Page 93 of Welker

As if hearing her question, Hayden filled her in. “I shot him in the upper thigh, just a few centimeters from his groin,” she informed Moira. “I figured that would slow him down.”

Moira tried not to laugh, not only because it was a little rude, but she figured the jostling might hurt her ribs. Still, she had to speak her mind. “The way he’s crying, it sounds like you shot him in the dick.”

Hayden responded with a straight face, but Moira could see her cheek twitching with humor. “That would have been next. If he’d shaken off my first shot, his little man-parts were second in my sights.”

Pidge wailed even louder at that, and now Moira let out a small chuckle.

Low and behold, it didn’t feel too bad.

“Okay you two. Stop messing with the man’s head. Honey-bun, are we going to let Moira up, or not?” Boone questioned, bringing the conversation back around.

Hayden pondered for a second. “Not that I don’t think you’re a bad-ass and fully capable, Moira, but here’s the deal. If you let my husband pick you up and carry you out back, I’ll concede. I don’t want Welker to lose his shit that we didn’t take care of you.”

Moira didn’t hesitate. It sounded like a great idea, getting lugged, and far better than face-planting, which might easily be the outcome if she tried to make it out back under her own steam.

“Hell yes,” she replied.

Boone came forward, bent over, and gently lifted her like she was made entirely of fluff. It struck Moira as pretty funny, her new position, and she couldn’t help her sassy side from coming out.

“Yeehaw, Boone! Giddyap.”

They left Hayden laughing like a hyena on the front lawn.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The first thing Welker saw when he pulled to a sharp stop in front of Margaret’s house, were the bodies. Two of them down, with Hayden pacing between them.

He threw open his door.

“Where’s Moira?”

He was imagining the worst. She’d been hurt…or kidnapped. She’d been taken to the hospital by ambulance, on death’s door. He rushed to Hayden’s side.

The deputy gave him a huge, reassuring smile.

“Chill, Welk. She’s out back with Boone, getting Margaret out of hiding.”

Welker felt his whole body go loose. Moira was fine. She hadn’t been?—

“She, uh, might have had a little tussle with Mick beforehand, however,” Hayden warned. “She’s not exactly walking under her own steam yet.”

When Welker took a step toward the back yard, Hayden stopped him with a quick hand to his arm. “She’s fine, Welk. Her breathing is normal. She’s just a little banged up, and Boone’s got her. We insisted she use my husband for transport until she could get checked out, because when I wanted to call immediately for an ambulance, Moira was equally as insistent that we wait for your team to show up. She was afraid the call might be heard by the sheriff, and he’d try to come in and take over.”

His smart woman, Welker thought. But what if her injuries had been life threatening? What then?

Hayden must have seen where his thoughts had taken him. “Uh, uh. There’s no need to borrow trouble. So far, so good. And I’m assuming Alvero is on his way and will assess Moira’s condition.”

Yup. Alvi would be on scene within minutes. Welker nodded.

“Great, but we’re not completely out of this, yet. Mason is going to have to use all his persuasive skills to keep the evidence Moira gathered to himself until we have everything else we need to go in and arrest Gladstone and company.”

Welker blinked. “Moira was able to get Mick to talk?” he asked, glancing over at the presumptive head of the 227 MC who was currently…hog-tied and gagged with some kind of jute rope? Welker couldn’t wait to hear all about that one.

“So she says,” Hayden answered. “I haven’t heard what she actually got.”

“If Moira says she has what she needs, she does,” Welker stated succinctly, but he was finished talking. He needed to see his woman with his own eyes.

He began jogging toward the side of the house, but before he turned the corner, the trio appeared; Margaret, walking spryly, and Boone with Moira cradled in his arms. A possessive growl attempted to escape from Welker’s throat at the sight, but he swallowed it down. Boone was not just happily married, for God’s sake, he was ecstatically married, and Welker knew, full-well, that Boone was just making sure Moira didn’t overdo before she got checked over.

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