Page 4 of Shane

Which was good for McKay. It got her out of his way, but the sudden slam of her body onto the highway hurt like a bitch. Shit! If she didn’t have bad luck, she wouldn’t have any. Finch had taken her out of the game. One minute she was in her zone, triumphant! A winner! The next, she was a shooting vic with a pounding migraine from bouncing her head on asphalt. Not only out of the game, she had a bullet stuck in her chest. WTF!

“Not fair!” she wheezed, because, hey, even one bullet messed up a girl’s day, and yeah, breathing really hurt.

Thunder erupted as Officer McKay returned fire. Two shots—she counted. But no answering volley. Good. McKay hadn’t been hit, but she was willing to bet her paycheck that Finch had. And yeah, her.

Jiminy Christmas!She could hear Alex. He already thought she was a hazard to herself and his TEAM. What would he say now? Man, she had the worst luck of all TEAM agents.

“Officer involved shooting!” McKay yelled into the radio Velcroed to his vest shoulder. “TEAM agent down! Mile marker sixty-nine on Highway 15. Request EMT and TEAM support, STAT!”

Great. Just freaking great. No doubt Walker was already on his way. He knew I’d mess up.

“Not… down, down… R-R-Ralph,” Everlee wheezed, her lungs spasming back into working order, but her heart pounding so hard, it felt like there wasn’t enough room in her chest for both organs to do their thing at the same time. “Bullet hit my… my vest. Not my h-head.”No, I did that all by myself when I fell on my ass.

McKay rolled his big, hazel-green eyes at her like he thought that was the stupidest comeback ever, which it might’ve been. But there was down, and then there was way, way dowwwwwn, as in kicking up daisies six feet under down.

“Shit,” she hissed at herself. “Breathe, Yeager. Just… Christ! Breathe!”

Easier said than done. The force of any shot to the chest was a rib-busting powerful jolt of super-charged kinetic energy. Just what she didn’t need, another OTJ injury. If this run of bad luck didn’t end soon, Alex would fire her for sure.

While McKay jerked Finch’s passenger door open, secured his weapons and checked for vital signs, Everlee focused on trying to catch a full breath. She needed to be on her feet before Walker or the medics arrived. But the dynamics of any gunshot created enough muscular trauma to a body, even a body with a tactical vest, to stall quick recovery.

Too bad people didn’t take a hit and just bounce back up like make-believe heroes in Hollywood action films. Uh-uh. Even with Kevlar tactical vests the same rule applied. For every action, there was a guaranteed reaction. And a bullet in the chest was nothing to laugh at. Mainly because she still couldn’t catch enough air to get her right lung to inflate so she could laugh properly at Finch’s demise like she’d planned to.

Alex made sure his men and women were protected by something better than Kevlar. Whatever it was, Everlee was glad for it now. She blew out a hiss and studied the robin’s egg blue Virginia sky overhead. Might as well. She wasn’t going anywhere. The sun was still mostly in the east, making the blue even bluer instead of washed out like it would be later in the day. It was a beautiful summer morning. But she had to go and get shot.Damn it!

The EMTs were Johnny-on-the-spot and arrived before she could pull herself up into hey-I’m-okay, leave-me-alone-land. As if they would. Not these guys.

“Humor me,” EMT Rich Slavich, another Virginia buddy she’d made since she’d left Seattle, instructed. “You know the drill. When you take one to the chest, tactical vest or not, you come with us. Mr. Stewart’s orders. Stop whining like a spoiled brat.”

“Not whining.” Damn it, she whimpered even when she tried to sound tough. “Just want to finish what I started, you jerk.”

Everlee curled her fingers into a fist and gave his bulky biceps the weakest knuckle smack ever. No way she’d hurt Rich. The guy was built like a bull, his biceps thick and tight inside that short-sleeved shirt.

Like the good sport he was, he played along, rolled with the punch, even had the nerve to wince as if she’d hurt him. “Anyone ever tell you that you hit like a girl, Yeager?”

“Iama girl, moron. Anyone ever tell you most women are tougher than most guys?”

“Yeah, yeah. How’s that working for you?”

She strained to suck in a decent breath. “Honestly, that hit hurt a little, Rich. But only a little. I’m okay. Honest.”

Rich nodded, patronizing her even as he slipped the cold end of his stethoscope down her TEAM polo and placed it over her breastbone. He cocked his head to listen and reverted into the highly-trained first responder he was. Until then, she hadn’t noticed he’d unbuttoned her shirt. She tried not to notice how warm the tips of his fingers were on her skin. How his Adam’s apple bobbed when those manly fingers grazed the pillowy tops of her breasts. He was a good-looking guy, but he was married. All the good guys were.

“Hey, watch it, Romeo. That thing’s c-c-cold and…” Her heart skipped a beat, as in, it really jumped inside her chest. Kinda like it wanted out. Or it was playing hopscotch.

“You felt that, didn’t you?” Rich asked, his baby blue eyes flashing to hers.

“Yeah. I did. What was it?”

“A minor palpitation. Nothing to worry about unless it keeps happening or it gets out of control. I’ll pass that detail along to the ER doc so he or she can take a listen.”

“Do you have to?” The big jerk was smiling. “Stop patronizing me, damn it!”

Rich grinned. “Wouldn’t think of it. Just taking care of my best girl.”

“How many best girls do you have, anyway?”

He had the nerve to shrug those huge shoulders, which made his shirt tighten across his chest even more. His eyes sparkled with mischief. “Guess you’ll never know, will you?”

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