Page 36 of Dust to Dust

“Oh my God, you’re hurt!” Before I could think better of it, I rushed over to him.

When my hand came up to touch his side, he smacked it away. “I said, get the fuck out of here!”

I shook my head before repeating, “You’re hurt.”

“No shit,” he snarled.

“Let me call an ambulance.”

A sinister chuckle erupted from him. “You’re so naïve, aren’t you, Little Dove?”

Furrowing my brows, I asked, “What do you mean?”

Quinn drew in a deep breath, which caused him to wince. “An ambulance brings police sniffing around, and that’s the last thing I need.”

“I’m sure you need stitches.”

“I do.”

“Then why are you still standing here and not going to a hospital?” I demanded.

He cocked his head at me. “For the same fucking reason I won’t call an ambulance.”

“Did you hit your head as well? Because you’re not making any sense.”

Amusement danced in Quinn’s eyes. “No, I don’t have a head injury.”

“Then let me drive you to the hospital.” When he still continued smirking at me, I added, “Please.”

The mirth faded from his eyes. “You would do that?”

As I bobbed my head, I reached for his hand. With a futile tug, I pleaded, “Come with me.”

Seconds inched by as Quinn stared at me. His gaze dropped to where our hands were joined before he brought his eyes back to my face. Finally, he closed the gap between us.

As he towered over me, electricity crackled between us, and I couldn’t help taking a step back. “Do you want to help me because I’m your boss, or because I made you come?” he asked.

Jerking my hand from his, I sucked in a disbelieving breath at his words. The room seemed to spin with his emotional whiplash. “How can you be talking about that at a time like this?”

“Answer my question.”

“I would help you because I care about people in need, and you’re obviously in need.”

“I’m always in need when you’re around,” he replied in a gravelly voice.

When I dared to look up into his eyes, heat surged between my legs at the desire in his. “Are you in need too?”

“You’re hurt,” I protested.

A smirk curved on his lips. “I’d have to be dying not to want to meet your needs.”

“Considering all the blood you’ve lost, it’s possible you could be,” I argued.

“The bullet only grazed me.”

I swayed on my knees, which caused Quinn to reach out to steady me. “A bullet?” I questioned in a pained whisper.

“Yes. Since it’s not the first time it’s happened, I know I’m not knocking at death’s door.” When I stared at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed, he said, “I’ve popped a Percocet for the pain along with some Motrin for the inflammation. I’ve called our family doctor to come in to stitch me up. I had planned to clean the wound while I waited for him, but then someone interrupted me.”

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