Page 63 of When He Fights
Gray waved his wrist brace.
“I saved Grayson’s life,” Emerson confessed.“I saw the truck’s window rolling down as the vehicle advanced.I saw the tip of the gun, and I knew what was going to happen even before the engine roared and the driver barreled fast toward his target.”A pause.“A target that was Grayson.I leapt into action.Tackled him.Saved him.”
“Broke my wrist,” Gray groused.“And, yes, she saved my life.I don’t think she will ever let me live that down.”
“I will not,” Emerson assured him as she lifted her chin just slightly.“But at least you get to keep living, so there’s that bonus.”
“Wait!”Ana jumped off the exam table.
Dammit, he’d put her?—
“Do notdaretry it again, Kane,” she ordered in a chilling tone.“I get that you’re worried about me, but you don’t need to be.You were the one standing in front of the picture window.You were literally between me and danger.I didn’t get hit.”Her eyes were big and deep and so very golden.“You were the one dripping blood.I was afraid that you’d been shot.When I found out that it was just glass that had cut you...”An exhale.“I was relieved.Still scared because there was a lot of blood, but at least you didn’t have bullets in you.”She reached for his hand.Squeezed it.Her voice warmed and softened as she told him, “Take a breath.Stop worrying so much about me.I am okay.”
He would always worry about her.His hand twisted so that he could cradle her fingers in his.When he finally looked up and around again, he found Emerson’s eyes on him.
Curious.Considering.
Then she caught his stare.Blinked.And he could read nothing about her expression.
“I talked to the cops on scene at Ana’s place.”Gray began to pace around the small room.He always paced when he was delivering bad news.“We got footage of the vehicle thanks to the doorbell camera.Same truck was involved in both shootings.It looks like there were two individuals in the truck.The driver and the shooter.First it went to the station, where I got the spray of bullets, and then the truck drove over to Ana’s place.”He frowned at a blood pressure cuff that had been left on a rolling tray.“Lots of her neighbors came out to watch the circus when the cops swarmed and the crime scene teams went to work.Mrs.Shirley Hosier— Mrs.Shirley’s grandson had given her a doorbell camera for Christmas.He didn’t like for his grandma to go to the door without knowing who might be waiting outside.She gave links to view the footage to the cops, and they discovered that the truck idled near Shirley’s place for a good five minutes before taking off and shooting.It was like the perps in the truck were waiting for something.”He stopped frowning at the cuff and turned his frown on Ana.“Almost like they were expecting a signal to attack.”
Ana shook her head.“There was no signal.I was playing the harp.Kane was listening, standing near me, and then, in the next moment, he was yelling for me to get down and launching his body to cover mine.”
He hadn’t been sure that he would get to her in time.When Kane swallowed, he tasted the fear that lingered.It was like bitter ash.He’d seen the truck, seen the gun—the tip, just as Emerson had described—and he’d known that the attack was seconds away.He’d leapt for Ana, only wanting to protect her.
It was his job, after all.Gray had deposited a big-ass check from the federal government in Kane’s bank account.Another freelance gig.
I’ll put that money into the same savings account that I’ve used for all of Ana’s rent payments.I won’t touch a dime of it.Because he didn’t need to be paid for watching Ana.
“Why on earth were you playing the harp in the middle of the night?”Emerson asked.Her head tilted to the right.
“Uh, Emerson.”Gray shook his head.“Not really the point.The point is the bullets that were flying.The point is that there were two attacks from the perps in that truck.One at the station.One at her place.There is an APB out for the truck now, FYI, everyone.We will find that vehicle.We are also pulling all traffic cams from the area.Maybe we’ll get a pic of the driver or the passenger—the shooter.Unfortunately, we already know the ride was reported stolen, so the driver isn’t the guy who owns it.The real owner is a farmer up in Hattiesburg who doesn’t know how his truck got all the way down here.”
Emerson moved to stand in front of Ana.Click.Slide.Click.Slide.
Kane frowned at her feet.“I’d probably just trash them.”
“They were really expensive shoes.Hoping I can get them repaired.”She focused on Ana.“Why were you playing the harp?At two a.m.?”
Ana glanced at Kane.
“Oh.”Emerson cleared her throat.“Had you two been, uh, were you busy, um?—”
“They have a cover story of being involved,” Gray cut in to say.“They aren’t lovers.Cover story, Emerson.Not reality.They aren’t involved.”
Yeah, buddy, we are.Not that he intended to broadcast his business.Kane had never been the type to kiss and tell.
“Jeez, Emerson,” Gray grumbled, “get your mind out of the gutter.”
Your mind is dead-on-track, Emerson.
“I have trouble sleeping,” Ana suddenly disclosed.
Kane’s attention shifted right back to her.Her cheeks had definitely reddened.
“I tend to wake up at the same time each night.I wake up at two.I go downstairs.I play the harp to calm down.To soothe myself.After a while, I’m able to go back to bed.”
“Logan loved hearing your music,” Emerson murmured.
