.
“Mmm. Just the two holes, or do I need to look for a third?” she asked, her tone clipped.
“Pretty sure it’s just the two, but once the adrenaline gets going…”
“Yeah. Yeah. I know. You assholes think you’re invincible.” She muttered.
“Might want to watch how you talk to me.”