Page 31 of Fatal Love
Connor threw himself over Sabrina, his gun and Ebba’s both going off at the same time.
Sabrina felt his solid weight fall on top of her. Felt his body go rigid for half a second, then soften.
“No!”
The scream tore through her head, out her throat. Wrapping her arms around him, she rolled them both over.
And came face to face with Ebba, her wide, dead eyes staring back at Sabrina as blood trickled from the bullet hole in the center of her forehead.
Colton leaned down over the woman. “She’s dead, Cal. You got her.”
“Um, someone want to help me over here?” Trace said as Beatrice screamed and Sabrina heard a gushing liquid sound.
“Connor’s hurt,” Sabrina cried, crawling off the man who’d just saved her life. His eyes were closed, blood flowing from a wound she couldn’t find. His black vest showing a hole in the left chest.
Oh, God. The vests could handle a lot, but a close range .40 cal slug?
“Connor!” Sabrina cried, shaking him as Colton leaned over and felt for a pulse at his neck. “Open your eyes, goddammit!”
Colton peeled the vest off to reveal Connor’s chest. Or maybe to perform CPR, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that her body shook with fear. She’d just found someone she really liked and on their first date—that’s what she was calling it, anyway—she’d managed to get him killed.
She grabbed his face between her fingers and thumbs and waggled it. “Don’t you dare die on me, you fabulous man. I have plans for you!”
Bending over, she planted a kiss on his lips, soft and gentle, a tear falling on his cheek.
SOMEONE WAS CRYING.
Squalling was more like it.
The baby!
Connor sat straight up, drawing a huge breath, and…
Shit, that hurt.
His chest was on fire. So was his neck.
“Whoa, there, cowboy.” Colton Bells knelt beside him, holding a balled up dishtowel to Connor’s neck. “You took a couple rounds, one to the chest and a graze to your neck. You’re bleeding all over Beatrice’s floor, so keep this on your wound.”
Connor wrapped an arm around his ribs. Or at least tried to. The fire in his neck seemed to make his arm useless. All it wanted to do was hang limp at his side.
And he was damn woozy. There were three versions of Bells floating in front of him.
“When you dove to save Sabrina,” Bells explained, pointing at a dent in the wall behind them, “you hit your head on the corner. Knocked yourself loo-loo.”
“Sabrina,” Connor croaked, using his good arm to hold the towel at his neck. “Is she…?”
“She and Hunter went to get the helo. We have a bunch of you to get to the hospital and the fastest way is with that pretty bird.” He lifted his head as they heard thethump-thump-thumpof the rotors in the distance. “Sounds like your carriage approaches, Cinderella.”
Someone had restored the electricity and the lights were on. Connor blinked to clear his vision.
Ebba and her soldiers lay where they had fallen. Maria, Cal, and Beatrice were nowhere in sight.
“Where is everyone?”
Bells helped him to his feet. “Bedroom. Beatrice and the baby are fine, as you can probably tell from all the caterwauling you hear. Cal’s lost a lot of blood, but the bastard’s a tough SOB. He won’t let us touch him, he’s so enamored with that new baby. The midwife took a bullet too, but she’ll be okay once the surgeon fixes her up.”
Competing with the noise of the helicopter, Connor heard sirens approaching. “I’m fine,” he insisted as Bells walked him to a chair. “Take care of the others.”
