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I dial her number. One ring goes through before I hear the front door open and close, so I end the call before she can answer. I rush over to the bed and resume my seductive pose.
A moment later I hear voices—what sounds like several of them—coming up the hallway toward the bedroom. I go into panic mode. I slide across the bed toward the nightstand drawer where Sin keeps his handgun when the door bursts open. Two men carry Sin to the bed. His shirt is saturated with blood, concentrated on his right shoulder. “My God! What happened?”
I move off the bed just in time for Sin to plop on it and fall backward. “I’ve gone and got myself shot again.”
“Then why are you here and not at the hospital?”
He unbuttons his shirt and slides it off. “Not bad enough to take the risk of being reported to the authorities.”
This is crazy. “You are aware people get infections and die from untreated gunshot wounds?”
“It won’t go untreated. Jamie is on his way. I’ll be stitched up, good as new. I’m sure he’ll give me antibiotics so it doesn’t get infected. All will be fine, Bonny.” He nods at the two men standing in the bedroom. “Go wait in the living room. Feel free to help yourselves to whatever you’d like from the liquor cabinet.”
They leave and I’m alone with an injured, bleeding Sin. I take a moment to gather my thoughts on what I’ve been taught in the immediate care of a gunshot wound. “I need to apply pressure.”
“No, Bonny. You don’t have to do that.”
“I can’t stand here and do nothing.”
“Would you like to run down the street and pick up a needle and thread so you can suture it?” He isn’t hurting too much to be a smart-ass.
“I’m not too handy with sewing so you’d probably prefer I leave it to Jamie.” I sit on the bed next to him. “Are you in pain?”
“Aye, like a son of a bitch. I’m not ashamed to say I wouldn’t mind having a little nip of something strong.”
“I can do that much for you.”
I return with the whisky and help him to a sitting position. “Will Jamie give you something for the pain?”
He grimaces when he sits up to toss back the entire tumbler of Johnnie Walker. “Aye, and I’ll gladly take it.”
“Another?”
“Aye.” I’m through the door when I hear him call out, “Bring the bottle.”
I’m shaken by my concern for him. I shouldn’t care if he lives or dies—but I do.
I return to his side and he strokes his hand over the soft, silky fabric of my nightgown. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you.”
He puts his hand on my thigh and rubs it up and down. He’s lying on the bed with a gunshot wound and is still making the moves on me. Horny bastard. “You should know I’m not happy about my men seeing you in this. This sight should be for my eyes only.”
“That was the plan.”
“And the bedding is new.” I’m surprised he’s noticed. “I like it.”
“I liked it too, until you bled all over it.” I grin because I know the crude remark he could make. “Don’t go there, Breck.”
He laughs. “You’ve come to know me well in a short amount of time.”
I slide off the bed and kneel on the floor so we’re face to face. I grasp his hand in mine and hold it tightly. “Tell me what happened tonight.”
“Sometimes I have to be a handler. When a brother commits a transgression, I’m the one who delivers them to the person who will carry out their punishment. They don’t always come willingly … but I make sure they come.”
“Does that mean if I’m bad and need punishing, you’ll have another man do it for you?”
“Absolutely not. I’m the only one who touches you.” He rubs his thumb over the top of my hand. “I was really looking forward to touching you when I got home. I thought about it all day.”
“I know. Me too.”
Jamie comes into the bedroom and stands over Sin. “What have you gone and gotten yourself into this time, brother?”
“That fucking Neil Allaway piece of no-count shit has been dodging me for weeks. I found him tonight and he shot me when I went after him.”
“Did you at least catch the bastard?”
“Hell yeah, I got him. He’s in Sangster’s hands now.” Uh-oh. I have no idea who Sangster is but it sounds as though Neil is in deep shit. Even I know that.
“Let me take a look.”
I slide over so Jamie can move in for a better assessment. “It’s still in there?”
“Aye.”
“You told me it was only a flesh wound.” The asshole lied to me.
Jamie reaches into his bag and takes out a portable light. “When I extract it, I’ll need you to shine that on the wound so I can find it.”
What is this? Medieval times? “Seriously? You’re going to be digging into his flesh while I stand over him holding a flashlight?”
“It’s how this is done, Bonny.”
“Can you hold the light or do I need to fetch one of the goons to come in here instead?”
“My bonny one is tough.” Sin squeezes my hand. “She’s got this.”
He wants me here with him. How can I say no? “I can do it.”
I’ve been with fellow agents when they’ve taken a bullet but this is an entirely new experience. I don’t want to watch what Jamie’s doing. Each time I attempt to look away, the light moves and he scolds me, so I’m forced to keep my eyes on Sin’s wound when he injects him with local using a long ass needle and again while stainless steel pliers dig into his shoulder. “Can you not give him something for pain?”
“I did. I injected him with lidocaine and gave him a shot of morphine. He’ll be fine.”
“He doesn’t look fine.” He’s clenching my hand so tight it hurts. “You need another drink?”
“I won’t turn it down.”
I fill his tumbler and he downs it in one gulp. “Thanks.”
He sighs as he lies back on the bed. “Let’s get this done.”
“Have one of those men come in and hold the light so I can talk to him.” I’m sure I won’t be able to distract him from all the pain but maybe I can help take his mind off it a little.
The skinny one comes in after Jamie calls for him. I take Sin’s hand and Ja
mie returns to his previous task. “I had to have a few IVs when I was a kid and this is what my dad did. He’d kneel at my bedside, hold my hand, and talk. His voice didn’t take away all the pain but it soothed me. There’s something special about hearing a father’s voice tell you everything is going to be okay. You can’t not believe he’s telling the truth,” I say.
“I got pneumonia when I was a child and had to go into the hospital. They gave me an IV for the antibiotics and I cried because it was painful. My father told me to suck it up and stop being a baby. I think I was five.”
Sin grimaces; I look over at Jamie. He’s digging deep.
“Breathe in slow … and deep.” He does and his chest expands. “Now, blow it out slowly. Close your eyes and concentrate on breathing. Push the pain out of your mind. You can do this.”
We repeat the process through four cycles—me talking him through—and Jamie finally announces, “Got it.”
Thank God!
“That fucker was in deep.” He holds the lead slug up to the light in his gloved hand. “I’m sorry, mate. I know that hurt like a son of a bitch. I didn’t have a needle long enough to get the local in that far. That’s why it hurt more than usual.”
He still needs to suture him so I pour another whisky. He takes it without hesitation. “This part won’t be bad since the skin is numb. The deep digging is what was killing me.”
I see a huge difference in his posture. It’s more relaxed.
He continues holding my hand, stroking his thumb back and forth across my palm on the underside where it’s hidden from Jamie. “How did shopping with my mum go today?”
Jamie stops and looks at us but doesn’t say a word before returning to his suture job.
“Surprisingly well. She helped me choose this bedding.” I want to tell him he’s wrong about her but now isn’t the time.
“The bedding that I’ve now ruined.”
“It can be replaced. You’re okay. That’s all that matters.”
