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Pink mist bloomed around Nestor’s right thigh. Screaming, Nestor collapsed on the ground. West flipped the man over and slapped steel cuffs onto his wrists.

Red pooled from Nestor’s thigh wound. West withdrew his phone. “Prisoner in custody. Send ambulance to Good Eats on Main.”

West glanced at her. Quinn shook, gooseflesh on her arms, blood drippingfrom a scalp wound. Her pretty dress was ripped, exposing her bra and panties. “You okay?”

He shrugged out of his shirt, placed it around her shivering body.

Stricken, she nodded. West flinched, pulled his belt free and wrapped it around Nestor’s thigh. A string of screams and curses followed. Quinn stared.

“You’re bleeding and you’re treating him!”

“I may have nicked an artery,”West told her.

“Let him bleed.”

“No can do, sweetheart. We need him for questioning.” West tightened the belt around Nestor’s leg and the man screamed again.

“Son of a bitch, that hurts, you bastard!” Nestor yelled.

“Shut up. Be grateful I don’t squeeze it tighter for daring to hurt my woman.” Grimacing, West sat back, gripped his shoulder. Blood stained the light gray shirt.

Sirens screeched in the distance. Unraveling the bandanna she wore in her hair, she pressed it against West’s wound.

She could have lost him.

“Hey.” West reached up, touched a tear trickling down her cheek. “It’s okay now, sweetheart. Bad guy is knocked out. He’ll go to prison. No one will threaten you again.”

“I’m not crying because of him.” Quinn rubbed her cheek against his tremblinghand. “I almost lost you, West.”

“But you didn’t. Takes more than a bomb and a knife to take me down.” He considered as she applied more pressure. “Well, maybe an HK416. Assault rifle. That could do the trick.”

How could he joke at something this serious? And then she saw the emotion clouding his gaze and knew that humor masked the fear he felt.

“You were scared,” she said. “Not foryourself.”

“I wasdamnscared. Haven’t felt that kind of fear in many years. I thought...I wouldn’t reach you in time. Your phone went to voice mail.”

She opened the door and the dog rushed out. Rex whined, jumping up and down on West. He rubbed the dog’s head.

“I’m okay, boy,” he told Rex.

“I couldn’t bear to talk with you again,” she whispered, broken. “Because I missed you somuch and I still haven’t forgiven you for keeping secrets from me.”

Her hands wouldn’t quit trembling. Quinn felt as if someone had tossed her into a bucket and kept shaking it. West took one hand, kissed it.

“Am I forgiven now?” he asked.

The ghost of a smile touched her wobbly mouth. “Maybe. When you recover.”

Six police officers stormed out of the back door, along with EMTs.One medic checked out West.

Finn Colton arrived next. Quinn’s mouth wobbled. Finn, her cousin. Over there, Brayden. She knew them, knew these men now gathered around West, doing their jobs with quiet efficiency.

“Is he going to be okay?” she asked the medic.

“We’ll take him in, keep him for observance.”

“No way. I’m fine,” West argued.