by Karen Kelley
Please, please, she silently prayed, don’t let him die because of me.
She turned on her radio then pushed the mike. Nothing. She must’ve jarred something loose when she hit the floor.
“Help is on the way,” she said. “Why the hell were you robbing a bank?”
A smile tugged at his lips. “Haven’t you figured it out? I didn’t rob the bank. I’m an angel. Sort of. I’m a nephilim.”
He was already hallucinating. “I know that’s what you told Grandpa.”
“He’s a very persistent old man.”
“Shh, don’t talk. Help will be here soon.” But would it be soon enough to save him? “I need to call an ambulance.”
He grimaced. “Won’t do any good.” He took her hand in his and squeezed. “We’ll see each other again. I promise.” His eyes closed.
“Don’t you dare die on me!” She jumped to her feet, then swayed as though she’d downed a six-pack. She weaved to the nearest desk and grabbed for the phone, missed, then connected on the second pass. Her stomach lurched. She swallowed hard, forcing herself not to be sick, and punched in -- .
“Hello?” Justin answered, then cleared his throat. “I mean,-- , what is your emergency?”
“Bank robbers. Man shot. Need ambulance,” she mumbled as the room began to spin. Her head felt too heavy to hold up.
If she could just rest it on the desk she would feel better in a few minutes.
“Did you say that you’ve been shot?”
Had she been shot? No, she didn’t think so. “The angel. Someone shot my angel.” She aimed for the phone’s cradle but missed. Not that she cared. Her head rattled worse than Old Red.
She grabbed a pink sweater that had been left on the back of the office chair and weaved back across the room. “If you die
I’m going to be really pissed,” she mumbled as she moved to her knees. “Promise me you won’t die.”
He opened his eyes. “I promise I won’t die.”
She folded the sweater and placed it over his wound to stanch the flow of blood. He was going to die and she knew there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. She’d seen people with gunshot wounds center chest like this one. Hell, she was surprised he was still talking.
“Your name is Dillon, right?” She thought that was what
Grandpa called him. For a moment the man was silent, and she wondered if she was having a conversation with a dead man, then he dragged his eyes open.
“Yeah.”
“Why the hell would you take a bullet for me?”
He smiled, but it quickly changed to a grimace. “Why, don’t you think you’re worth saving?”
She shook her head. “Not if it means your death.” Where was the ambulance? If Justin screwed up calling one she would strangle him with her bare hands.
“Kiss me,” he said, words strained.
“What?” She jerked back enough that her head felt as if someone was shooting a game of pool inside and they just dropped three balls into the pockets.
“Grant a dying man his last wish. Kiss me.”
She frowned down at him.
“I saved your life and this is all I ask in return.”
Ah hell, it was the least she could do. “You don’t have a disease or anything?”
“I’m clean. I promise.”
It wasn’t as if she would ever see him again. She was immediately filled with guilt. Thinking hurt way too much. She leaned down and brushed her lips over his, surprised by the warmth of his. She thought they would be cold.
His hand went behind her head and brought her closer. He deepened the kiss. Warmth spread over her when his tongue began to caress. He damn sure doesn’t kiss like a dying man, she thought as shivers of pleasure ran down to her belly, then settled lower, between her legs. Everything around her vanished from her mind. It was just her and him all alone and…
The sound of a siren broke into the fantasy building inside her mind. She scooted away from him, but swayed when the room swam around and around. Her palm rested on the floor until the room stopped spinning.
“Good-bye, Raine.”
“No, not good-bye. The ambulance is here and you’re going to be fine.” He had to be fine. She refused to let him die saving her life. “I’ll show them the way. You just lie still.”
She came to her feet, wobbled again, then started down the long hallway that led outside. She had to hurry and let the paramedics know someone was dying. A sick feeling grew inside her belly, curling into a tight ball. She was nearly to the door of the bank when it was kicked open. She stumbled forward and would S have fallen through the opening if someone hadn’t grabbed her
arm and jerked her out of the bank, shoving her against the
outside brick wall. Her head cracked against the brick exterior.
