Page 66 of Precious Hazard

Son of a bitch. An hour ago, the thought of Riggo saving my life would have been laughable.

“Nice shot,” I holler behind me, aiming at the dying man. The kid has definitely gotten better.

“Why, thank you, darling.”

My head snaps toward the truck’s rear end. Where my wife is standing in the middle of the road, pointing a gun at the now-dead shooter.

Chapter 14

“Will you stop fidgeting?” I snap.

A low grunt is the only response I get.

Rolling my eyes, I resume disinfecting Satan’s shoulder. Luckily, the bullet just nicked him, and the wound won’t need more than a couple of stitches. What a shame.

“Still can’t get over that awalking disastersaved your life, huh?” I look up, meeting Arturo’s narrowed stare.

The lighting in his bathroom is great, illuminating every angle of his handsome face. I have a thing for men with sharp cheekbones, and his look as if they were carved from a jagged stone. And those are not the only parts of him that appear sculpted. With his shirt completely unbuttoned and the sides hanging loose and open, his chiseled pecs are on full display. Mere inches from my face. Close enough for me to feel the warmth of his skin.

As if that wasn’t enough, the guy is sporting a fucking eight-pack. An eight-pack! I thought that was only a myth. Leave it to the devil himself to warp my reality. It truly is a shame that someone so drop-dead gorgeous is such an irritable prick.

“Well?” I prod. “Is that why you’ve been grouchy for the past hour? I totally get it. Must be a terrible hit to your massive ego, darling.”

Another grunt, followed by a huff. Maybe his throat is raw after all the yelling. While we were waiting for the cavalry to arrive, I had to endure his vehement tirade. Right there, in the middle of the desolate road.

It went as well as I might have expected, with an odd curveball thrown in. A lot of,Are you out of your fucking mind?A few,What the hell possessed you?Followed by the surprising,You could have gotten hurt!I seriously doubt that last one was out of any real concern for my well-being. Satan was probably just pissed over a close call where he might’ve had to explain to Drago my sudden imitation of Swiss cheese.Ifit came down to it. But it didn’t, so now I get to deal with the petulant bear instead.

He did relent and give me his jacket when he noticed me shivering in the cold. That was sort of astonishing, considering the timing. I figured that since he was on a roll, he’d also ream me out for once again forgetting to bring my coat. He didn’t. But he did tell me in no uncertain terms that, from that moment on, he was placing the Family on “high alert,” and that I wouldn’t be allowed to go anywhere without a security detail. Then, he clammed up and didn’t say another word. Not while his men descended on us, nor during our entire ride home. It was a bit unnerving, actually.

I look away and tug the fabric of his shirt. “You need to bend down. I can’t reach the—”

Arturo wraps his uninjured arm around my waist, hoisting me onto the bathroom countertop.

“I guess that works, too.” Armed with a needle and thread from the first aid kit, I focus on the tear in his flesh. “You sure you don’t have any local anesthetics?”

Instead of answering, he snatches the bottle of whiskey that he left next to the sink earlier and takes a long drink straight out of the bottle. That explains the kitchen detour before we came upstairs, I guess.

Taking a deep breath, I pinch the sides of the wound and insert the needle into his flesh. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Did your brother teach you to shoot?” His deep voice in the confines of the bathroom almost startles me.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me now?” I lift an eyebrow. “Yes, Drago taught me. Did you teach your sisters?”

“Of course not. Women shouldn’t handle firearms.”

“‘Women shouldn’t handle firearms,’” I say in my best impression of his voice. “Jesus, listen to you.”

He grunts again, and the muscles of his jaw tense.

I can hardly contain my laughter. What would he think if he knew that Sienna is almost as good with a gun as me? Should I tell him? Just to pester him a little more?

My eyes wander to Arturo’s right forearm. The sleeve of his shirt is torn in several places and saturated with blood. He got hurt while shielding me with his arms when the rear windshield was blasted away. No one I know, other than my brother, would have been willing to do that. For me. Put themselves in harm’s way to saveme. Certainly not the losers I’ve dated before.

“This is done.” I tie the thread just like Keva taught me and nod toward his right arm. “Let’s look at those cuts now.”

“It’s fine.”

I shrug. “Whatever. If it gets infected and you end up with gangrene, the doctors will just chop off your arm. But I guess that’s not an issue since you’re ambidextrous, right?”