Page 4 of Back the Blue

That thought stops me dead in my tracks.

Dead.

Someone out there wanted to kill me.

My breath hitches in my chest and the hallway seems to tilt. A strangled sound leaves my throat without my permission as I reach out to steady myself. Then my knees buckle. And my vision blurs. I exhale heavily as I prepare to meet the floor in an ungrateful heap. Instead, two arms lock around me to hold me up. My hands instinctively grip whomever it is. And then I’m quickly lifted into those arms and carried off as my head falls back on my shoulders.

“Find me a bed,” the agent growls. “She’s going into shock.”

Time passes without my knowledge. I hear the medical team speaking and I know what they’re saying but comprehension is beyond me. Finally, things go quiet. But I’m not alone. There’s pressure on my right hand. And I hear someone else breathing. With a great amount of effort, I open my eyes.

And my breath catches again at the sight before me.

It’s the FBI agent. His face is hovering over mine and it’s etched with concern.

For me.

“How do you feel?” he asks softly.

“I…I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “This is all new for you.”

“And it’s not for you?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

My jaw drops. His grip on my hand tightens. And I ask the obvious.

“How many times have you been shot?”

He chuckles at this. And I frown while I wait for his response.

“Do you want the count of the bullets that hit my vest? Or my flesh?”

For whatever reason, tears prick my eyes. Prompting the agent’s brow to furrow as he gently brushes his free hand over my cheek. The contact causes my breath to leave me in a soft exhale. And even though I have a million more questions, just one more leaves me.

“What’s your name?”

He grins at this. A very sexy, mischievous grin. Then he answers me.

“Pitbull.”

My jaw drops. And his grin widens into a panty-melting smile.

“Stop fucking with me,” I snap.

“I am not.”

“Bullshit.”

“Fine,” he nods. “I’ll prove it to you.”

He straightens a bit and shouts someone’s name. But he never takes his eyes off me. In a few seconds, another agent walks in.

“Agent Bant, tell Miss Lorna what my name is.”

“Pitbull, sir.”

---