Page 118 of With A Little Luck
I frown as my vision gets even fuzzier. “Yeah, just hurry up. I’m pretty sure I’m about to pass out.”
And I promptly do exactly that.
I’m not dead.
Dr. Dane hooked me up with the good drugs.
The bullet went straight through and didn’t clip anything vital.
I got lucky.
It’s hard to be grateful when all I can think about is if Quincy is going to say enough is enough.
I don’t think she can technically break up with me when I don’t know if we’re even dating, but I did ask to court her. That’s supposedly like going steady for alphas and omegas.
At least that’s what I was taught.
She better not try to break up with me over this.
Costa was already going down, but I swear to fuck I’m going to make that son of a bitch suffer. This is exactly what I was telling Quincy when I said the bad guys don’t play by the rules.
Even among contract workers, there’s a code we follow.
You don’t involve women and children.
Hell, I’ve had opportunities to take out a target but held off because they had their wife or kid with them. Sometimes you get a window, and you either take it or you might not get another for a month. Still, you wait it out, even if your target is a grade-A piece of shit, because the goal isn’t to traumatize the target’s family.
These are unwritten rules, much like you never risk harming a civilian to complete a contract.
Whoever Costa hired has no honor.
Fuck.
My head is swimming with the pain meds. I don’t even know if my thoughts are making sense.
“You are going to be able to keep yourself vertical, right?” Shaw asks, holding open the door that leads from the garage to the back hallway. “The stairs might be pushing it.”
I squint and try to remember how high to lift my foot to hit the step.
Damn.
Dr. Dane is my new best friend.
He came through with the good drugs.
“We should have gone with Easton and let Valor handle getting Ridge inside,” Leo says, wrapping his forearm around my lower back.
“In case you forgot how to climb stairs, you lift one foot at a time.” Shaw cracks a shitty smile.
“I’m more than capable of walking up the stairs,” I grumble. “You guys are dicks.”
I don’t slap Leo’s arm away solely because I’m still light-headed. If I take a header into the concrete, that would take the day from questionable to downright shitty. It’s a slow process, but I make it up the stairs, and Shaw steps inside to get out of the doorway.
“Hartley and Quincy are still here, right?” They better not have bolted while I was in surgery.
“They’re here,” Shaw says as Leo releases me to close the door behind us.
“Well, thank fuck for that. Don’t leave with my meds or the extra dressings,” I grumble, shuffling along down the hallway.
