Page 89 of Shea's Hero

Maybe it’s the height of irrational optimism, but right now, I think Shea’s right.

This is going to work.

On a held breath, I stand up. Aim. Sight my shot.

His head is turned slightly away from me, but Shea’s isn’t. She sees me, her eyes flickering with recognition and relief, but she keeps her expression neutral.

In the moment before I fire, my future hangs in the balance.

A future with Shea.

I fire.

The bullet strikes him in the shoulder, the one holding the gun.

He shrieks in pain.

The gun drops to the floor.

I fire again, this time hitting the other shoulder.

He falls to his knees and screams, “Fuck! Fuck! Help! I need help!”

Go. Go. Go.

In a full-out sprint, I race into the house and over to the bleeding man. Then I kick the gun away, adding a second kick to his midsection for good measure.

Shea wriggles away from him, scooting herself across the dusty floor. Her gaze is locked on mine.

Once the man is restrained—thanks to even more zip ties—I crouch down beside her and pull the wad of fabric from her mouth. My words fall out in a rush as I say, “I’m so sorry, honey, I’m so sorry. It’s going to be okay, I’m so sorry.”

“Oll.”She stares at me for a second before bursting into tears. “You’re okay.”

“Of course I am.” My hands are shaking as I try to cut through her restraints, and I have to take a second to steady them. “Are you alright? Did they hurt?—”

Fuck. Her wrists. They’re all red and swollen. Those fucking assholes pulled them too tight.

“I’m okay.” As soon as her wrists are loose, she touches my cheek. “Butyou’renot okay. You’rebleeding.”

“I’m fine.” Once her ankles are freed, I pull Shea up and into my arms. She shudders as she sags against me, still crying, and buries her face in my neck.

“I thought they hurt you,” she sobs. “I was so scared.”

Oh. My heart.

There’s nothing I want more than to hold Shea for hours. To breathe in her soft scent and feel her snuggled against me, to reassure myself that she’s really here, and really okay.

“Come on,” I tell her while stroking my hand down her hair. “Let’s get outside to wait for Blade and?—”

But I’m interrupted by the roar of an engine. And then another.

Shea tenses. Her whole body starts shaking. “There aren’t more, are there? Oh, please?—”

“Kingston! Shea! Are you in here?”

My lungs start working again.

Cole.

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