Page 77 of I'll Be There
Blood saturated his shirt, his hands—please, let it not be his!That thought couldn’t cling, however, not with smoke seeping in from the pizzeria, not with Conner bouncing to his feet, following Micah outside. Outside—into the range of asecondshooter.
Of course, he’d leap head first into danger. She’d only barely registered Micah as he ran back, picked up a board, grabbed a scarf, and lit it on fire. As he returned to the door and flung the torch out into the parking lot. It took a couple beats after they vanished to do the math.
Smoke.
Cover.
No...no!
She’d gotten up, the horror drawing her to the door to watch her reception tent become an inferno below.
The fury of the blaze pinned her there just as Conner jumped out from behind a truck. As he actually shouted at someone toshoothim.
What kind of man did that?
The kind, clearly, who had no regard for himself. And now, that thought sunk her to her knees beside him. She found her voice. “Yeah, everyone’s okay. The Deep Haven EMT is there, and when I left, they were checking everyone out. We’re...we’re okay. But you’re bleeding...”
He sat staring at his hands. Blood grooved the lines, running down his sleeve, pooling at his wrist.
“You’reshot!”
He shook his head. “Just a graze. It’s nothing.”
For a brutal, raw second, Liza realized this moment just might define the rest of her life. Conner, injured and black-faced, crumpled on the floor while one of his buddies fought forhis life in the ER. Her, arriving late on the scene to try to scrape up the details, piece back together not only her fractured nerves but somehow figure out how to hold together the shattered yet furious man whom she’d chosen to love. A man who looked at his wounds and declared them nothing.
Only twelve hours ago, she’d woken in this very hospital and decided she could join Conner in his life.
Maybe not.
But, she didn’t have to dissect her future right now. At this moment, Conner seemed to be visibly shredding, his reddened eyes tearing through a soot-blackened face, maybe even one of his hands broken, the way he held it, possibly without even realizing it. Horror—part fury, part disbelief—radiated off his trembling shoulders.
She took a breath, wanting to touch him, yes, but the adrenaline had caught up with her, too. “What were youthinking?”
“I didn’t want to scare you. I thought...he was watching you, Liza. I heard your conversation.”
Ho-kay, so they weren’t communicating. “No,” she said. “No—what were you thinking jumping in front of a gun,asking to be shot?”
His mouth opened. Closed. “I couldn’t think of anything else. He had the rifle aimed at you...”
Oh. Because she’d come outside. She swallowed, her throat on fire, eyes burning. They sat alone in the ER, but she knew the guys itched to stalk the halls, stand sentry over Reuben.
She whisked her hand across her cheek. “So, unravel this. Who was watching me? What conversation did you hear?”
Conner scrubbed a hand down his face, leaving bloody, blackened lines, like some ancient warrior. “Today, this morning. When I met with Blankenship, the NSA investigator.He tried to convince me that I had my facts all wrong—but then, told me to back off. To let it go, walk away.” He lifted his eyes, searching, pained, in hers. “Then he took his cell phone off mute, and I heard your voice. You were talking about the Devil’s Kettle, and eating dinner at—”
“Naniboujou. Yeah, I remember.” His words sent a cold finger down her spine. “Are you saying that the tourist was really there to...threaten me?”
“And me,” Conner said. He reached out, as if to touch her hair, then let his hand drop. “It worked. I realized, right then, that I couldn’t keep chasing a ghost, or let my past shadow my future. I did want to let it go, Liza—you need to believe me—I meant what I said.”
She caught his hand, because the tenor, the agony in his voice, could push a burr into her chest, make her weep. “Idobelieve you. This wasn’t your fault. But—why do you have to be the first guy to jump in front of the shooter? Twice, you were going to sacrifice yourself—”
“Because he was going to shoot you! And burn the rest of us to death!”
She kept her voice quiet. “I know.”
And it hit her then. Shedidknow. Maybe always had, but perhaps she simply needed to be reminded of it, see it in action.
Let it sink in, claws and all, to her heart.
