Page 73 of Betrayed

The moment I realized what was happening, I lunged for the gunman. There was so little time, the best I could do to protect Erin and Gregory was to throw myself at him, hoping to grab the gun, or at least, change the aim.

I failed. Erin was hit. And I’ll never forgive myself for that.

The wound isn’t deep. We’re fortunate. I was able to deflect the shot enough so that the bullet aimed at her chest only grazed her side.

The doctor called it an ‘elliptical furrow’ and said the primary risk is infection.

So of course, I have done everything I can, including making Gregory wash his hands every time he enters a room, and gone to war with every invisible bacterium and constant cleaning.

The skin on my hands is raw from bleach.

There’s a basket of candy on the nightstand beside her, all her favorites, courtesy of Gregory. I sit in the corner chair, my usual spot lately, watching her as she sleeps.

She stirs.

“Lucian?” Her voice is small, hoarse. Vulnerable in a way she rarely lets me see.

Must be the drugs. I should give her pain meds more often. Turns my little tiger into a kitten.

I cross the floor and crouch beside her. My fingers push damp curls from her cheek. “You’re safe,” I say softly. “I’m not leaving.”

She moves to sit up on her side. Wincing as she does.

“Stop!” I say, pressing a hand to her shoulder. “Lay back down.”

“Lucian. It was just a graze. I’m eventually going to have to leave this cottage.”

“I’d pin you to the bed if I could.”

“You try.” She smiles. “But I have to get up. By myself. Right now.”

“Why? I can carry you anywhere you need to go,” I offer.

“You know I have to pee sometimes, right? And you taking me to the loo is one thing I’d like to avoid if I can.”

“Fine.” I stand, crossing my arms over my chest to keep myself from scooping her up into my arms.

She groans as she sits up, and I want to push her back down. She smiles when she sees the candy. “Gregory! He’s too sweet. Butyou have to tell him he doesn’t have to. I don’t want him going out of his way.”

“You never want to put anyone out, do you? That’s how we ended up here in the first place.” I reach out a hand to her, helping her up. “Easy,” I say, nice and slow.”

Clinging to my arm, she tries to hide the pain in her face as she stands. “You know my heart was in the right place.”

“Is there anyone you wouldn’t die for, Erin?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “Not if they are important to me.”

“You’re more like us Bachmans than you know.”

“Speaking of,”—her eyes snap up, demanding—“did we get Rory?”

I brush a finger over her cheek. “Not this time, babygirl.”

My chest clenches, the memory of that moment, her leaving my side, throwing herself in front of my brother; there was no thought of Rory after that.

Only her.

I walk her to the bathroom, hovering by the door, watching her brush her teeth.