Page 29 of The Chief's Captive

I rest my head against the headrest and close my eyes. Finn shuts the door as I hold his torn shirt to my wound, and then he drives. I feel nauseous as the car bumps over the road and I struggle to stay conscious due to pain, but when I look down at the wound, I know it's not bleeding as badly as Finn thinks. Maeve can fix this easily, but I should be out on the hunt.

But maybe this is what I need to do right now. Maybe Finn is protecting me from something worse. I know in my weakened state, Eamon would destroy me. I have to be careful what I do, and Finn is only trying to help.

But this isn't over.

If Declan and Loch come back without Eamon's head, I'm going to make a plan to go out and get it myself. He won't get away with this.

20

MAEVE

I'm lying on the sofa reading a book when I hear a car pull up outside. Ronan left in such a hurry, he never got a chance to answer my question about my taking a pledge to work for him. I don't know what he'll say, but the shouting before and the hurried way he left makes me think tonight isn't a good night to talk about it. He's probably dealing with some deranged emergency and if I push him at the wrong time, he'll snap again. It would destroy any progress we've made.

I sit up when I hear the front door open, and I set the book on the antique table near the end of the sofa. Immediately, I hear grunting, and I know it's Ronan. I recognize his voice anywhere now, even the hushed sounds he makes. Especially his grunts, though these don't sound like grunts of pleasure, but pain.

When he rounds the corner of the room and walks in, I stand to my feet. The sight of his shirt soaked in blood sends me into an instant panic. I rush to his side ready to let my medical training kick in, but this time, my mind feels clouded by a different sort of fear.

"Oh, my God," I whimper as he lowers the wad of fabric he has in his hand. "What happened?" I ask, ushering him to the couch. Finn is right behind him, hand stained in blood, scowling at his older brother.

"I got shot, obviously," Ronan growls, and I feel guilty for upsetting him and desperate to see what's going on so I can fix it.

"Get a wash rag and medical supplies. I need some sort of alcohol, and something for a bandage." I'm barking orders as if Finn will listen, and he does. It's like he understands I'm here to help and doesn’t treat me like a threat anymore.

Ronan walks past me, and I see the blood down his back too. It's a through-and-through, which is good. I don't have to open him up again, at least. But the blood loss could be bad, especially so soon after the last wounds he suffered, and it could cost him his arm if I can't stop it. I guide him to the couch where he sits and lets me remove his shirt gently.

"It's gone through, so hopefully, no bullet fragments are in there." I use the already bloody scrap of fabric to try wiping the fresh blood away. It looks like most of the heavy bleeding has stopped already, so that's good.

Ronan grunts as I press my finger into the wound, not even caring that I haven't washed my hands. He fought through sepsis. He can get over this too. He winces and grits his teeth as I pull the shirt off and lean him forward to see the exit wound, larger than the entrance, but only by a small amount. It'll hurt like hell to use his left arm for a few days, but he'll be fine, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

"Is it bad?" he asks, and tears well up in my eyes.

I feel lost for a second as the realization hits me that this time, I'm not feeling angry that I'm in this position. I'm not feeling scared of his men, or of his job or family. I'm feeling gratitude to whatever God exists out there for keeping him alive. I'm feeling relieved that he isn't worse, that he didn't die. I cup his cheeks with both my bloody hands and kiss him hard, and he kisses me back.

"My God," I breathe when I pull away.

"Hey, I'm okay. I just need my expert surgeon to stitch me up, alright?" His right hand reaches up and pinches my chin, and I know I love this man. I don't know how love like this could form under such ridiculous circumstances, but I'm not even thinking about how I hate being associated with his organization and reputation. All I can think of is how if I lost him, I'd feel hollow and empty.

I didn't realize how much interacting with him and having him near me meant to me. I'd have no one to hold, no one to protect me, and in a split second, I know his brothers would end me and move on to the next surgeon. Ronan is my fierce defender, and I need him as much as I need the air I breathe.

"I’m scared," I tell him, and I rest my forehead against his.

"Shh, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here to protect you and take care of you." His soothing words touch a place in my heart, and I believe him.

Finn walks in and sees Ronan and me bonding, and he clears his throat. "I have the supplies you need. Found Butcher's old med kit. Everything should be here." He sets a stack of items on the table, and I set to work cleaning the wound and preparing a needle to stitch Ronan up. This time, he has no whiskey in hisblood. It will hurt worse, but it will be better for him—less blood loss.

"Get out there and find that sick fuck and bring him to me. NO one harms a hair on his head. He's mine."

I struggle to concentrate as Ronan utters threats of violence against whomever it is they're hunting. I assume it's the man who did this, and for a second, I allow myself to be okay with that. If that person is capable of doing this to him, maybe they do need to be stopped.

The needle slides through his skin, drawing the suture thread behind it, and Ronan barely flinches. He's giving orders to Finn while I doctor him up, and I'm seeing a very strong side of him. I don't know what incident has brought this on, but he seems like a man with a mission to protect his family, and suddenly, instead of being terrified by that, I'm attracted to it.

Ronan's protective nature is something I've always craved. My mother raised me alone. There was never a man in our lives to save us or help us, and at times I prayed to God, weeping and pouring out my heart, begging him to send us someone to rescue us. I can't help but wonder if somehow, this is the answer to those prayers, years later, if Ronan O'Rourke has come to be the one to save me and protect me in ways my mother never had.

Finn leaves, and I finish stitching the front wound. When Ronan turns to allow me to stitch up his back, I see the scars from the first time I did this for him and remember how he forced me here. How his men beat me over the head and threatened my life. It seems like decades ago, but it was months. Now I'm not sure how to feel. I want this man and I want his love and protection, but I don't know if I'm ready to give up my freedom and be that controlled.

A relationship like this should be a partnership, not this. Not master and slave, not boss and employee. He should trust me as I should respect him, and it should be a mutual affection. But something tells me if I stay here, I will never have that. There will always be a fear that if it doesn't work out, I'll be murdered. Or worse, be forced to do something horrible to prove my loyalty.

"Are you okay?" he asks me in a soft tone when I finish and tears are streaming down my face. There are so many emotions boiling over, and I don't know what to think or say.

---