“Brody!” His name ripped from my throat as tears escaped from my eyes.
He grunted and got back to his feet, holding his side with one hand and firing with the other. I rushed back down the stairs. I couldn’t leave him here. I couldn’t let him stand there in harm’s way so I could run.
He looked up. “No, Taylor. Get the hell out of here!”
“No!” I screamed, far enough down now I reached out and grabbed his arm to pull him up the stairs with me.
Another gun went off and I was knocked from my feet, landing brutally against the unforgiving wooden stairs, pain ricocheting throughout my entire body.
Brody wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into the security of his body as loud rumbling filled the tiny space. The stairs where I fell began to vibrate and shake. It was almost as if an earthquake were ripping through this tiny abandoned place.
Shouts and yelling erupted as things went from bad to worse.
11
Brody
There she goes again. Confusing the shit out of me.
I finally get the chance to get her out of here. I finally manage to get her to the stairs. So what does she do with the three-second window of escape I get her?
She runs back down the stairs toward me.
Damn, I knew I had a way with the ladies, but this was just excessive.
The only lighting came from one of those flashlight apps so there were definite shadows to disappear into, but it was hard to fool those gunning (literally) for us because we had to head toward the only exit in this place.
It became obvious as Taylor pulled on my arm, desperate to get to me follow, that I wasn’t going to be able to stay behind to make sure she made it out first. She wasn’t going to leave me behind.
As fucking frustrating as that was, it was also slightly endearing.
Most people in this life would shoot you, stampede over your body and then leave you there to rot if it got them somewhere. There wasn’t much honor among thieves. There was a code, yeah. That’s where the tattoo came in. But code went out the window when people were getting shot and there was a cop in the midst.
We only got about one step when I saw the gun being aimed through the bright flash of the light. I was rough when I threw her onto the steps and shielded her with my body, but having a few bruises was better than another bloody wound.
The bullet embedded itself in the block wall, inches above where we landed. A little bit of the wall crumbled and fell across the side of my face. God, that had been close.
Overhead, I heard men storming the building, vibrating the worn, thin floorboards above us. Well, it’s about fucking time, I thought as the app shut itself off and we were once again plunged into absolute darkness.
Ignoring the sharp sting in my side and the warmth I felt running down beneath the waistband of my jeans, I scooped Taylor up, holding her against me as I practically dragged her up the stairs. Just as we reached the top, the door burst inward, shards of wood splintered everywhere, and I ducked over her, trying to shield her face.
“Raleigh PD!” a man roared from above, and an ultra-bright light shone down the stairwell, bathing everything in artificial white light.
I squinted against it and held up my hand. “It’s West!” I yelled. “I have the hostage and I’m coming up!”
I hoped they were listening because I towed her up the rest of the way, rushing past what was left of the ancient door on its hinges. A bunch of scuffling and swearing could be heard from downstairs, and I glanced at the officer standing there, ready to go down.
“They have guns and have already used them.” I warned and then pushed through the other ten or so officers who were standing there dressed in bulletproof vests, helmets, and gloves. All of them were armed with weapons and all of them meant business.
Orders were being shouted and footsteps rained down the stairs as we walked out of the gas station and into the parking lot, which was full of police cruisers and flashing lights.
Across the pavement was an ambulance, the lights on the top flashing in welcome.
“Over here!” I yelled, and the EMTs started toward us.
“I can walk,” Taylor said, and I looked down, realizing I was still carrying her.
I stopped and let her slide down the side of my body until her feet touched the ground. “Were you hit again?” I asked, running my gaze over her body. It was dark, but I still noted the dark stain on the side of her hoodie.
“Shit!” I spat and grabbed at her, bringing her closer and yanking up the hem of the too-large sweatshirt. “Oh, Tay,” I heard myself say. “I tried to shield you. I’m getting help right now,” I said, frantic that she was shot again. If she lost any more blood tonight, she was going to be in serious danger.
I looked up, my eyes searching for the EMTs. Where the hell were they? She needed attention.
“Brody!” Taylor yelled, grabbing my face and forcing me to look at her. “Listen! I’m not shot. That isn’t my blood.”
It took a second for the pounding of my heart to let the words sink in, and when they did, I grabbed her by the waist and looked down again. “The blood—”
“The blood is yours,” she said, covering my hands with hers.
I looked down at where the bullet grazed me earlier and noted the dark-red stain across my stomach and side. It lined up perfectly with the stain on her. The blood must have soaked into her clothes when I was carrying her.
“Thank God,” I muttered, running a hand over the top of my head.
“Thank God?” She scoffed, looking at me like I was insane. “You’re relieved that you got shot?”
“I’d take ten bullets if it meant you didn’t have to take any.” The truth just burst right out of my mouth, shocking the shit out of both of us. I knew I was attracted to her. I mean, shit, she was hot as hell. But that comment… that comment made me wonder if maybe I felt something more toward her than just sexual attraction.
