Page 41 of With A Little Luck

Chapter Thirty-Four

Hartley

Q uincy will have no part of being guided to the truck. She rips out of my arms and holds up a short finger. “Don’t try me right now, Hart. We have to help Ridge.”

“I’ve got this. You’ll only get in the way.” Trigg hits his knees next to Ridge, who now lies on his back with his hand against the gunshot wound.

Bright red blood spills around both their fingers, and my stomach tightens. That doesn’t look good at all.

“Holy fuck that burns,” Ridge groans.

He’s better than me. I’d probably be wailing in agony if I were him. He didn’t even scream when the bullet hit him, and everything in me says that’s because he didn’t want to scare Quincy.

Trigg shoves his hand against Ridge’s and uses his other to lift the giant alpha’s shoulder. “It went all the way through. That’s a good sign. Can you wiggle your fingers?”

“Yeah,” Ridge grinds out, doing exactly that.

“Excellent. Maybe we had a bit of luck on our side today, after all. It clearly missed your subclavian artery—otherwise you’d be dead by now or much closer to it,” Trigg says.

I stare at him incredulously. He needs to learn how to censor himself.

Quincy is already on the verge of freaking out.

“The other concern in this area is the brachial plexus, but your movement is good. You took out both of the men on the left after being shot. I doubt you could have done that if the bullet hit your brachial plexus. It’s like having molten lava poured into your shoulder and chest.”

“Not to be a baby, but this doesn’t feel great,” Ridge hisses.

“I’ll bet not.” Trigg rolls his eyes, splitting his attention between Ridge and glancing over at Quincy and me. “Hartley, toss me your shirt and get her into the vehicle.”

“I already peed a little. Unless you want me to ruin the interior of Ridge’s truck, I need a bathroom right now,” Quincy sobs. “Ridge is bleeding out. Someone needs to go get to a phone so we can call for help?—”

“Hell no,” Ridge growls, gritting his teeth.

“The only assistance we need has been alerted. They’re already on the way.” Trigg nods at us. “Head over by the bushes. Hartley will help hold you up. I haven’t had the chance to secure the interior of the house.”

“That is not happening,” Quincy says, her tone leaving little room for negotiation.

“I’ll just hold it until I can’t anymore.

God, Ridge, we are going to have a talk about you using your body as a human shield.

You can’t die. Think of King and the baby and me .

” She pushes up on her tiptoes and dances around, shaking out her hands.

“This is all my fault. I should have peed before we left the office, and I know that, so I have no idea why I’m so angry with the three of you.

Could I be in shock? Is anger a side effect? ”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Ridge says, raising his head.

Fuck.

His coloring is bad.

His deep tan complexion is almost ghostly pale.

“You are not fine,” she hisses. “And if I wasn’t about to pop at any second, I would be right there holding your hand, but I don’t want to risk contaminating your wound.”

The fact he immediately falls back to rest on the snowy grass is an even worse sign.

“Don’t we need towels?” I ask. “What if I go in with her?”

Trigg sighs. “Take off your shirt and hold it to the front and back of his wound. Don’t be afraid to apply too much pressure. You can’t—not in this situation.” His eyes narrow. “Now, Hartley! I can’t remove my hands until you’re here to put yours in their place.”

I take a tentative step back.

Holy fuck.

Seriously… I am not built for this shit.

It might be time to take Quincy and run. I’m sure Costa and his henchmen would be more interested in Ridge than us. And either way, I would hire an entire platoon of security to keep eyes on us at all times.

Plus get us completely off the radar.

Maybe even off-grid.

Shit.

Am I in shock?

I’m pretty sure I killed that guy or caused irreparable brain damage before Trigg took the final shot.

Jesus.

I’m just as complicit as they are.

More than that, I don’t even want to think of what it would do to Quincy to lose Ridge right after she found him.

I get myself in gear.

Stepping around Quincy, I stride over, ripping off my shirt as I move.

“Tell me what to do.” I don’t even know why those are the words that come out of my mouth when he just gave me instructions, but I hit my knees at Trigg’s side.

My hands shake violently as I prepare to cover the wound, but Trigg rips my shirt from my hold.

He shoves it where he wants it and grabs my wrists, showing me where he wants me to apply pressure.

Blood immediately saturates the fabric around my hand, and I fight the urge to pull away.

Ridge groans. “Give a man a little fucking warning next time.”

“This is never happening again,” Quincy says, taking off toward the house. “If I had the money, I would hire you your own personal security. So much security. You wouldn’t be able to turn around without bumping into someone who’s there solely to keep you alive. You clearly need it.”

I blink repeatedly as she waddles toward the house.

She must be in shock.

She’s handling this pretty well, but now all I can think about is how this might affect the baby.

Trigg grabs his gun off the ground and takes off after her. “Angel, you will wait for me?—”

“I’m in shock!” she snaps. “Don’t growl at me all bossy like or I will punch you.”

Ridge smiles. “At least she has something else to focus on, but I imagine she’s going to be mighty pissed once she’s no longer about to pee herself.”

I laugh. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Just keep applying pressure.” He tilts his head. “Honestly? This is such bullshit. If the bullet had been two inches higher, it would have missed me completely.”

“Yeah.” I scoff. “Or it could have been a few inches lower, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation at all.”

The sounds of Trigg and Quincy bickering fill the air as background noise, but Ridge’s face sobers.

“Thanks for helping out with that guy,” he says. “I saw the second bullet land out of my peripheral vision.”

I nod. “I don’t know that I even made the choice consciously. Most of it felt like muscle reflex and panic, but I am glad you’re alive.”

I wonder if it’ll hit me in full force later?

I needed to make sure that man couldn’t take a second shot that could have gone through Ridge and hit Quincy.

Or killed Ridge.

