Page 100 of Exes Don't

“Deal. I’m taking you and Roy. He’s the one who really earned it.”

Kennedy whoops and sprints ahead. “Roy Boy! Wait up. I’ve got good news.”

I chuckle as I slow to a walk. There are staff, trainers, and logistic team members lining the walkway. I nod my head in appreciation as several of them call out, “Good game, Bates!” and “Go River Foxes!” And then I do a double-take, because Rose is standing not four paces ahead of me.

I freeze as our eyes lock. Itwasher with Ned. She’s wearing all black and an unreadable expression. What is she doing here? I change courses ever so slightly so I’m walking toward her, but her gaze bounces up and over my shoulder, and the look on her face goes from pensive to one of pure panic.

38

Shots Fired

Rose

I’m so caught up in the sight of Anton and the fact that his expression isn’t completely closed off when he sees me that I almost miss the figure that slides into view from around the corner. Before my mind can wonder what Anton might be thinking—or get my hopes up that maybe it’s not,Get the heck out of here. I don’t ever want to see you again—I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. It’s Charles. He’s got a bandanna wrapped around his mouth, but I watch in slow motion as he raises his Penwick-issued handgun and points it directly at Anton. My intuition and training kick in.

“Anton! Get down!” I launch myself at him.

Everything happens in slow motion. I collide with Anton’s shoulder, taking him so much by surprise that I knock him off balance. I topple to the ground on top of him as I register the searing pain in my leg.

Here’s the thing. Long ago, I reconciled the fact that I may have to take a bullet for one of my clients. Anton isn’t technically a client. Not anymore. But there’s no one I’m more willing to take a bullet for than him.

I press my full body into him, covering him with my person. He’s yelling at me, but I can’t make out the words. There’s a ringing in my ears and all sorts of whooshing light as people sprint past me in both directions. There’s a distant reverberation of a siren that seems to wail over the loudspeakers at the stadium, and then a voice comes through on the intercom. It’sall a cacophony of distant noise. I’m using all my energy—all my focus—to keep Anton safe.

But then, all of a sudden, I’m being rolled over, and Anton appears above me. He’s cradling my head in his arms, and the expression on his face is one of fear. His mouth is moving, and I blink up at him. It takes a couple seconds, but then my senses roar back, flooding my system with sounds and smells.

The blaring of an emergency siren rings in the background. Anton’s face is so close to mine I can see the lines of dried sweat running down his jaw line.

“Rose. Rose! Answer me.” His voice is rough and demanding, and though there are people moving everywhere, Anton keeps his gaze lasered on me.

“I…I’m sorry,” I croak. “For everything.” I wince. “My head feels fuzzy.”

“Hey. Hey!” Anton’s grip tightens, and it’s weird that I can feel that, but I can’t feel my right leg. It’s like the nerve endings along my neckline, where we’ve got skin-to-skin contact, are exposed. “Rosie, I need you to keep your eyes open for me.”

“I’ll try.” I search his gaze. “Are you hurt?”

He shakes his head. “No. I’m fine. You jumped in the way.”

“I guess I did.” I dart a glance to my lower body, but the blood on the floor beneath me makes my stomach roll, so I look away and pinch my eyes shut. “Oh boy. I did.”

Even with my eyes closed, I can tell when one of the medical personnel from the River Foxes starts evaluating me.

“Gunshot wound. Vitals stable. Signs of shock. I need an ambulance to the south end zone tunnel.” There’s movement, and then another voice speaks. “Bates, we gotta get you out of here. Let’s go.”

“I’m not leaving her.” Anton’s voice is firm, and even in my post-gunshot-wound fog, hope flutters in my chest.

I feel pressure on my leg and burning pain. I hiss.

“It’s okay, Rosie. Hey. Look at me.”

I glance up and into Anton’s worried eyes.

“I’ll be fine,” I tell him through gritted teeth.

His gaze flits to my leg and then back to my face. “I thought I saw you before the game. With Ned. But I didn’t think that could be right. Your assignment was called off, right? And yet, here you are…somehow still on the job.”

“Unofficially, if anyone asks,” I whisper.

Anton arches a brow.

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