Taylor’s lips parted and her eyes widened. Both of us stood there with blood on our clothes, wounds in our bodies, and exhaustion under our eyes. Yet I couldn’t feel any of it.
The EMTs chose that moment to arrive and separate us, each of them looking us over and assessing our injuries. I brushed off the man’s hands when he tried to look under my shirt. “I’m fine. It’s her that needs the medical attention.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Taylor called. “He was shot!”
“Eh, it just grazed me.”
“That’s a lot of blood for a drive-by,” the EMT said, referring to the fact I claimed the bullet just nicked me on the way past.
“Ma’am…” The other EMT sighed loudly, and I looked up to see Taylor with a stubborn set to her jaw.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, my eyes narrowing on the EMT. If he hurt her…
“She’s refusing to get in the ambulance,” the guy replied.
I looked at Tay for confirmation, lifting my eyebrows.
“I’m not going unless you let them look at you too.”
High maintenance. That’s what she was.
“Fine,” I sighed and followed behind them all toward the ambulance. Behind me, the sounds of gunfire erupted, along with some shouting and sounds of a scuffle.
I spun, catching sight of someone sprinting off around the side of the building. It was Snake. He was attempting to flee the scene. Three officers took off after him. I considered running him down myself. I wanted to see him behind bars more than anyone here.
Just as I took a step in his direction, a small, cool hand wrapped around mine. “Please don’t,” she whispered.
I looked down at where she grasped my hand and then back up at her fear-filled face. There was blood smeared on her cheek.
“C’mon,” I said, pulling my hand away to swing my arm over her shoulder. As we walked toward the back of the lit ambulance, I couldn’t help but look back at where Snake disappeared.
“West,” a familiar voice said from behind. It was Mac, my superior and the man
who burst in here tonight.
“Timing couldn’t have been better,” I said.
“Well, we wouldn’t have been able to make this bust at all if it wasn’t for you.”
Behind us, one of the EMTs sighed loudly. “Ma’am, we need to get you started on fluid immediately.”
“You are not sticking me with that needle.” Taylor refused.
“Quit being a pain in the ass, Tay,” I called.
She glared at me.
I turned back to the chief. He raised his brow at me. I shrugged. “She’s high maintenance.”
“Are you speaking about my daughter?” someone with a deep voice said from behind.
I spun and glanced at a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, lines at the corners of his eyes, and dressed in a navy-blue suit complete with a tie.
“Mr. Shaw,” Mac said, stepping forward. “Your daughter is safe. She’s being treated right now.” Mac pointed to where Taylor was sitting in the back of the ambulance.
Mr. Shaw’s eyes glanced over to his daughter but then came quickly back to mine. “Are you the man who kidnapped my daughter?”
“I’m the man that kept her alive.”
His haughty, all-assuming tone did not work on me. Please. I used to live in the ghetto; his suit and money hardly intimidated me.
“Ow!” Taylor howled from behind and I tensed, spinning around, afraid Snake had managed to work his way around the perimeter of the land and come for her.
Snake was nowhere to be seen, but she was sitting in the back of the ambulance sort of hunched over on herself and the EMT was standing over her, scowling.
Like a rubber band stretched way too far, something in me snapped. I stepped around a few people that were milling about and approached where Taylor was sitting inside along a narrow bench that ran the length of the vehicle.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, putting a hand on her shoulder and drawing her upward so I could see what she was hunched around.
The back of her hand was bleeding, a thin rivulet of blood trailing over the thin, pale skin and disappearing around to her palm.
“He stabbed me with a needle!” she accused, glancing at me with wet eyes and then glaring at the man.
Seeing her bleeding yet again really, really pissed me off. Before I could think twice, I plowed into the man, charging him backward and ramming him into the side of the car. I pinned him with my forearm up against the side and looked into his face.
“She’s been shot, kidnapped, and traumatized, and you stab her with a goddamn needle?” I growled.
The man’s eyes widened and I knew I looked rather scary, with my bloody hands and clothes and the wild look I knew was swimming in my eyes. “I didn’t mean to!” he protested. “She wouldn’t hold still.”
“West,” Mac said from right beside me. “What the hell are you doing?”
I blew out a breath and felt some of the initial panic and anger I felt at seeing her blood ebb away. I dropped the man and he collapsed onto his ass on the bench beneath him. “No, fucking bedside manner,” I muttered and strode the short distance toward Taylor.
She was still cradling her hand in her lap, her hair was tangled, her clothes were dirty, bloody, too big and her lips were dry and cracked.
I dropped down on my haunches in front of her and picked through the small kit off to the side. I reached for her hand and she gave it willingly, not even uttering a word of protest. I cleaned off the blood, wiping it away and watching as a bead of fresh new blood welled to the surface. I covered it with a small piece of gauze and then picked up the IV, which the asshole was trying to put in the back of her hand.
“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” I asked softly, speaking only to her. Those jewel-like eyes glanced up away from her hand and fastened onto me.
Without waiting for her reply (like she’d say no), I lifted her hand and pressed my lips near the area I was applying pressure to. Before pulling back, I let my tongue glide over her in a single caress and was rewarded with a spattering of goose bumps racing up her arm.
