Page 14 of My Protective Biker

"Get her in."

Axel takes her and gets her in the backseat. I hear Tate's weapon fire twice behind me, then quiet.

Blood is running down my arm warm and steady but the adrenaline is keeping the pain distant. I get in next to Zoe and she's crying now, grabbing my right arm.

"You're bleeding—"

"I'm fine." I pull her against my good side. "You're safe. That's all that matters."

Tate appears three minutes later. "Both down. We're clear."

He gets in and looks at my shoulder, shifts into the mode I've seen him use a hundred times. "Let me see."

I shift so he can examine it while the others load up. He checks both entry and exit.

"Through and through, left shoulder. Entry front, exit back. Missed the bone. Bleeding's controlled." He pulls the field kit. "I'm packing it and wrapping it, but you need proper cleaning when we get back."

"Fine."

He works fast, packing both wounds and wrapping it tight. Hurts but I've had worse.

"I'm calling someone to look at it properly when we get back," he says.

"Fine."

He pulls out his phone, dials. "Carina? It's Tate. Zoe's safe, we've got her. Roan took a round to the shoulder, he's refusing hospital. Can you come to his place and make sure it's treated right?"

Pause while he listens.

"Yeah, through and through. Bleeding's controlled. We'll be there in forty." Another pause. "Thanks."

He hangs up. "She's coming."

Zoe is still pressed against my side, her grip on my arm tight enough to bruise. I don't tell her to ease up. She needs the anchor.

"I'm sorry," she says, voice small and broken. "Dad, I'm so sorry, I didn't think—"

"Stop." I make my voice gentle. "This isn't on you."

"But if I hadn't gone—"

"Zoe. Look at me."

She does, eyes wet.

"You didn't do this. They did. You went to meet a friend for coffee. That's not a crime. That's not something you need to apologize for. This is on Crane and the men who grabbed you. Not you. Never you."

She nods but I can see she doesn't believe it yet.

Cain drives and the ride back takes forty-two minutes. When we pull into my driveway at three-forty, there's a car parked at the curb that I recognize even in the dark.

Carina's.

She gets out as soon as she sees the truck, medical bag already in her hand, and heads for the porch.

Tate helps me out while Cain gets Zoe.

"Take her inside," I tell Cain. "Put her in her room. She needs to sleep."