Page 113 of Forbidden Bond

The woman’s tension loosened a little. “Sersha?”

“Jane Doe… Shit.”

Marseille swung her aim to land it on Strat.

“No!” she said, leaping in front of him. “He’s a friend, my friend, we can trust him.”

Strat dropped the lock on the door. “Now it’s a party.”

Marseille was still there. Conn hadn’t moved her. He’d have his reasons, but the woman’s presence was turning out to be a dangerous variable.

“Will you put the gun down?” she asked, arms out in front of her as she gestured calm. “Please, Marseille.”

The weapon dropped to her side. In a nightgown, hair loose, she must’ve been asleep… and terrified.

“I’m sorry.” Sersha dumped her bag. “We didn’t know you were still here. Why are you still here?”

“It’s safe here,” Marseille said, putting the gun on a side table. “Why did you come?”

“Because…” Going into the kitchen, she grabbed a couple of things and put them on the coffee table. “Can you get me the med kit from the bathroom, please? It’s—”

“Under the sink. Lachlan showed me.”

Without thought, the woman disappeared into the other room. Her mouth fell open, and her wide eyes rounded to Strat.

Cradling his arm, he came to sit with her. “The cop wasn’t supposed to know she was here, huh?”

She helped him ease his shirt from the sticky wound.

“I told Conn, he said he’d handle it.” And for some reason, that meant sending her brother over? How had that come about? So many questions. “I guess this is his way of… that.” She winced at the injury on his shoulder. “I’d say it’s just muscle, but…”

That wouldn’t lessen its pain.

“So I shouldn’t work out so much, I’m too jacked, that what you’re saying to me?”

Still smiling. Even in pain, Strat was more interested in ensuring she was okay than he was in looking out for himself. Not just physically, but the smile meant to ease her heart’s pain, her guilt’s too.

Marseille came rushing back in and put the kit on the table. “Can I do anything?”

“Boil some water.”

The woman went off to do that.

“I’m nowhere near capable of—”

“Dig out the bullet,” Strat said, “sew up the hole. It’s as simple as that.”

“Says the patient to the reaper.”

He laughed. “Just muscle you said, you can’t kill me. No, I take that back, you, Scamp, if anyone could find a way to—”

“Don’t make this worse.”

She cleaned around the wound, trying to find the edges and figure out how the hell she’d do this. Hurting her friend would break her heart. Like she’d said his would be if the McDades revoked their need of his services.

Where would she be if Strat hadn’t been the one with her? Daly would have skill, Hock, Snuff… But Strat didn’t blink, hespotted their tail, knew how to tear up the streets and lead them exactly where he wanted them. The length and width of that alley were no coincidence. She’d bet it was no coincidence the shady parking lot was there either, in the dark, far from cameras and prying eyes. Filled with cars he could easily jack.

She forgot just how long, and how deep, he’d once existed in this underworld.

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