Page 53 of Ridin' Solo
“I’m fine,” I whispered loudly at Wyatt. “I’ll cover, you start arresting.” I threw my handcuffs over to him, which he caught in the air. He gave me one last hard glance and then ran over to the guys on the ground, kicking away weapons before placing them in handcuffs and resorting to quick ties when he ran out of cuffs.
I kept an eye out behind me for more outdoor security while making sure no one else came out of that office. By the time our backup deputies ran through the doorway with guns drawn and shouts of “police,” we had the situation mostly under control. An ambulance was called, and I knew all law enforcement in a twenty-mile radius would be here shortly. News of a cop being hit spread like wildfire. Just never thought it would be me.
Wyatt was suddenly at my side, the first sign of panic on his face as he ran his gaze over my body. “Where are you hit?”
“Just my calf.” I calmly placed my Glock in the holster at my waist, finally accepting that the situation was over.
I sat up, and Wyatt grabbed my foot, rolling up my pant leg to assess the damage. I hissed when he got to the wound, a hot poker pain taking over for the white lightning I first felt.
The first of the guys who’d been arrested walked by with the other two deputies. He did a double take when he saw Wyatt.
“Wyatt?” he asked, mouth falling open.
Wyatt’s head snapped up and his dark tan faded as he clearly recognized the guy who’d just been shooting at us.
The guy grinned, which hit me as insane. We’d just traded gunfire, he was in handcuffs, and the fucker was smiling at us now?
“I thought that was you. What the hell, man? Why you shootin’ at us?”
The deputy stopped trying to pull him out the door, looking between us like he didn’t know if Wyatt wanted to catch up. Like this was social fucking hour.
“You know this asshole?” I asked Wyatt, not able to keep the disgust from my voice. His friend had just shot me. I felt it entitled me to a little anger.
“Know me? Wyatt’s practically my brother!” the guy exclaimed, a gold tooth winking at the side of his smile.
24
Wyatt
A whole shit ton of dread hit my stomach, mixing with the panic that had taken hold of me when I saw Oakley’d been hit. It took every last second of the training drilled into my head to keep me focused on the job in front of me instead of running to Oakley’s side before we’d eliminated the threat.
As if active gunfire where my partner, the woman I was in love with, was shot wasn’t enough to get the adrenaline racing, seeing my past front and center pushed me right over the edge. I couldn’t even feel my face. All I could see was Oakley’s bright red blood on my hands and that fucker’s smiling face.
Jesse…something. Couldn’t even remember his last name. He was a friend of Ben’s. And at one time in my life, a friend of mine, but only because he could score a stash of blow that would keep my friends and me going for weeks. If he was here, it was because there was a drug deal happening. Just the sight of his familiar face made my stomach sour with regret and shame. I’d left that life far behind me and I refused to let it drag me back.
“We are not friends.” The bitter words scraped across my dry throat. I tossed my head toward the open doorway. “Get him out of here.”
The deputy yanked Jesse’s arm and got him stumbling away from Oakley and me. When I swiveled to face her again, the look on Oakley’s face was enough to freeze the blood in my veins. Her jaw locked tight and the light in her eyes snuffed out as she gazed at me.
“You’re gonna need to explain that to me. Right now.”
There was nothing friendly in her tone. It was an order I couldn’t ignore or joke away. Without saying the words, I knew our brand-new relationship was at stake based on the next thing to come out of my mouth.
“Oakley. He’s—”
“Out of the way, Deputy. We need to treat her wound.” Ace, a firefighter and EMT from Auburn Hill, pushed me out of the way and got to work on Oakley’s leg. Two other paramedics joined him, and Oakley’s attention was diverted as they cut off her pant leg.
Which was probably a good thing. I needed to get my explanation just right. She needed to know that my past was far behind me and wasn’t who I was any longer. She needed to understand that the thing we had between us now meant everything to me.
“Oakley!”
In a daze, I turned to see Chief Waldo lumbering into the barn, his face the color of his mustache, his eyes wild with fear. He moved quicker than I’d ever seen him, squatting down behind Oakley and barking questions at the EMTs as he gripped her shoulders. Her stoic face, the one that hadn’t flinched at the bullet wound or the shots fired at us, melted at the sight of her father. Her eyes misted over, but she didn’t let a single tear fall. Chief Waldo murmured to her the whole time the EMTs worked on her.
All around me people ran in and out of the barn, the place crawling with law enforcement as they secured the scene, rounded up suspects, and bagged evidence. I’d had plenty of out-of-body experiences in my youth thanks to illegal drugs, but I’d never experienced it dead sober. Until today. Until I’d watched Oakley get shot and my past mistakes run roughshod into my present, wrecking everything I was trying to build.
I should be the man supporting Oakley while she was hurt and scared. I should be the officer helping to collect evidence or arrest the assholes who thought it was okay to shoot at law enforcement. I should do something—anything—except standing here staring at the best thing in my life like she was going to vanish out of thin air.
“Let’s get her in the ambulance.”