Her body throbbed from the force of his attack.
“Oh hell, the bank robbers came back to finish me off.”
Her stomach rumbled as she blinked past the fog surrounding
her and met the ferocious glint in Ethan’s eyes. Not the bank robbers, then. She glared at him. Who the hell did Ethan think he was— Rambo? He was always kicking down freakin’ doors. “What are you doing?” she said, pushing against him, but for some reason she had no strength. And her head was pounding so hard her vision blurred.
“I didn’t know who was coming out,” he said. “You okay?”
“I need an ambulance. Hurry.”
His gaze swept over her. “Where are you hurt?”
“Head.”
“Raine, stay with me.” Ethan jiggled her shoulder.
Her head pounded. She opened her eyes. “Stop shaking me.”
“Who was shot?” Ethan asked.
“A man. Inside the bank. I think he’s dying.” She fought
back the bile that rose inside her. Please don’t let him be dead, she silently prayed. He was probably one of the bank robbers, and he had broken into her home, but he saved her life and she didn’t want to live with his death on her conscience.
“One of the robbers?”
“No. My guardian angel.” He was now, anyway.
“There’s no one in the bank,” Leo said as he rushed out as if he’d been running for a long time. “The vault is open and money’s scattered on the floor. We better call the sheriff.”
“I did before I arrived,” Ethan said. “Just in case.”
Just in case? What, did he think she made up a robbery in progress?
Raine glanced at Leo. She hadn’t heard the other deputy go inside the bank. She must’ve knocked her noggin pretty good.
Leo royally screwed up this time if he hadn’t spotted the guy on the floor with a bullet hole in him. “You didn’t trip over him?”
“Huh?”
“Never mind,” she said.
Leo glanced toward Ethan. “I swear, I searched everywhere and there’s no one in there.”
Ethan ran his fingers over her head, stopping when he grazed the bump above her ear.
“Ow!”
“Head injury,” Ethan pronounced.
“I bumped my head when the guy shoved me out of the way.
He took the bullet. If not for him, I’d be dead.”
Flashing lights and the whine of a siren filled the alley. The ambulance screeched to a stop, turning off the siren. A good thing, because much more noise and she was going to pass out.
Her eyes were already crossing.
Two men got out, grabbing the cot and jump kit out of the back. Raine recognized the crew but she couldn’t remember their names, and her head was still pounding so she didn’t try.
“Where’s the gunshot victim?” the taller one asked, practically pinging off the wall.
“She’s hallucinating,” Ethan told them.
“No, I’m not. He’s in there.” She pointed toward the door and lost her balance. If Ethan hadn’t grabbed her, she would’ve fallen. The paramedics quickly lowered the cot. Ethan guided her until she was sitting on the thin ma
ttress.
“We have to check it out,” the ambulance driver told Ethan.
Bless him! Dillon could be dead by now. She swayed again.
Ethan put her feet up, forcing her to lie back.
Leo shrugged. “Go ahead, but there isn’t anyone in there.”
Her eyes narrowed. Leo looked her way, but as soon as he caught her angry expression, he turned away. Something bothered her about him. “What took you so long to get here?”
“Flat tire,” he mumbled.
“I’ll stay with her, you check out the bank.” The paramedic’s partner eagerly took off.
The nametag on his shirt had Raymond J. Smith on it. “I’m
RJ, deputy,” he told her. She liked his voice. “As soon as I get your blood pressure do you think you can tell me what happened?” He strapped a cuff around her arm.
“I’m okay.” Frustration filled her. They should all be looking for the injured man.
He smiled, but didn’t say anything as he pumped air into the cuff and stared at the dial. A few seconds passed before he released the air. “Your blood pressure is only a little high. That’s a good sign.”
“I’ve been trying to tell everyone I’m okay. I would have been shot if he hadn’t pushed me out of the way. He took the bullet meant for me.”
