Page 71 of Fractured Memories

Keeping my voice low, I glance at Jude. “Tell me what happened.”

His jaw works. “I don’t have much information. We were walking to one of the shops Lochlan frequents when he was shot. He actually stopped abruptly right before it happened—I’m not sure if he thought something felt off—but I think it might have kept the bullet from hitting its mark.”

I nod, even as anger flares through me. “Just a single shot?”

“I pulled him behind a building so we could stop the bleeding. I heard another one or two, but I suspect it was a singular sniper.” He takes a sip, glancing toward Lochlan. “I kept him behind buildings to get back in the car, so we didn’t face open fire to find out.”

“And you didn’t see anything suspicious beforehand?” Rohan asks, brows furrowed.

“Nothing.” Jude’s jaw ticks. “Lochlan doesn't keep a schedule, though. He communicates directly with the shop owner when he wants something. He was the only one that would have known we were going to be there.”

Well, I might have someone that Lochlan can tear apart after all.

“Jude, take Till to the shop with you. Find out what the owner knows.” Till might be a rule follower, but he’s loyal and huge. He’ll have no problem helping Jude with this. “You can even dangle that incentive from Miles to get him to spill.”

“You think it was a rebel?” Rohan muses.

“Who else?” I have to fight to keep my voice low. “There’s been constant attacks all over the city, my wife is ambushed, and now Lochlan’s been shot? They’ve been making a big push to cut off any power we have. This must have been them.”

Which means these bastards need to be rounded up and killed. I’m sick of the infection in my city, and I need to put an end to it.

“I’ll get it out of him.” Jude hands me his empty glass, rolling his shoulders.

Tension lines his body, and despite acting calm, I know he’s pissed. We’re like family, and someone attacked one of us. Jude will get some information out of the shop owner—regardless of how many days and how much blood it takes. He slips out of the room with one last look over at Lochlan.

“It’s odd, isn’t it?” I glance over at Rohan, his dark eyes already on me. “All these years, we’ve had no problem keeping the rebels out of the city. Now, even with guards sweeping the buildings, they actually manage to target one of us?” He shakes his head. “Something isn’t right.”

“I agree.” I just don’t know what it is.

His jaw works as he thinks something over, but he drops the issue. Instead, he says, “I’m going to check his house. Make sure he has everything he needs.” With that, Rohan leaves, too.

Turning my attention back to Lochlan, I’m relieved to see him relaxed back in his chair. The bottle of whiskey sits on the floor now, and Nolan has cut Lochlan’s shirt out of the way. They’re nearly done, and his violent episode seems to have passed.

Crossing the room, I set aside the empty glasses, assuming Rohan will drop his in the kitchen on the way to Lochlan’s house. Leaning against the bar, I watch Nolan finish dressing Lochlan’s shoulder, now cleaned and packed.

Satisfied, Nolan packs away his medical items and says something to Lochlan I don’t hear. But Lochlan nods, and Nolan pats his right shoulder before he stands.

Moving to me, the medic says, “He’ll be fine. Try to keep his movements minimal. You know the standard protocol.”

I nod. “Rohan went to get everything. We’ll make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Call for me if you see any signs that it is.”

I wait for Nolan to leave before moving around the table and taking the seat that he just left.

Lochlan swallows hard. “Sorry about the mess.”

I shrug. “I needed a new table anyway.”

That makes his lips twitch. But he still won’t look at me. “I was pissed I didn’t see it coming.”

“Hey, Lo.” I lean forward, nudging his foot with mine so he’ll look over. “We’ll find who did this. But those fuckers still failed, yeah? You’ll make them pay.”

That has a bit of life brightening in his dark eyes. “It’ll take more than a bullet to stop me, Kier.”

I chuckle. “That’s right.” And because I’m really trying to not be such a cold-hearted bastard—though I highly doubt that’s a quality that I can actually change—I add, “I’m glad you’re alright, Lo.”

“Aw, Kier.” He sits up, looking far too smug now. The bastard is fine. “Are you getting soft on me?”