As I lowered her hand I felt her eyes on me once more and I took advantage of the moment to gently slide the new IV into place.
She winced and I squeezed her fingers. “All done.”
After I tossed aside the bloody gauze, I applied fresh padding and some medical tape to the back of her hand to hold the IV in place. “Don’t move around too much,” I told her. “The more you do, the more it will tug on your skin.”
“Thanks,” she said, giving me a little smile as I returned her hand to her lap. I stood up and, without thinking, leaned down and pressed a kiss to the center of her forehead.
The silence around us seemed rather penetrating so I glanced around. Mac, Mr. Shaw, a couple EMTs, and a few cops were all standing there watching us with their mouths slackened.
“What?” I bellowed. Throats cleared and people started moving around again.
They acted like me being nice was some sort of miracle, like I was usually akin to a caveman with a bad case of monkey butt.
Okay, yeah… that might be accurate.
“Taylor,” Mr. Shaw said, brushing past me like I was some piece of garbage on the street.
“Dad!” she said, and I heard the relief in her tone. I guess if she loved him I would try not to deck him.
“You get them all?” I asked Mac, stepping down from the back of the ambulance.
“All of them but one.”
“Snake is still gone?” I should have gone after him. He was the mind behind this whole thing; he was the one that would do something like this again.
“His name is Snake?” Mac asked.
“That’s what he said.”
“I need you to come down to the station so we can get all your knowledge into a statement.”
Movement around the building paused our conversation and we watched several officers coming out with the large bags full of cash.
“Yeah, I figured,” I said. “Let’s go.” I motioned toward one of the black unmarked sedans.
“Wait,” Taylor called, and I looked back. “He needs to come to the hospital!”
Mac looked at me with a shrewd gaze. He sighed. “Is that your blood, West?” he asked, looking at my shirt.
“It’s not that bad,” I lamented.
“Go,” he ordered.
I was about to protest, but he held up his hand. “Just freaking go. If you don’t, the department head will be breathing down my ass for weeks.”
I didn’t protest too much. I’d lost more blood than I wanted to admit, and I was feeling a little lightheaded.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital after we wrap this up here,” Mac said before turning away to issue orders.
I climbed into the back of the ambulance, sitting across from Taylor and her father.
“Maybe I should ride with you,” her father said, glancing at me.
What a jackass.
“No, Dad,” she sighed. “I’m fine and you have your car here.”
He turned toward her. “I’ll be at the hospital when you get there.”
“Okay.”
His eyes softened when he looked at her, and some of the animosity I felt toward him disappeared. He must not be that bad if he loved her, and it was clear he did. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
When he was gone, the EMTs glanced at us warily. “We’ll be fine back here alone.”
They didn’t argue, instead eagerly shutting us in the back and then jumping into the front of the cab.
“What did you do to those poor guys?” I asked Taylor.
She laughed. “What a bunch of wieners.”
A laugh burst from my throat and my side stung. “Did you just call them wieners?”
“If the shoe fits…” She shrugged.
I grinned.
“Hey,” she said softly after a moment.
The vehicle began moving forward and the lights from the scene faded away.
; “Yeah?”
“Thanks for everything.”
“Just doing my job,” I said casually, even as my insides felt anything but.
Nothing at all about the way I felt for Taylor was casual.
12
Taylor
Just doing my job.
If he said those words one more time, I might scream.
Maybe I would feel differently in the morning. After I was safe in the hospital, with pain meds dulling the sharp ache in my body, but until then, no. Just no.
Until then, I didn’t want to hear this was only a job for him. I didn’t want to hear that the reason it felt so good to be tucked up close to him was because I was in a dangerous and traumatic situation. I didn’t feel traumatized.
I felt… I felt like I liked being near him.
I wanted to sit here in the back of this ambulance, reliving the moment he kissed me, reliving the gentle way he tried to take away the sting of the IV. I wanted to romanticize the totally pissed look on his face when he saw the blood on my hand from that total douche bag of an EMT.
Yeah, I wasn’t in high school and I shouldn’t be over here swooning, especially since I almost died, but I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help feeling like there was more between us than some sort of bond that we forged when he was saving my life.
I didn’t want him to say he was just doing his job. I wanted him to say the thought of me being hurt drove him insane. That even though we didn’t know each other, the thought of never seeing me again was too much to bear.
Yeah, so maybe I was a sappy romantic.
I almost died. I’m entitled to excessive daydreaming about a ripped, tattooed cop who doesn’t think twice about firing a gun and throwing a punch.
I’d take ten bullets if it meant you didn’t have to take any.
*Sigh*
Okay, that was way better than anything I just imagined. And he actually said that.
“What’s wrong?” he said, gazing across the inside of the ambulance with a concerned look on his face.
I must have sighed out loud.
“Nothing,” I answered. I couldn’t help but notice the dark stain on his shirt. “But you haven’t even been looked at.”
Tattoo Page 9