“And you hit your head?”
Finally, someone was actually paying attention. “Yes.”
“Pretty hard?”
“Hard enough.”
“Were you knocked out?”
She was dazed, but she remembered hearing the bank robbers running away. Then nothing. “Everything blurred and my head hurt, but no, I was aware of what was going on.”
“But you’re not positive?”
“Not absolutely.” She rubbed her forehead, then grimaced when the pounding started again.
“Nothing,” the medic said with more than a little disappointment as he came out.
Leo was right behind him. “It’s as I said, there’s no one in there that has been shot. The only person inside is Mr. Aimsley.”
“Damn!” Ethan exploded. “He’s going to contaminate the scene. Why did you let him go inside?”
Now he questioned Leo’s intelligence?
“He must’ve come through the front. He’s the owner and has his own key, you know.” He didn’t try to hide his sarcasm.
“Stay with her.” Ethan stormed inside.
She closed her eyes. Where could the guy have gone? She brushed her fingers across her lips. They tingled in response.
“Did he give his name?”
She opened her eyes. “Who?”
“The man who was shot.”
“My guardian angel?”
Leo snorted. He was a real ass.
“Dillon,” she said. “His name is Dillon.”
“Matt Dillon?” Leo smirked.
She opened her mouth, then snapped it closed. “Dillon is his first name. I don’t remember his last name. Grandpa might know.”
“Your grandfather was in the bank?” Leo asked.
“No, the man was at my home this morning.” She suddenly
realized how she sounded. “He’s not really my guardian angel, but he did save my life,” she told RJ. She sighed and closed her eyes. No one was going to believe a word she said. It sounded too ludicrous.
“We’ll take you to ER and have Doc check you out.” RJ and his partner wheeled the cot to the back of the ambulance and loaded it. She was glad when RJ was the one who climbed in with her. On the ride to the hospital she couldn’t stop wondering what happened to the man who saved her life.
The next few hours were a blur. She’d never answered so many questions in her life. Even Sheriff Barnes grilled her about the bank robbery.
Then Grandpa came to the emergency room after she told him not to, but at least he called Tilly to bring him. The woman was a blessing. Not only did she take in guests at her bed and breakfast, but she let Grandpa stay if she had a spare room and at no charge when Raine worked. She said it was nice to have a man around. Apparently, they were no longer angry with each other.
Grandpa and Tilly went for coffee. Why, she had no idea.
The caffeine would keep him up for hours. She glanced at the clock. The doctor agreed to let her go home after she badgered him, but only if she stayed another thirty minutes for observation.
She’d already been there two hours, wasn’t that enough?
“It was the angel who saved her,” Grandpa stated boldly from the other side of the curtain. “Her guardian angel pushed her out of the way and saved her from a bullet.”
“Where is the angel now, Mr. McCandless?” a man asked.
Raine’s eyebrows drew together. “Grandpa, who are you
talking to?”
“That guy from the Randolph Tribune. He’s doing a piece
on the holdup.” He cleared his throat. “Dillon, that’s the angel’s name, he wasn’t in the bank. He disappeared. Whoosh! Maybe he went back to his ranch.”
“The angel owns a ranch?” The reporter barely contained his humor.
“Grandpa, I think that’s enough with the stories.”
“It’s fine, baby girl.”
“The ranch?” the reporter urged.
Raine moved the pillow from under her head and covered her face. Was it possible to suffocate herself? Or would she pass out first? It might be worth a try.
“Oh, yeah, he owns a ranch with some other nephilim.”
“Nephilim? I thought you said he was an angel.”
“Young fella, don’t you read your bible? It’s as plain as the nose on your face. You can read all about them in the Good Book.”
“Grandpa,” she wailed.
“Now, Sock, what are you doing that’s causing so much distress to your granddaughter?” Tilly asked. “My goodness, I go to the powder room for a few minutes, and look what trouble you get into.”
“Weren’t no trouble. I was just tellin’ this reporter fella about the angel that saved Raine.”
