“I’m on way. Did you call 911?”
“Yes. They’re on my phone.”
“Where’s the wound?”
“His stomach.” Her voice broke. She could only imagine how many organs were torn up. “He’s bleeding pretty badly.”
“Put pressure on it. A coat, a shirt, something. Just wad it up and press it hard, as hard as you can.”
He’d been carrying his suit coat. Feeling around on the floor, she found it, quickly folded it into a pillow, and pressed it against his stomach, clutching the phone against her ear with her shoulder.
“Harder,” Elias said. “I didn’t hear him groan. Don’t be afraid to hurt him. It’ll take a lot of force to stem internal bleeding.”
She did as he said, pushing more of her weight on her hands, braced over Colby’s stomach, but he didn’t groan. Not her tough soldier cop. Though his eyes tightened and he sucked in his breath, his lips twisting in a grimace. “How much longer?”
As if on cue, she heard the roar of an engine outside and a distant siren. Elias raced down the basement steps and crouched down beside her. He immediately checked Colby’s pulse in his throat.
“Hey, partner.” Colby’s voice was weaker, but he managed a ghost of a smile. “Black Suburban, no license plate, tinted windows. The shooter had a black stocking hat pulled down over his face, white T-shirt, tats on the backs of his hands. Nice rifle. Real fancy, silver stock, custom piece. I returned fire. Got him in the chest. Might have got the driver too.”
“Good work, buddy. I’ll put out an alert to the hospitals to watch for them. Ambulance is almost here.” Elias took his hand and squeezed. “You did real good.”
“Mal.”
“She’s fine,” Elias said, at the same time that Mal said, “I’m here.”
“Sorry.” Colby’s voice caught and he closed his eyes a moment. “Didn’t want you to see this side.”
Elias gave her a slight shake of his head, his eyes tight. She wasn’t sure what he was trying to warn her off from saying, and she refused to consider that he might be trying to warn her that Colby’s condition was bad. No way. No how.
She made herself laugh, a low, wicked threat of all the terrible things she wanted to do to him. His eyes flickered back open and locked onto her face. “You’re not scaring me away so easily, detective. I’ve got plans for you.”
“Yeah?”
“Promise.”
Elias stood and went to the door, calling the EMTs. Two men and a woman were suddenly there, competent, calm hands sliding over hers and taking over. They didn’t have to tell her to make way so they could take better care of him. The woman already had an IV in, and in seconds, they had him on the stretcher and already taking him out the door. She went up the short flight after them but immediately froze.
Baby Jesus in a manger. Every cop in Dallas had raced toward Colby’s apartment, or so it looked. The street was crammed with police cars, whirling lights, uniformed officers. Elias took her arm and lead her toward his truck. “I’ll drive you. We’ll follow the ambulance. That’ll give them more room to work.”
Her ears buzzed and the sirens and lights created an eerie landscape that didn’t even seem real. Colby couldn’t be hurt. He couldn’t—
“He’s going to be okay,” she said aloud. The volume and harsh tone of her own voice made her jump.
“Yeah,” Elias replied grimly as he started the truck and pulled out after the ambulance.
“He is,” she said again, firmer and calmer. I will it to be so. I won’t accept any other alternative. Colby’s fine. He’s fine, and he’s mine.
17
She’d never seen so many cops in her life. They lined the hallway and crowded the waiting room, all drinking coffee and quietly talking amongst themselves. A few kept casting curious glances her way, and she heard the whispers. Not disrespectful, but they were definitely talking. Elias sat beside her, fielding questions and deflecting anyone who approached like a guard dog. She was holding it together until Vicki Connagher came racing in with her young man. Without hesitation, Vicki wrapped her arms around her and suddenly Mal couldn’t hold the waterworks in any longer.
She hated to cry. She couldn’t even recall the last time she’d broken down like this. But the thought of Colby lying hurt and bleeding…
Her friends crowded closer. Elias, Vicki and Jesse, shielding her from the curious prying eyes of the other cops. Then Victor and Shiloh were there too. Someone passed her a pack of tissues.
