Page 115 of Forbidden Bond

Prepared didn’t cover it. Lachlan had a sewing kit right there in the med box.

After she splashed some alcohol over the needle, Strat moved the gauze. She took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” Marseille asked. She didn’t even know which of them the woman was talking to. “Do you want more liquor?”

The bottle was thrust into her peripheral vision.

“No more,” Strat said. “I’ll have to drive later.” They could crash there, except Conn would eventually get word she wasn’t around. Then what? He’d tear up the city if she didn’t put herself in front of him. “And I might not be done shooting.”

Her friend wasn’t the macho type. Refusing wasn’t his way of showing his toughness, it was a signal the danger may not be permanently gone.

“You… you were shooting?”

“Do you have a way to contact Lachlan?” she asked Marseille while still sewing. “A number you call or…?”

“Uh, yeah, I… I’m only supposed to call in an emergency.”

In a static beat, her eyes met Strat’s. With the needle still in hand, propped on Strat, she gestured at the medical supplies and blood stained… everything, unable to hide her incredulity.

“What do you think this is?”

Getting angry with Marseille didn’t help the situation. Conn. Trouble. Danger. All she could think about was her man. Wasn’t so long ago she’d gone through the same thing after he was shot. If she wasn’t killed by a wicked Byrne, high blood pressure would end her.

Self-conscious, Marseille disappeared into the bedroom.

“Go easy,” Strat said in his forever calm father voice. “Woman just woke up to this.”

“We all just woke up to this.” Clenching her teeth, the frustration didn’t go anywhere. “Didn’t we just get over the last time I lost him?”

“You never lost him, kid. And, I’m sorry to say, this is the life.” The one he’d told her it wasn’t easy to live. “It ends this way, one day, for both of you.”

She couldn’t doubt the wisdom in his eyes. “I’m destined to be dead in an alley somewhere?”

“You won’t get dead, not so long as I’m around.” He’d proved not only his skill, but his commitment to her too. “Ire’s not so easy to protect.”

Marseille came in, phone at her ear. “Yeah, they just showed up and I—”

“Is that my brother?”

“Your brother?”

Finishing with the needle, she knotted it and cut the string. She’d dress the wound after getting an update from the man who’d raised her.

“Give it here.” Snatching the phone from Marseille, adrenaline drove her mood. “What is going on, Lach? Why have you—where are you?” Checking he wasn’t in imminent danger took precedence over complaining. “Are you still with Dad?”

“How did you end up there? Everyone’s going crazy. Terrified to tell Ire you’re missing.”

“I’m not missing just… temporarily waylaid. Where is he?”

“Still at the club, last I heard.”

“Last you heard? What does that mean? Last you heard?”

“What happened?” He ducked the question. “Tell me why you’re with Marseille.”

“It’s a long story,” she said, pushing her bangs up from her face. “Strat got shot.”

“You shot him?”

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