“Did you see the angel?” the reporter eagerly asked.
“If I did,” Tilly said, “I certainly wouldn’t be telling you. Now shoo before I spill my coffee.”
The curtain slid open. Raine kept the pillow over her face.
“Take me home,” she said, pretty sure they could understand her.
She wanted to go home and crawl under the striped down comforter on her bed and sleep for at least ten hours. Her body ached from when she’d landed on that blasted hardwood floor.
But an hour and a half passed before she got her wish. She barely remembered the drive home or falling into bed. She finally dragged her eyes open at ten the next morning and pulled on her clothes. When Grandpa proudly showed her the front page of the newspaper, she wished she could go back to bed and sleep forever.
“Lookee here, baby girl, you’re famous.”
The headlines were big and bold.
Bank Robbed! Deputy Swears Angel Saved Her Life!
Raine groaned. It reminded her of the cheap tabloids at the checkout in the supermarket. Grandpa unfolded the paper.
When had the reporter snapped a picture? She peered a little closer. She was on the ER cot and her eyes were closed. The damn reporter had added a caricature of a grinning angel standing beside her bed.
Raine wished the blasted angel would go to Hell!
Chapter 7
Dillon hadn’t been plagued by Sock’s incessant prayers, so he supposed the old man didn’t have anything to complain about.
“I’m glad someone is happy,” he muttered, bringing his hammer down hard enough to bury the staple in the cedar post. “Yeah, they always take and take and take, then forget about you after they get what they want.” He reached inside the leather tool belt tied around his waist and brought out another staple, but dropped it.
What was wrong with him? He should be thrilled he didn’t have to listen to the old man’s monotonous stories about life before corporations began to take over t
he world and run the government. He’d been there, too. He paused, hammer drawn back. Sock’s stories were a lot more fun to hear, though. He was a born storyteller.
Dillon frowned. The old man was still a pain in the ass, though, and he was glad he didn’t have to listen to him.
Or feel Raine’s body pressed against his or imagine how it would feel to sink inside her body…
“Damnation!” Why did he even think about her? She wasn’t his type. From what Sock said, she could get bossy and she was a workaholic. So what if her skin was soft beneath his fingers?
He was thinking about her again. It seemed that was all he did lately, no matter how hard he tried not to. He shoved his hand inside the tan leather pouch again and brought out another staple, spilling several on the ground. He didn’t bother to pick them up. Before the day was finished, he would stop thinking about her! He reared his hand back and brought the hammer down as hard as he could.
The hammer slammed into his thumb.
Throbbing pain shot up his arm, then spiraled down to his toes before shooting back up to the top of his head. He bellowed out a string of curses, threw the hammer down, and grabbed the post as lights flashed in front of him. His thumb burned to hell and back.
Nephilim could feel pain, and right now he was feeling a hell of a lot. He closed his eyes and clamped his lips together, waiting for the healing to come. Deep breath, he told himself. Deep breath and focus.
The ache slowly began to ease. This was only his thumb and he knew it wouldn’t take long to heal. Not as long as it took him to heal after getting shot during the bank robbery. Man, bullets stung.
His strained muscles relaxed. He eased his glove off, but he didn’t need to be careful. His thumb was fine. To be certain, he moved it back and forth. No pain. Nothing. As good as new.
Nothing ever changed.
He leaned his arm against the post, drawing in a deep breath.
No, nothing ever changed. Answering prayers was a thankless job. Had he done the right thing helping them? As soon as that thought came to him, he quickly dismissed it. Taking the bullet that night had been his only choice. He couldn’t let Raine die.
A tender smile curved his lips. Her reaction had surprised him.
Concern and worry shone in her eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone cared about his welfare. Sure, Chance, Ryder, and Hunter cared, but they shared a bond of loyalty and brotherhood that was unbreakable. Their feelings were expected. Raine was an outsider. He barely knew her, and most of that was from what Sock told him. Why should she care what happened to him?