“It’s all right,” Vicki whispered, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “He’s going to be fine.”
Mal sniffed and wiped her eyes, pulling herself back together enough to talk. “Sorry. You’re right. He’s in good hands. We got him here quickly.”
“You don’t have to be sorry. This is my worst nightmare.” Vicki shuddered and Elias’s arms came around her, Jesse pressing against her back, offering comfort. “If it was Elias in there, I’d be out here wailing at the top of my lungs.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” Elias said in a gruff voice, though he squeezed her tighter. “You’d be too busy yelling at me to stop bleeding.”
“Reyes,” an older man with silvered hair called from several feet away.
Elias nodded. “Our lieutenant. Excuse me a moment.”
The two talked quietly and then approached the group.
“Mal, this is Lieutenant Greaves. He’d like to ask you a few questions while everything’s fresh in your mind.”
“Sure.”
Another officer joined them, taking notes as she told them what had happened. Though she couldn’t say much. It’d all happened so quickly. She hadn’t even gotten a good look at the SUV before Colby had shut the door behind her.
“Do you remember how many shots you heard?”
She couldn’t help but shudder at the memory. “First there was a lot all fast, together, like Fourth of July fireworks going off at the same time.”
“AK-47,” Elias said grimly. “Colby said it had a fancy silver stock, likely custom.”
“Then two, no three shots. Tires squealing, and then nothing. I ran back and found him collapsed against the door.”
“Did you see anything that might help us track down the shooters?”
She pictured the SUV in her mind as it rolled up, window slowly sliding down. There had been a man in the window. It was dark, and he’d had on dark clothing. But something… She closed her eyes, letting the image build. A flash of silver, the gun probably. His hand lifting it into position. “A red triangle. On the back of his hand.”
Opening her eyes, she looked from Elias to the other men. That red triangle was significant. Though they all had that closed-mouth blank cop look on their faces. “That’s bad, isn’t it?”
Elias met his lieutenant’s gaze. “Guess we hit a little too close to home.”
“Does that mean you’re in danger too?” Vicki retorted.
“Thank you, ma’am.” Lieutenant Graves took Mal’s hand in his. “If you need anything, you let us know. Detective Reyes is at your disposal and will contact me at once with any change in Detective Wade’s condition. I’ve already notified his family. Sounds like they’re on their way now but it’ll take them a couple of hours to get here.”
The two cops walked off, voices low. Others met them at the door, took their orders, and immediately cleared the room, leaving just Elias and her friends.
“Well?” Vicki planted her fists on her hips and glared at Elias.
“Let’s just say every cop in the narcotics division just went on high alert.” He waited while Vicki exploded into a fit of cursing and pacing back and forth. “That red triangle belongs to one of the cartels we’ve been investigating. That tells us which one needs to be hit hardest first before this entire city takes a blood bath.”
“And what about you?”
He drew her back into his arms, dropping his chin on her head. “Aw, Vic, don’t worry about me, babe. I’m in the safest place in the world, right here
by your side.”
A doctor stepped into the room and everybody immediately turned to him, eager for news. “The detective is stable. He lost a lot of blood, and we’re taking him back for surgery now to repair the damage. I won’t know the extent until we get in there, but I’m suspecting at least some small bowel damage. Nothing we can’t repair though.”
“So he’s going to be okay?” Mal asked, pleased her voice didn’t shake.
“It’s early, but I’m sure he’ll have a very good prognosis.”
Her knees weakened and she sat down quickly before she embarrassed herself. “Thank you, doctor.”
“Might as well get comfortable,” Victor said. “It’s going to be a long night. Mal, can I get you some coffee?”
She nodded, suddenly too tired to even speak. She allowed the back of her head to touch the wall.
Vicki sat beside her and took her hand in hers. “You heard the doctor. Colby’s going to be okay.”
“I know.” But the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach didn’t go away. In fact, it grew, a cold ball of lead that would crush the life out of her. This was a cop’s life. Every time he went out the door, he might be shot at, stabbed, killed in a car chase. She’d known he had a dangerous job from the beginning. But the reality…
Sucked. Big time.
