At least, I expected to slide gracefully into oblivion. It didn’t exactly work that way, though.
“Got it.” That was Kael.Was I dead?Why wasn’t I hovering up above, looking down on my dead body?
“Send it to me. Does it need any editing?” Donegal.
“No, it’s perfect, actually. Why is she just lying there?” Kael answered. He came to stand above me. Although my eyes were closed, I could feel the weight of his observation.What do you mean, why am I just lying here? Your boy shot me, you fucking maniac.
I sensed Brodie squatting beside me again, his fingers roving through my hair, pressing gently. Should I tell him the injury was a little lower? “Emery.” I kept my eyes squeezed shut. “Macushla. You can open your eyes. We’re all done.”
That damn Guinness must have been more potent than I imagined, because no way was Brodie pulling me up into a sitting position, his hands tender and solicitous. The asshole had just murdered me.
I opened my eyes to see them all staring at me, Brodie with a crooked grin that made his dimple crease. Lowering my eyes, I looked at the blood on my jacket. Curiously, there was no pain. My hands scrambled to pull the jacket lapels to the side and discover... absolutely nothing. No holes, no bullet, no blood on the inside of my jacket...just...nothing other than an aching in my chest and a roaring in my ears.
I gave each of the men huddled around me a firm glare. “All right, motherfuckers, what the hell is going on here?”
