Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“I got him.”
I tug at my vest and try to get it over my head. “Help me with this?” Shadow reaches in and helps me pull the vest free.
“Catch a stinger?” I laugh softly and watch as he sticks his finger in the hole in the front of my vest. “Just another inch, Kincaid and this would’ve gone in your chest.”
“He never was a good shot was he?” We both laugh even though the situation is nothing to laugh at. I know how lucky I am. “Shane?”
I sit up and look over at the fallen officer. I grin when he looks over at me and narrows his eyes. He too has pulled his vest and his t-shirt off. One of his guys is looking him over to make sure his injuries were not life-threatening.
He rubs at the already purple bruises forming on his chest. “You better hope this shit clears up soon. I have a third date on Saturday.”
I chuckle. “You’re a hero, man. Chicks dig that sort of shit.”
“True,” he says as he stands with the assistance of one of his other officers. “We called an ambulance,” he says nodding toward Bobby and Wrench. “But we also called the morgue.”
Chapter 43
Emmalyn
I’m holding the gun with unsteady hands as the key twists in the lock. I heard gunshots earlier, but then complete silence. I’ve been alone in this room for hours. Diego told me to stay and not to leave for any reason, but the longer I’m here, the more worst case scenarios run through my head, and I fully expect Bobby to come through the door. He was Satan for so many years; I can’t fully comprehend a day when good would overpower that much evil.
The door opens slowly, and the first thing I see is his beautiful, slightly lopsided smile.
He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Easy, Darlin’,” he says making me realize I still have the gun pointed in his direction.
He makes a point to close and lock the door back, and I have to wonder if everything is over or if he’s here to deliver bad news.
With trembling hands, I drop the gun on the bed as he nears. I watch quietly as he picks it up and places it back in the drawer he’d pulled it out of earlier.
He sits on the edge of the bed, and I waste no time crawling into his lap and wrapping my arms around him. He winces when I lean against his chest.
“You’re hurt?”
I raise his shirt up at the same time he’s telling me he’s fine, but a sob escapes my lips when I see a huge purple bruise on the upper right portion of his chest. I shoot my eyes up to him.
“What happened?” My eyes dart back and forth to his.
“I got shot.” He shrugs his shoulders like it’s an everyday occurrence.
Tears well in my eyes and cascade down my cheeks before I can even wipe them away with the back of my hand.
“Shot?” I look back down at his chest and run my hand over the dark bruises.
He reaches up, clasps my hand in his, and brings it to his mouth. “I was wearing a vest, Em. I’m fine.”
“Bobby?” I ask with a hitch in my voice. I can only imagine what happens to someone when they shoot and don’t kill the person they were targeting.
“Wrench shot me, not Bobby.” My eyes go wide again.
“He hated you so much that he shot you!” What kind of man does that? I guess the same type of man that was going to rape his President’s girl.
He nods.
“Was Bobby with him?” I have to ask.
“Bobby was with him.” He looks me in the eye and runs a finger down my jaw. “He shot a cop twice in the chest.”
“Oh no! Is the cop ok?”
He nods but his face is crestfallen. “Emmalyn,” He lowers his eyes. “I couldn’t let him shoot someone else.”
I know immediately what he’s telling me before he even says the words.
“Bobby is dead.” It’s a statement, not a question.
He nods again.
My pulse pounds in my ears at the news. You’d think after years of spending my life with a man that I’d have some level of concern for his death, but I just can’t muster any. “He’ll never hurt me again?”
“Never,” he whispers softly. I lay against his chest again but more to the left side, so I don’t hurt him again.
Another tear rolls down my cheek and is caught in the fabric of his shirt. “Thank you,” I whisper as my body begins to tremble uncontrollably.
He holds me through it. He runs a soothing hand over my back and tells me he loves me a dozen times in my ears as I cry against his chest. I’ve lived all of my adult life in fear. Fear that was systematically beaten into me by a man that was supposed to honor and protect me. Even after I left with Diego, that fear was always there. Until this very moment in time I had to always wonder when he would come for me, knowing if he ever tracked me down it would be the last time.