Because she didn’t want him to be in danger. She wanted him safe. Happy. Whole. Not unable to sleep or eat, killing himself with guilt and responsibility for her, his partner, everybody in the entire fucking city.
“How do you do this?” She asked Vicki softly, hoping that Elias wouldn’t hear. She didn’t want to appear weak, or make him think she’d try and force Colby to quit with an ultimatum. Even though that was exactly what she wanted to do.
“I don’t,” Vicki whispered back, squeezing her hand. “I’m terrified. All. The. Time. Once, when we had a fight, he wouldn’t pick up when I called him. Then we heard on the news that a cop had been gunned down. I swear, I lost at least ten years off my life until we got him on the phone and knew he was all right.”
“Did you kick his ass?”
Vicki snorted. “More or less. He promised he’d never do that again. If I called, he’d answer. Period. That way I knew when he was in danger, even if he was pissed at me. He promised that once he gets promoted that he’ll ask for a transfer to a less dangerous division. With my luck, he’ll probably end up on some super secret intelligence squad and he won’t be able to tell me anything about where he is or what he’s doing.”
“Someone offered Colby a job today.”
“Oh?” Elias overheard that bit and went on full alert. “Who?”
“I don’t know. Some Special Agent.”
“Humph. I bet it was someone in the DEA. That’d be a good fit for him.”
“He turned her down.”
“Interesting.” Elias gave her a look that she couldn’t decipher. “He hasn’t said what he plans to do next?”
“Nope.”
“And you haven’t put the screws to him, trying to make him quit?”
She gave him a look of disdain that he’d have no difficulty deciphering. “Oh, I’ve put screws to him, but I haven’t said a single word about trying to get him to quit.”
“You don’t like this.”
“Well, fuck, no, I don’t, Detective Reyes.” She stood slowly, narrowing her eyes and focusing her will on him. He bristled, jaw jutting out, showing his alpha dog side. “But that doesn’t mean I’d try and make him quit his job if that’s what he wants to do.”
Jesse, of all people, stepped closer to Elias and put a hand on his shoulder, whispering something to him. Jesse might be one of the most submissive men Mal had ever seen, but he had no fear approaching his Domme’s other lover, even when Elias was starting to show teeth. In fact, Elias immediately acquiesced. He even fucking apologized.
“I’m sorry, Mal. I’ve got no right to question you. I’m worried about him and snapping at you won’t help anybody, least of all him.”
“I want him to quit, yeah” she replied quietly. “But I’ll never ask it of him. If he chooses to walk away, it’s on him and him alone.”
“And you’ll fucking celebrate if he chooses to leave,” Vicki said in a firm, no nonsense voice that made Jesse soften and Elias stiffen, though he nodded. “We’ll all celebrate. Because he’s alive and happy and doing what he wants.”
“Damn right,” Mal said. Please, let it be soon. Let him be all right.
A few moments went by and the tension in the room settled a bit. Everyone breathed easier, knowing that Colby was likely going to be okay. But Mal noticed that Jesse still had a hand on Elias’s shoulder, and even more interesting, the cop didn’t seem to mind. She glanced at Vicki, noting the soft look of overwhelming affection in her eyes. “Colby asked me to the Policeman’s Ball.”
Vicki jerked her attention to Mal, with a brilliant smile to match the dazzle in her eyes. “Oh! A new dress!”
“Will you have time?”
She dug into her purse and pulled out a small sketchbook and pencil. “That’s a silly question. This is the perfect way to pass the time. Let’s see…”
And she was right. The soft scratch of lead on paper, watching a fanciful dress unfold, was the perfect distraction. Mal lost track of time, watching her friend sketch out several dresses, page after page. But one in particular caught her eye. “Go back. Yeah. That one.”
Vicki gave her a Cheshire cat smile. “I thought you might like it the most.”
Mal tilted her head a bit, letting the vision unfold in her mind. Vicki’s notes said antique cream with heritage lace. Lace wasn’t usually Mal’s taste, but the long, elegant lines of the dress were enhanced by soft falls of lace. It looked old fashioned, vintage, and yet perfectly her. Except for one thing. “It seems very… bridal.”
