Page 62 of Defending Van

Again, his words didn't penetrate. She knew she’d been shot by Asahi Watanabe when they fought over the gun before Van appeared out of nowhere, like a dark avenging angel. It was only a graze, hurt like hell, but it wasn't any sort of life-threatening injury. Unlike a shot to the chest.

“Kevlar,” she whispered. He said he was wearing it, the only reason he was still alive.

“Kevlar,” Van repeated. “Wouldn't have hit my heart anyway, wrong side.”

If that was meant to make her feel better, it absolutely did not. “Still could have punctured your lung,” she reminded him. A chest wound would likely have been a death sentence regardless of which side the bullet entered.

“You weren't wearing any, sweetheart. I hit you.”

There was so much pain, remorse, and guilt in his voice, that she rushed to reassure him. “No, I got hit when I fought Asahi Watanabe for the gun before you got here.”

“No, Makayla. You got hit then, and again when both Asahi Watanabe and I fired our weapons. His bullet hit me as he turned, but you moved at the same time, and my bullet hit you.”

“Hit me?” Was that why she’d been lying on the floor, everything a haze of pain and exhaustion?

When Van’s gaze dropped to her shoulder, hers moved with it, and she found he had one of his hands clamped around the joint. Blood seeped between his fingers. Her blood, because she’d been shot. Again.

“Oh,” she said, feeling a little woozy now that she knew she was bleeding all over Van.

“Oh? That’s all you’ve got to say?” Van demanded like he was expecting her to explode on him for accidentally shooting her.

But that was really her fault. She was the one who had been so afraid that Asahi Watanabe would shoot Van that she’d reached for the knife and then launched herself at the man, distracting him, but also making him move so that Van’s shot missed and apparently hit her.

Asahi Watanabe.

What had happened to him?

“Where is he? Did you get him?” All she remembered was two shots. If one had hit Van and one had hit her, that meant that none had hit Asahi Watanabe. Maybe there was a third shot she didn't remember?

“No, sweetheart. You did.”

“I did?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. You got him with the knife, right in the neck, severed his carotid artery.”

“I killed him? Me? I killed one of the heads of Azure?”

“You did. Sweetheart, I'm so sorry,” Van said softly, a wealth of pain in those pitch-black eyes that used to be so empty.

“For what? Saving my life? We were fighting for the gun, but I wouldn't have won, Van, you know that. I'm smaller than him, weaker, and already injured. He was going to kill me anyway, before he went to have breakfast with you guys. You know that, you heard it.” Makayla paused to swallow as she thought about what exactly Asahi Watanabe had planned to do to her. But he hadn't. Because of the man currently putting pressure on her shoulder. “You saved me, Van. If you didn't come looking for me, he would have killed me.”

“Should never have let you do this,” he said on a shaky sigh.

“Since I know you're freaked out, I'm going to let the comment about letting me do anything slide. This time. Don’t say it again, though, because next time I won't be as forgiving,” she warned. She was looking for a partner, an equal, not a boss, not another owner.

“Next time?” he asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Well, yeah?” she said, equally as confused. “Isn't that what we talked about? Getting to know each other after this was all over?” Had he changed his mind? Is that what he was trying to tell her?

“I thought me … shooting you … would change that for you.”

“You mean you want me to be mad at you for it. Okay, then. Van, I’m so angry you shot me, but I forgive you. There, all good now? Did the guys find …” Makayla trailed off as something occurred to her, something Asahi Watanabe had been doing during his phone call.

“What? And don’t think we’re finished discussing your attitude,” he said, arching a brow at her to tell her he wasn't impressed by her easy acceptance of him accidentally shooting her. Well, too bad for him, she wasn't going to get hung up on it, that would be crazy.

“The only reason I wasn't dead or full of holes by the time you got down here was because Asahi Watanabe was on the phone with someone. I don’t speak Japanese, so I don’t know what they were saying, but he kept looking at something.” Adrenaline pumped through her system now, dulling the pain, giving her a boost of energy when she needed it most, and she tried to stand only to be held down by Van. “I need to get up, need to show you.”

“Tell me what you need to show me, and I’ll go look at it, but you're bleeding, shot, twice, and your feet still have to be killing you. You're not going anywhere,” he growled.