Page 78 of Wasted
Twenty-Three
“Are you okay?” Cillian’s deep voice reached for Victoria, dispersing the fog that seemed to have descended on her mind.
Gunfire. She had hoped never to hear that sound again. Once in a lifetime was quite enough.
“Victoria?”
She blinked and turned her head to look upward.
Cillian’s handsome features greeted her, his coal eyes a stormy sea of emotion. Concern, anger…
“Is he gone?” Somehow the assumption that a person who shot at people from a moving car was male seemed logically sound.
Cillian twisted his head toward the street. “Yeah.” He placed his hands on either side of her and lifted himself up. Surprising he’d been so careful not to actually touch her with his body when he’d shielded her.
Victoria had always known he was protective and courageous. But she’d never thought she would be in such great need of those qualities as she had been during the last few seconds. Or minutes, according to how it had felt.
He had probably saved her life. And the life of poor Mrs. Kline.
He helped the older woman to her feet as Victoria sat up, her gaze staying on the hero who had protected them both. The position of his body on Victoria at the front of the step would have also blocked any shots from hitting Mrs. Kline behind them unless the bullets traveled through Cillian first.
The thought sent a shudder through Victoria. He could have been killed.
“Are you cold?” He suddenly appeared in front of her, extending his hand toward her.
She placed her hand in his and was instantly enveloped in the warmth of his large, strong grip. Sparks emanated from the heat of the connection as he pulled her to standing, less than a foot from his chest. She tilted her head up to meet his gaze.
The same electricity and emotional vortex that she seemed to have fallen into reflected in his eyes.
“Oh, my siding.” Dismay squeezed Mrs. Kline’s voice.
How had Victoria forgotten she was there? Perhaps watching them. Heat flushed her cheeks as she pulled her hand from Cillian’s and stepped away.
But Mrs. Kline stared at her house where bullet-holes made the blue siding resemble splintered Swiss cheese. “This will cost a pretty penny to repair.”
The woman was remarkably resilient. She had been shot at, and all she was concerned about was her home repair. No wonder Thomas had liked her so well. He’d always said she was the most practical person he knew.
Victoria glanced at Cillian. “I suppose we should call the police.” For the first time, she understood the way Cillian had avoided policemen when they were dating as teens. If one had been in trouble, or cared about those who were, certain police personnel didn’t seem like one’s friends.
“Could help, in this case.” He pulled his phone from his back jeans pocket but then met her gaze, waiting. For her approval?
She moistened her lips, trying to ignore the nerves that jumbled in her stomach. Somehow facing bullets had made her less apprehensive than the idea of facing McCully again. Likely because he could put her behind bars for a second time. But she nodded. “Go ahead.”
Ten minutes later, when Detective McCully emerged from his unmarked car on the street by Mrs. Kline’s house, Victoria was questioning her agreement that they should call the police.
Mrs. Kline’s short driveway was already filled with the two squad cars that had responded to their emergency call. At least the officer who had called in McCully had warned Victoria he was going to do so, once the officer had learned who she was.
The incident had to be connected to the murder of Thomas. It was a good thing McCully had been called. Perhaps he wouldn’t see her as the culprit now that someone had shot at her.
Victoria cycled through the hopeful thoughts in her head as McCully stalked up the driveway, stopping in front of her and Cillian where they stood by the first squad car.
“You sure seem to be in the middle of a lot of crimes, Ms. Weston.” His smirk didn’t distract her from the suspicion that hid behind a thin veneer of amusement in his eyes. “Guess I should’ve just sent a unit out as soon as your monitor showed you’d left Gealanden and gone to Feldon.”
Victoria hid the shudder that traveled through her. What a horrifying invasion of privacy to have her every move watched by someone, especially someone like Detective McCully.
“Got it backwards, as usual, McCully. Someone is putting her in the middle of these crimes.” Cillian’s tone held challenge. “And this time, it nearly killed her.”
McCully lifted his attention to Cillian, and the two men locked stares in what appeared to be a silent battle of wills.
