Page 74 of The Daredevil

Recognizing Ludvik and some of his men, I showed them the direction in which the man fled.

“I shot him in the leg, so he shouldn’t have gone very far.”

Bang. Bang. Bang.

The three gunshots echoed in the distance.

“Go home,” Ludvik said. “We’ll take care of this. I’ll call you later.”

“How did you know to come this way?”

“We got a call saying an armed man was in the area.”

Who had called them? Who was the man with the gun? Was he trying to kill Michelle or me? Could this be the same man who left the bomb at her apartment?

Michelle rushed to me and examined my body. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine.” The concern in her eyes and the way she turned me around to check for injuries did something strange to my heart.

“Are you sure?” She looked terrified.

“Yes.” I hadn’t realized how scared I was. My life just got a jumpstart with this relationship, and now this fucker wanted to ruin it. She could’ve been hurt. Her safety was more important than mine.

I blinked at the shocking thought. No woman had ever been that important to me other than my mom and aunt. Michelle was transforming me, and I was just seeing it now.

She showed me I could feel an entire spectrum of emotions I didn’t think I was capable of. She was a wonder, and she was mine.

I gripped her shoulders, looking into her eyes. “Areyouokay?”

“Yeah, I’m all right.”

“We can talk about this at home.”

CHAPTERTHIRTY-EIGHT

MICHELLE

Back at his apartment,Royce made us tea with honey in two brown mugs.

Sitting on the couch, I sipped the tea, allowing its warmth to soothe my nerves. I placed the mug on a glass coaster on the coffee table and replayed the event in my head. Everything happened so fast. When the sounds of gunfire went off, I’d crouched on the floor of the car. Fear had stabbed me while I was worried about Royce. That intense fear reminded me of when I had to face my eating disorder. The overwhelming feeling consumed me.

Ididn’t realize I’d been trembling until Royce joined me on the couch, wrapping a powerful arm around me and rubbing his hand up and down my arm.

“Do you think it’s the same man after me? Or is this someone else after you? Do you have enemies?”

“I didn’t get to where I am today without making enemies. I’ve pissed people off, and people have pissed me off, but this assault seems different. My gut tells me this isn’t the guy who left the bomb at your apartment. I don’t want you to worry about it. The police will alert me if they find anything.”

Now that we were officially dating, I had questions for him.

Turning to face him, I said, “Was it hard for you to adjust when you moved to the States from Iceland? How did you adjust to the language? Were you scared?”

His eyes gleamed. “You have a lot of questions.”

“They’ve been adding up, but I didn’t feel like I had a right to ask you until now.”

“I love that you want to know. What can I say? I’m irresistible,” he teased, another trait I adored about him.

Julian hardly ever teased me, and I was afraid to tease him. His replies always poked at my body, my diet, and how I should exercise more. His comments only got worse when I told him I suffered from an eating disorder. He didn’t stop his criticism, as though my admission made me seem weak and unworthy of him.

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