He’s growing on me.

I hate that we’re all tangled up in something like this.

I don’t think Ridge is a bad guy. He may do illegal shit for a living, but these guys are trash. Anyone who would take shots with a pregnant woman within hitting distance is a special kind of evil I’ve heard of but never been faced with.

The more I think about it, the angrier I get until I feel like I might chip a tooth.

“Man, you can back off just a smidge,” Ridge says, gritting his teeth.

“Shit.” I frown, realizing I’ve been squeezing the fuck out of him. “Seriously, don’t die. Quincy would be heartbroken.”

“I’m good. It’s little more than a glorified scratch.”

If only.

Quincy and Trigg come out, and my head tilts as I realize she changed clothes. Trigg has several towels under one arm, but I’m more focused on my omega.

“Are you okay?” My heart thumps as every worst-case scenario spills through my head.

Did the stress send her into labor?

“She didn’t quite make it to the toilet,” Trigg says, hitting a knee at my side.

“He was very slow about clearing the rooms.” Quincy sighs, coming to Ridge’s other side.

She struggles to get down on her knees but finally manages it.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She brushes her fingers over Ridge’s cheek and grabs his bloody hand.

“I’m so sorry you got shot protecting me. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Mama.” He smirks, tilting his face toward her. “Sorry about this.”

I suppose he earned the right to call her a nickname, but that is a cute one. Too bad I missed out on it.

“Don’t apologize.” She leans in, brushing her lips over his. “Especially because I’m going to yell at you some more once you’re feeling better.”

Ridge laughs.

Trigg pulls my hands away, shoving a towel at me. “Get cleaned up. We should have backup here any minute. Someone will escort you and Quincy to Ridge’s house while I accompany him to see the doctor.”

“Hell no!” Quincy says, shaking her head. “I’m going with him!”

“Nah,” Ridge says. “The doctor probably won’t allow anyone else in the room. It’ll be better if you and Hartley head home. I know Easton will have guys there to watch you until Trigg and I make it back.”

Trigg’s head tilts, and he grabs his gun while holding a towel over Ridge’s wound with the other.

“It’s just us,” a voice says from near the gate behind me. My head swivels, taking in Shaw. Come to think of it, the voice did sound familiar. “Shit, you’re all fucked up. All right, everyone clear out and give Leo a chance to work. We brought Valor in case it was impossible to get his big ass up.”

A man with dark brown hair and a medical bag beelines for us, moving even faster than Shaw. That must be Leo if he has some type of medical training.

“I’m just lounging here. Don’t mind me, I can get up with no trouble,” Ridge says, but I don’t think any of us buy it.

Everything happens fast.

Quincy and I are introduced to Valor—Shaw and Leo’s packmate.

Next comes Easton, who is their boss, and his packmate, Keir.

Keir accompanies us inside to help Quincy pack, and once she’s done, he drives my SUV to Ridge’s house.

“The gate guards are going to give your vehicle a full sweep. I did a quick scan, but they’re going to give it the deep dive treatment,” Keir says, pulling into Ridge’s driveway. “The door should be unlocked. I’ll be back as soon as I help them process the SUV.”

I mumble a quick thanks and help Quincy from the vehicle before grabbing the most important bags and following her inside.

If I thought things would calm down once we were safely inside Ridge’s house, I was wrong.

There are entirely too many new faces, but I do my best to keep up. It’s not easy, though.

My hands shake from leftover adrenaline, and my head is a mess.

Omen is the white-haired beta who is in a pack with Leo, Shaw, and Valor. Their omega is Saylor.

The woman with long dark brown hair is Briar, and she belongs to Keir and Easton.

Omen looks dangerous. I have no trouble believing he’s an assassin or whatever Ridge and these guys do for a living, but Saylor seems sweet. That’s my assumption after knowing them for two minutes, anyway.

“It’s very nice to meet you, but I smell like pee, and Ridge was just shot…” Quincy’s voice shakes, and she frowns like she can’t believe she just said that. “I need a shower. Can we have a do-over meeting when I’m not so out of it?”

“We really could have planned the timing better,” Briar says, linking her hands and resting them against her chest. “I’m so sorry. Please, go shower and nest or whatever you need to do to relax.”

“We have gifts and party trays if you think you could eat,” Saylor says, shoving her long golden-brown hair over her shoulder. “Sorry. Never mind. Pretend like we’re not here.”

My head feels like it’s about to explode.

They clearly know Ridge and possibly Trigg, but why are they here in the first place?

Omen might be who Ridge mentioned would guard us until he and Trigg get back, but these chicks don’t seem trained at all.

And that’s not me being a judgmental dick.

I had a female alpha on my security team for two years when I was in the pros, and she was one of the best bodyguards I ever worked with.

These two don’t have that energy, though.

“It probably looks like we’re celebrating Ridge being shot,” Omen says in a thick Irish accent. “We’re not. All of this was planned for this evening, but our timetable moved up under the circumstances.”

“It was planned for tonight,” Saylor says, nodding dramatically. “Briar and I wanted to introduce ourselves, and it’s rude to come without gifts. But then Easton told us to set up for the party and take pictures, just in case any of you guys need an alibi.”

That’s either scary or impressive that Ridge’s boss thought to set up an alibi with everything else going on.

“It was going to be a surprise mini-baby shower, but the vibes are ruined now,” Briar says, smiling tightly. “Go shower off the blood and change. We’ll be here if you’re up for company or just ignore us if not.”

It’s time I take charge and get Quincy upstairs so she can have some breathing room.

“Thanks,” I say, hiking Quincy’s bag higher on my shoulder before scooping up the one I dropped at my feet.

Fuck.

I’m so out of it, I don’t even remember dropping it.

Quincy leans into my chest, and we head for the stairs.