Page 62 of Lacey's Fight

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August 8th

3:27 A.M.

Getting shot sucked.

Ben’s hands resisted the urge to move toward the wound and instead, he reached for the knife.

He had to take down the threat.

Protect Lacey.

Nothing else mattered.

His life would be no great loss to the world, but hers would.

She brought light to so many and had certainly brought life to his own dark world. He wasn’t going to let her die on his watch.

As he fumbled for the knife, Amelia suddenly dropped her weapon, her eyes going almost impossibly wide as she scrambled for the knife embedded in her neck.

Either way, the wound was a fatal one, but stupidly the woman gripped at the handle, yanking it free and blood began to pour from the wound.

Amelia swayed, tried to take a step, staggered, then dropped to her knees.

Dying.

No longer a threat.

Relief had him swaying this time and only now that he knew Lacey was safe did he press a hand to the wound just below his left shoulder.

Amelia had been aiming at his heart.

She’d missed only because Lacey had gotten her first.

She’d saved his life.

The crazy, brave, emotional, sassy, and vulnerable woman had saved his life.

“Ben!”

Lacey’s panicked shriek drew his attention to her, and he watched as she ran to Amelia, ignoring the dying woman but snatching up the gun. Then she came to him and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“You got hit! I’m so sorry, I should have reacted quicker, taken her out before she could get off a shot at you.”

She guided him over to a bed and sat him down. When she turned to move away, he used the hand of his injured arm to snag her wrist, sucking in a breath at the resulting pain. “You hit?”

“No, of course not. I have quicker reflexes than you do, sailor,” she teased but there was no spark in her eyes, and he knew she was just doing her best to make sure he was okay.

Just how often did this woman stuff down her emotions so people didn’t worry about her?

While Ben couldn’t say he was a fan of having his friends and family worry about him it did remind him that they cared.

But Lacey seemed to almost be afraid to admit that people cared about her.

He knew that she knew she was loved and supported, but she hid from that love almost like she believed she was undeserving of it.

“My reflexes are fine,” he grunted, playing her game for now because his shoulder really did throb.

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