Page 21 of Doyle

Kemar started screaming.

“Stop it. Nothing’s broken.” However, Jamal started screaming too. Aw. Doyle rolled off Kemar just as the clinic lights flicked off.

Then, more gunshots and shouting from around the compound, and Sebold barreled out of the building, holding the suitcase.

Tia!Doyle couldn’t move.

Not even when Kemar got up, grabbed Jamal, and tried to hit Doyle as he ran by.

Doyle came to life, dodged him, pushed him away—and ran for the building. “Tia!” He slapped on the lights by the door.

Tia sat on the floor, blood on her face, her chest. A man—no,his brother Stein—crouched over her, holding a cloth to her neck.

What—?

Stein looked up, a grim expression on his face. “I heard the screaming, and I told Declan and Austen to go back to the house. When I came back, you were gone—and that’s when I heard the shot. I found one of your guards out by the edge of the wall, and I figured... maybe I’d try to flank whoever was in here. Sorry he got away, but it was him or her.”

Her.

Tia sat holding the towel, her jaw tight, eyes dry despite the tear stains down her cheeks. “He took my machine.”

Doyle swallowed, looked at Stein, back at her. “Yeah. Yes, he did. Um... I think we can get another one.”

She stilled. Shook her head. “No. He took the X-ray machine.”

“What?”

“Yeah. While he held me, a couple of his guys carried it down and loaded it on our truck. It’s gone.”

He really liked that truck, too.

“I’m sorry.”

“Declan will buy you a new machine,” said Stein. “And a new truck.”

She pushed Stein’s hand away and stood up.

Doyle knew that look. “Tia?—”

“Declan doesn’t need to know. The last thing—theverylast thing—I need is for him to think I can’t handle this job. I don’t need any favors.”

“We wererobbed.That’s hardly your fault.”

“I agree with him—” Stein started.

“You don’t get a say.” Her eyes sparked, hard on Stein. “You should have gone after him. I was fine?—”

“You looked a lot worse. I thought he’d slit your neck.”

“So now he’s gone, with our ultrasound and our X-ray machine?—”

“And Kemar and Jamal,” Doyle said, hanging a hand on the back of his neck. The conch stirred in his gut, foul.

“What?” Tia looked at him. She’d removed the towel. Nothing a stitch or two couldn’t handle. Maybe a butterfly. “He took the boys?”

“To be accurate, Kemar took Jamal.”

Her mouth tightened. She shook her head, then looked at Stein. “I think Kemar was in on it.”

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