Page 136 of Luck of the Devil
“Yeah.” I dragged in a breath. I’d held my shit together this long. Falling apart now wasn’t an option.
I finished untying his left arm, then moved on to his leg. We both worked on the knots in silence, and when we reached the rope around his chest, he lifted his hands to help.
I batted his hands away. “I’ve got it.”
“You scared the hell out of me,” he said, his voice low and husky, as though the last hour was sinking in.
“You scared the hell out of me,” I shot back, sharper than I meant it.
His jaw flexed. “You were a fool to risk your life for me.”
Anger flared in my chest. “Why? Because you’re not worth saving? Don’t bullshit me, James. You would’ve come for me. Hell, you already did last week.”
I yanked the knot loose, and he pushed the rope off his chest as he rose to his feet. He swayed, and I stepped closer on instinct, ready to catch him if he fell.
“You need to go to an ER,” I said, slipping an arm around his waist as he took an unsteady step. How hard had he hit his head after the blast? And God only knew what kind of damage they’d done tossing him into the SUV.
“No ER.” He took another step, but his knees buckled slightly. I reached out, catching his weight against my side.
“You might be seriously hurt,” I said, my breath catching. “We need to check for intercranial bleeding.”
“We’ll figure it out.” His voice was firmer this time, gritty with pain. “No ER.”
I could’ve thrown him in the car and taken him anyway, but I knew better. If James Malcolm didn’t want to end up in a hospital, there was a damn good reason. Still, we needed help. I could only hope he had someone in his network—a private doctor, a medic, or the woman who’d stitched me up last week. Someone off the books but qualified.
We managed a few more stumbling steps. He was leaning on me harder now, almost sagging. Every shift in his weight increased my concern.
He worse than he’s letting on.
As soon as I got him loaded in the car, I was calling Carter. James might not trust hospitals, but I trusted Carter to know how to keep him alive.
I lifted my gaze to the front entrance of the building, now in view. “How long do you think I have before Gerald Knox comes for me—and my mother’s papers?” If James was out of commission for even a few days, let alone weeks, we’d have to go into hiding. But as long as he was conscious and breathing, I knew he wouldn’t let me face this alone.
“He’s comin’ for us, Harper,” he said, turning his head toward me, wincing as pain flashed across his face. “I bet good money he thinks I’m comin’ for him now too.”
My stomach clenched. “This is my fault. You’re only involved because I dragged you into it.”
“Dragged me into it?” he echoed in disbelief. “I shoved my way into it. And let’s not pretend I didn’t make it clear from the start—I was after whatever your mother was hiding.”
I released a hollow laugh. “So now we’re both on Knox’s most-wanted list.”
A dark smile curved his lips. “Let him come. Only we’re not waitin’. We’ll strike first.”
I didn’t know what that looked like, not yet, but I trusted he had a plan.
We’d reached the front door, what was left of it. The glass on one side had been completely blown out. The sedan was gone. A small, twisted part of me had hoped Nicole would still be there so I could finish what I’d started.
“Why did you stop me from shooting her?” I asked.
He pulled me to a halt, turning to face me. “Because she was unarmed.”
“So?” I asked, my voice sharp with a pain I didn’t bother to hide. “She killed my mother, so what if she wasn’t armed?”
He cupped my cheek. “You’re not stooping to her level.”
“I already did,” I whispered, my voice cracking. Images of the men I’d killed came back in violent flashes. “You didn’t see what I did out there.”
“No,” he said gently. “There’s a difference between killing in self-defense … and killing for revenge. You don’t want that dark mark on your soul.”
