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But he’d picked himself up and tried to take a bullet for her.
The sirens were deafening now. Lights swirled through the trees, blue and red. They were coming. Good. No time to lose. God knows, she was no medic. She tried to remember her high school first aid course.
Apply direct pressure.She stripped off the scrap of T-shirt still clinging to her shoulders, wadded it into a ball and pressed it against the wound. The best she could do, other than praying, desperately.
She sagged over him, resting her forehead against his. Waited, eyes shut tight to block out the unseeing gaze of the corpses.
Presently, people and loud noises boiled out onto the deck, hustling and bustling, asking her loud, urgent questions that she could not bring herself to comprehend, let alone answer. She had nothing left for them, whoever they were. She was used up. All done.
Finally someone had the kindness to sting her in the arm with a needle and lay her gently down on something flat.
That was the last she knew.
CHAPTER34
SIX WEEKS LATER…
Nick fidgeted behind the wheel of his truck, staring at the carved wooden sign on the storefront that read The Wandering Gourmet—Fine Catering.” He’d been there for an hour. This was stupid.
He slid out of the truck, fed the meter for the third time, and pressed his hand against the dull ache in his chest. It took a while for a hole through the lung to heal. They’d thought he was going to bite the big one, he’d been told. He’d also been told that Becca had stayed at his side the whole time he’d been in intensive care and various other wards, all the way till they downgraded his condition to conscious-but-miserable-piece-of-shit-in-fiery-pain.
At which point, she’d made herself scarce. She’d left him there, all alone, to stare at the IV bag dripping into his arm and ponder what he’d done, and what it had cost him. She’d changed her phone numbers.
He knew a “fuck off” when he heard one and yet here he was. She had to tell him to fuck off in person, to his face. Maybe it would sink in.
He couldn’t take any more of this. Stumbling through his days like the walking dead. Dreaming of her every night, waking up in tears with his dick stone hard.
He walked towards the catering place. His legs felt like they might just give way at the knees at the prospect of the ultimate Fuck Off.
He walked in to the reception area. A fresh-faced blond girl manned the front counter. “Hello, can I help you?” she chirped.
“I want to talk to your boss,” he said.
“Just a sec. I’ll go get her.”
She scampered through the swinging doors. He glimpsed a high tech kitchen, lots of gleaming equipment.
Becca burst through. She stopped, so abruptly the blonde bumped into her. Her professional smile switched off like a light.
They stared at each other. She looked sharper, her chin and jaw more defined. Her hair was longer, the ringlets lengthening into waves. She was so beautiful, it made his eyes ache. “Hey,” he forced out.
She put her hand to her throat. “I see you’re all healed up.”
“More or less,” he said.
“That’s great news.” She folded her arms under her breasts. The blond girl cut her gaze back and forth between them, at a loss.
“I see you’ve, uh, gone into business for yourself.” He gestured around at the place. “Good for you. Looks great.”
She shrugged. “I decided it was time to get out of the kiddie pool,” she said coolly. “Besides, not much scares me these days. I had to take out a huge loan, but it’s a good location. And my ex-boss from the country club is passing me a lot of great referrals. Out of pure guilt, I think, but that’s fine with me. I’ll use guilt, if it works.”
“Oh, it works,” he told her. “Believe me. It definitely works.”
That clammed her right up. There was a long, tense silence, and he hardened his belly and gathered the nerve to break it.
“Is there someplace private we could go to talk?” he asked.
“No need,” she said. “We don’t have anything to talk about that can’t be said right out in public.”
