Page 3 of King of Pain

“Love,” I murmur low and gentle. “There is no need…” But I stop as she vehemently shakes her head, sliding back until her back hits the couch.

I sit my ass on the floor too, trying again. “Judging by the dress, you were on a date?”

“I…” she swallows, her voice cracking. “I just wanted a nice dinner. I…”

I’m going to have to negotiate this one very carefully. “Kate,” I say even more softly. “I’m going to try and get us out of here. But first, I’m going to need you to look at my shoulder.”

She blinks several times, tears still falling down her cheeks. “Don’t let him take me into the house.”

I jerk my chin in agreement. “I won’t.” I can’t even explain why I’d make a promise like that, but I do. If I’m going to fight though, first I need her to bandage the bullet wound…

She slips off her shoes, setting them carefully to the side before she pushes to her feet.

Her knees are scraped, her arms bruised. But she brushes her hair back from her face and starts toward a closed door.

She opens it, checks what is clearly a closet and then looks in another. Finding the bathroom, she enters.

Thirty seconds later she returns with a decent sized first aid kit. “I’m going to scrub up,” she doesn’t look at me. “I’ll need you to strip all your clothing above the waist.”

I try to unbutton my shirt, but my arm just won’t lift like that. I hear the water turn on. “Kate.” I call her attention back to me, knowing I’m going to need more of her help. I have no idea how I’m going to keep the promise I made when I can’t even unbutton my shirt.

She looks back at me. “Before you scrub up, any chance you can…” I gesture to the row of buttons. If I’m going to have any chance of getting us out of here, I’m trying to conserve the arm for when we might really need it.

She lets out a long rush of air. “Right. Yeah.”

Padding back over to me, she stops just in front of me. I can actually smell Vincent’s shitty cologne on her, but underneath that….

She smells like the ocean and lilies. Floral with a bit salty musk that makes my teeth grind. I breathe deeply as her deft fingers work down my row of buttons.

“You a nurse?” I try again.

With sure hands, she takes the shirt off my wounded shoulder. “I’m in med school,” she answers softly. “Just finished my first year.”

“Oh yeah, so a real dummy then?”

A faint smile touches her lips before she gasps at the sight of the bulletproof vest I’m sporting. Her hands drop and she takes a giant step back.

“The vest isn’t going to hurt you.”

“Are you?” she asks, her eyes wary as she assesses me. She’s got these gorgeous cheekbones and large brown eyes, fringed with dark lashes. Full lips and a delicate shape to her face. She looks so vulnerable. I want to pull her close.

“No,” I answer quietly. “And you’re going to have to trust me on that. We don’t have much time.”

She grimaces, but nods, and then helps me take off the vest too. And last, comes my T-shirt. I can see a rip, the sleeve soaked in blood.

She grabs the hem, her pretty little hands sliding up my skin as she takes the fabric off my good arm first.

It hurts but I ignore the pain, watching her remove the shirt with slow care that hits some note deep inside me. Gentle and beautiful…

The shirt finally comes off and I look down at my shoulder, relief rushing through me. It hurts like hell, but it looks like the vest caught the worst of the bullet.

Kate returns to the sink, washing her hands. She opens the kit, assesses the contents, and washes her hands again, before putting on gloves. “Come sit.”

I take one of the two kitchen chairs, as she bends over me and begins to inspect the wound.

I’m less worried now that I’ve seen the injury, and her cleavage is fucking fantastic. I hold still until she pushes right on the wound and then I suck in a breath.

“I see the bullet in the vest. I think the edge of the metal cut your skin good, and you’ll have a lot of bruising, but…”

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