Vicki laughed as she wrapped an arm around Mal’s shoulders and hugged her. “Exactly.”
Marriage wasn’t something she’d thought about, not for a very long time. The Mistress of Dallas flirted as she wished, breaking submissive hearts left and right. It’d been fun, a long reign of play and casual relationships that had been exactly what she needed as she established her career at VCONN. Whips and chains, latex and collars, the club life had made her into the Mistress she was today. The Mistress who’d been ready and able to help a mentally wounded soldier overcome his issues. The woman who couldn’t wait to take her wounded cop home and help him heal once and for all.
Whether he wore her collar or not, Colby was hers.
18
The nurses kept telling him that Mal was fine, but he wouldn’t believe them until they finally let him see her. She came and took his hand in both of hers, squeezing firmly as if she wasn’t ever going to let go. Her tears just about killed him. Because he didn’t want to ever give her cause to cry again.
“They didn’t hurt you? Did they? You’re really all right?”
“Oh, sugar.” She kissed the back of his hand. “How could they have hurt me when you shielded me with your own body until I was inside?”
“I’m sorry.” The words choked him, his throat raw. Pain was nothing, danger was nothing. As long as she was safe. He’d put her in harm’s way just by being with him. He wanted to tell her that it’d never happen again, that he’d already gotten a new job. But Elias stepped up and squeezed his other shoulder.
“Don’t even think it. You did the best you could, and you were right. You got the shooter. Greaves is leading the calvary to wipe the streets on the East side as we speak. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there with you, partner.”
“What, so you could both get shot?” Mal retorted.
“Mal’s right.” Colby tried to keep his eyes open, but the happy drugs must be kicking in. “Not your fault. Not anybody’s fault. Can’t be responsible for everybody and everything that happens.”
Mal kissed his knuckles again, wetting his skin with her tears.
“He needs to rest now,” the nurse said firmly. Colby m
anaged to peel his eyes open enough to see the firm, I’m-not-leaving look on Mal’s face. The nurse blinked, nodded, and shooed everybody else out.
Elias scooted a chair over for her, and Mal sat close, holding Colby’s hand with her left, so she could stroke his cheek with her other hand. “I may never let you out of my sight again, sugar.”
He smiled as he drifted away. That’d be all right by me.
Mal jerked awake when the door opened and three people rushed in. An older man, undeniably Colby’s father, his mother, and a young girl around eight or nine years old, a blonde, blue-eyed cutie. Braced for nastiness, Mal stood, trying not to wince at the kinks in her back. She had no idea how Colby’s family would take him dating an older-than-him black woman, but chances were good that they’d never approve. Another bridge they’d have to cross.
“Shhh,” Colby’s mother told the other man. “Don’t wake him.” She turned to Mal, a hesitant but polite smile on her face as she whispered, “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“I’m Malinda Kannes. I’m…” His Mistress? Girlfriend? Fiancée? That’s what she wanted to say, but would he be all right with coming out like that to his family?
“I’m Sarah, my husband David, and granddaughter, Amelia. Have you talked to the doctor?”
Mal started to move away from the bed so not to wake Colby, but as soon as she tried to let go of his hand, his eyes opened, and he clung harder to her.
“Mom, Dad?”
“Hey, son. Sorry it took us awhile to get here.”
His father patted him gruffly on the shoulder and his mother burst into tears. She leaned down, hugging him, and he awkwardly tried to hug her back, but the tubes in his other arm caught on the bed rail. “I’m fine, Mom. Really. This is my girlfriend, Mal.”
The granddaughter’s baby blues widened. David’s mouth fell open. Sarah straightened slowly, giving Mal a long once over. She could almost feel the temperature dipping in the room.
But then Amelia squealed and launched herself against Mal, practically squeezed the life out of her. “Finally! Mom always says she’s given up on Uncle Colby ever settling down!”
The Connaghers Series Boxed Set Page 98