Page 87 of Banshee
Jude hopped over the bar and pulled me to the floor, covering my head with his body. Glass rained down on us as gunfire tore through the bottles of alcohol on the mirrored shelves above us.
A bullet had taken out the jukebox, cutting the music. Moments later, I heard the distinct sound of motorcycle engines. It felt like hours had passed before the room fell silent. Jude pulled the gun from the back of his waistband and ordered, “Stay here.”
As if I could move.
Jude crawled around the bar and looked out over the room. Whimpers from customers filled the quiet. I grabbed my phone when I heard the sirens. Though there was no need to call it in. Diamond Creek took care of its own. As soon as one of the fewneighbors around us heard the gunshots, they would have called the sheriff.
“It’s safe to come out, Grace,” Jude said, and held out his hand. There was nothing when I put my hand in his as he helped me to my feet. No zing, no spark. I closed my eyes and cursed King in my head.
I looked around the room at the damage; it wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. The windows in the front were broken, and tables had been turned over as patrons dove behind them, but aside from the alcohol that would need to be replaced, we shouldn’t be closed for long.
“Who’s hurt?” I shouted, looking for my regulars.
“You are, Grace.”
I turned at Jude’s touch and looked down at my arm. There were scratches from broken glass, but there was a gash across my bicep.
“You were fucking lucky, princess. Looks like the bullet only grazed you.”
“Shit.” The pain was starting to set in as the adrenaline faded. “He’ll never let me out of the fucking house,” I mumbled.
“What?”
I looked up at Jude, shaking my head. “Nothing. I’m fine. Help me assess who’s the worst.”
The front door opened, and the sheriff and his deputies stormed in, guns drawn. Declan’s eyes locked on mine, and he lowered his gun. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Any chance we could keep him from finding out?”
The sheriff cocked his head to the side with a look that said,‘What the fuck do you think?’and I sighed. I could already hear the bikes in the distance.
I closed my eyes tightly and groaned. When I opened them, Jude was gone. I looked around the room but didn’t see himanywhere. As soon as King stomped through the front door, calling my name, the mystery man was forgotten.
“Jesus Christ! Are you okay?” King stood in front of me, his hand holding my arm gently, and there it was. The zings, the sparks.
God, I hated this man.
“Bane, get your ass over here.”
“There are other people who are hurt more than I am.”
“I don’t fucking care,” he growled.
Bane stepped over a broken chair and looked at my arm. He poked around the gash, and I winced.
“You’re hurting her,” King snarled.
“I have to assess it before I can know how to treat it,” Bane replied, unbothered by King’s grumpy ass. He turned to me and asked, “Do you have a first aid kit?”
“Behind the bar,” I answered, my eyes still on King. Why did it have to be him? Why couldn’t it be anyone else?
“King!” Declan shouted.
He didn’t move; he just stood there staring into my eyes. “Go,” I whispered.
“No.”
“Go find out who did this,” I said, trying to push him away.
