Page 79 of Disarming Caine

They marched off to the stairs. Seeing the two of them like this, it was clear they’d grown up together. Two peas in a pod.

“So much blood.” Lucy shuddered, uttering the first words since we’d arrived at the gym.

I took Samantha’s coat off her and lowered her onto the bench by the front door.

She slipped her boots off. “Your place is really nice.”

“Grazie.”

“Does Sam like it? She’s hated every apartment she’s checked out.”

“She says it’s too big.”

A faint smile appeared on her lips. “Sounds like her. I think she should move in here. You two belong together.”

“I’ve tried telling her that, but she won’t listen to me.” I offered her a hand, and she stood. “Perhaps I should have someone else try to convince her?”

She gave a weak laugh. “Do you think Paul’s going to make it?”

“He was stable when the ambulance left. I expect you saved his life.”

Lucy had run from her hiding spot the moment the gunman left, applying pressure on the wound in Paul’s chest, using her own jacket to cover the injury. He’d also sustained gunshots to his leg and arm, but the chest was the worrisome one.

I led her out of the foyer. “Do you want anything to drink? Water?”

She shook her head.

“Let me show you to your—”

“What if the guy in jailwasthe one at your hotel—” Janelle came down the spiral staircase ahead of Samantha. “—but he’d stolen the gun he used from the guy at Mason’s. Or the Mason’s shooter offloaded it after that shooting and your guy picked it up?”

“Fuck!” Samantha’s face was tense. “Possible. It’s all fucking possible.”

“Matching casings mean matching gun. Not matching shooter.”

The two women stopped at the bottom of the stairs, jaws and fists tight. The energy vibrated off them.

“Could it be related to the Constable?” I asked.

“What, you think Irene’s in on it?” Samantha huffed and rolled her eyes, the sarcasm dripping off her. “Maybe she’s hired a hitman to take me out so she can have you.”

Janelle rounded on Samantha. “Who’s the Constable?”

“Thieves can be dangerous. Unpredictable,” I said. “Just look at what happened—”

Lucy let out a small, strangled sob. “You mean Paul might die because I…”

I put my arm around her again. “It’s not your fault. It’s the fault of the man who did this.”

Janelle’s glower grew darker. “Someone tell me—”

“We’re not discussing this right now. The Constable—” Samantha put up a hand and looked pointedly at each of us, then Lucy, whose face had fallen into her hands. “—hasnothingto do with this.”

Janelle frowned. She nodded at Samantha’s not-so-subtle protection of Lucy and surveyed the room. “The entry and way up here are secure. What about the glass wall upstairs or the balconies? Those seem like obvious ingress points.”

“Security glass,” I said. “It’s all attached to the alarm system. And my exterior space doesn’t join with the other penthouse.”

“Good.” Janelle approached Lucy, her tone gentle. “You have everything you need?”