Page 27 of Ruthless Sinner

I swung onto my bike and did the thing they never expected: I headed straight for them.

Guy number two with the smashed face dove out of the way, but his companion doveforme, trying to tackle me off my bike. I swerved, lowered my weight down and to the side, and caught him with the back wheel, sending him sprawling.

Fuck. I wasn’t sure if I should’ve tried to kill ‘em both, but if these two were good enough to get the jump on me in the first place then it probably wasn’t wise to stick around and try to make a point. I could’ve circled around and fired on them with my gun, but Dad had drummed in all of us that guns were always a last resort, thanks to ballistics and also how damn noisy they were. If I fired, I’d wake up the whole neighborhood.

And whatever Vincent was up to, he obviously wanted secrecy.

My shoulder ached like a motherfucker, but I gritted my teeth and ignored it as I drove to my destination. I headed a couple of false ways just to shake off any tail I had, but still made pretty good time.

The owner of the Chinese restaurant who was picking up the package looked at me in alarm when he saw the knife still stuck in my shoulder. He gestured at it and said something quietly in Chinese, but I shook my head. Vincent and Dante were always getting after me to learn other languages but they just never stuck in my head.

“I’m fine,” I told him, shrugging off his attempts to help me. I needed to get out of here and get to safety. I’d delivered the package, now my job was done.

The old guy looked at me dubiously, but accepted the package and closed the door. He was probably muttering to himself about kids these days.

Christ, I had to deal with this fucking shoulder. The smart thing to do would’ve been to show up at Vincent’s and report to him while he had one of our docs stitch me up, but that was the last thing I wanted.

I just wanted home. And Kennedy.

The wound was in the back of my shoulder but I figured a mirror would do the trick. I’d get back, stitch myself up in the bathroom, and fall asleep with Kennedy in my arms. I could report to my brother in the morning.

When I got back, I slipped in quietly, keeping the lights off. Kennedy had always slept through my entrances before, so I expected it to be more of the same—but then my damn arm gave out on me and I was hit by a wave of dizziness.

I stumbled, grabbing onto the wall for support, and the light by the bed flicked on.

Kennedy stared at me. Her skin glowed in the soft, warm lighting, but as beautiful as she was, it couldn’t distract me from the alarmed look in her gaze.

She didn’t remark on the fact that my shirt was covered in blood from the two guys whose noses I’d smashed. Instead she said, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but there’s a knife in your back.”

“In my shoulder,” I corrected with a grunt of pain.

Kennedy winced and got up, grabbing one of the silk dressing gowns I’d bought her.

“Let me see that,” she said, her hands firm but gentle as she turned me around. She let out a low whistle. “This could’ve been a lot worse.”

I was surprised at her lack of squeamishness. “I think his aim was crap.”

“Well, y’know what they say, nobody survives this long without at least a bit of luck here and there.” She sounded like she spoke from experience.

Maybe I would have to do some digging on her.

Kennedy gently felt around the knife wound. “I think I could stitch this up for you. Thanks to your shoulder blade, it didn’t go in too deep. But you should get it x-rayed tomorrow to make sure it didn’t nick the bone. The last thing you need is a bone shard piercing an artery or causing internal damage.”

“What can I say?” I said on a heavy sigh. “The universe likes me.”

Kennedy gave me a fond but exasperated look and took me by the elbow, steering me into the bathroom. After all this time in the dark, the bright fluorescent lighting had me blinking and squinting.

Kennedy had me sit down on the edge of the bathtub, facing away from it, while she stood in the tub itself. “You have supplies?”

“Behind the bag of extra toilet paper.” I winced as I shifted and felt the knife in me again. “And there’s plenty of alcohol in the kitchen.”

“Nice try. There’s plenty in this kit to clean the wound without it.”

She’s really got my number, huh,I thought to myself.

Kennedy had never tried to keep me in line before. I’d appreciate that. Between my brother and my father, and then women who wanted me to be someone I wasn’t, or clearly wanted to keep a hold of me and make me their official boyfriend… I wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of someone else trying to order me around.

But I didn’t mind Kennedy bossing me. Just a little. Especially not when it was so that she could patch me up and help keep me alive. I could see the lines of worry around her eyes and the corners of her mouth, even if she kept her tone light and calm.

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