Page 49 of Vicious Vows

“I try not to get shot.”

“That’s a smart plan.” She ran her hand over her injured hip as her face twisted in discomfort. “I’ll have to remember that next time.”

I hated that she was uncomfortable because I was the target in her father’s misguided attempt to prove a point.

“Hey.” I took her hand and brought her to me. “There isn’t going to be a next time.”

“I’d feel better if you knew who the bullet was meant for.” She traced her fingers along my jaw. “Wouldn’t you?”

I couldn’t tell her who shot at us. Knowing the order came from her father would break her heart. Then when the time came for me to go after Gian, Lissia would know it was in retaliation for coming at me and hitting her instead. She would never forgive herself.

Or me.

“You don’t need to worry about any of that.” I ran my hand through her hair. “I will handle it.”

“How can you handle it if you don’t know who the threat is?”

“I’m meeting with Lorenzo and Milo in a few minutes. Why don’t you take Ricardo and sit by the pool until I’m done?”

“Does that mean you don’t want me to eavesdrop?”

“The last time you did that, you contacted your father and tried to negotiate a deal. We both know how that ended.” I tightened my grip on her hair. “I do not want a repeat of that, and neither do you.”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to think about her stepping in between all of those guns that day in the woods.

“I get it,” she said. “Getting shot the other night was not my fault, you know? I was minding my business.”

“I’m well aware.” I released her and went back to getting dressed.

There was plenty of blame to go around for her getting caught in the path of a stray bullet. Most of it belonged to me. If I had let her walk out of the dealership the night I took her hostage, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

Then again, she would be in a far worse position. Her father would have forced her to be Collins’ bride. Was being married to a madman safer than pledging her loyalty to me?

She came up behind me, wrapped her arms around my waist, and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

“You’re brooding,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

“I always brood.” I smiled. “You should be used to it by now.”

“I am, but your mood has been really intense since the shooting.” She wiggled around until she stood in front of me. “You have a lot on your mind.”

“I don’t like being shot at.”

“Then you need to pick another line of work.” She straightened my tie and motioned toward my gun that was on the dresser. “If you did something that didn’t require you to carry that, maybe people wouldn’t shoot at you.”

“I guess we’ll never know.” I circled her in my arms and brought her closer to me. “Once we’re home, I’ll settle down.”

“When I’m locked in the tower?”

“At least I know you’re safe in the tower.”

“I don’t blame you for what happened the other night.”

No, you should blame your father.

“I thought you liked being my prisoner.” I took her chin between my fingers. “Don’t you?”

“It has its advantages.”