“Deep breaths. They’re long gone. No more shooting.” His voice crooned from a magical place, and I concentrated on it, sucking in air, trying to keep from falling into a panic attack. “You control your own mind. Take it somewhere else. Just for a moment.”
My concentration shot straight to the hardness holding me. His breathing remained steady, his stance secure. Man, he was strong. And I liked the way we fit. I shook my head—this was insane, and I needed some space. No matter how many times I’d dreamed of him through the years, I had to pull it together. He was a criminal defendant facing trial, for Pete’s sake. People changed.
The sound of running feet as people barreled out the courthouse doors brought me back to the present. I surveyed the fancy suit I’d borrowed from my sister, Donna. Two jagged rips marred the skirt, but no bullet holes. Thank God. No wounds.
“I’m okay now.” I leaned to look up into his face. “You can put me down.” My arms remained around his neck, and I fought the urge to play with the thick hair curling over his nape. Feeling safe was almost an aphrodisiac. Who knew?
“I think I’ll keep you for a while.” His gaze ran over my face, his jaw tight. Sounded good. Then he took a quick inventory and blew out a breath. “Ah, sweetheart. You’re bleeding.”
I followed his gaze to my right shoulder. Holy crap. Blood welled, and suddenly my shoulder hurt. A lot.
“Jesus. You got shot,” Randy yelled.
Shot. Bullets and blood. Oh God.
Aiden stalked forward several paces to place me on the stone ledge that cornered the park. Quick movements had my sister’s jacket removed, and him leaning forward to peer at my wound.
Randy sniffed next to us, and I fought the urge to keep from screaming. Panic would only make things worse. My vision hazed. Wasn’t there an artery somewhere close to the bullet hole? Oh no. There was an artery.
“I’m bleeding out,” I sniffed.
Aiden bit back a quick grin. I knew he did, because a dimple flashed in his left cheek for just a second. “You’re okay,” he murmured.
“Hey Devlin.” The other man dressed in black that didn’t hide his intricate neck tattoos jogged up to hand my savior a smartphone. He was one of the guys who’d come into the courthouse the day before.
I blinked to keep conscious. Yep. I could feel the blood just draining out of me.
Aiden straightened and slid the phone into his back pocket. “The bullet burned you, Angel. A Band-Aid will suffice.” He partially turned toward the other man. “Get a first aid kit.”
I glanced down at a bad scrape. Oh. Just a scratch. No artery or spurting blood. Hmm. So much for worrying about my Last Will and Testament.
A spring breeze scattered pine needles across my shoes. I shivered in my light blue camisole, heat rising in my face when I remembered I hadn’t worn a bra. I mean, why would I since I’d kept the jacket on all day? “Ah, er…” My nipples pebbled against the silk.
Aiden grinned, shifting his weight to block me from the arriving police and bystanders gathering on the sidewalk. “Seriously. I’ve wondered. How are you?”
“You could’ve written. Emailed. Called.” I tried to hold back another shiver as well as the hurt I had no business feeling. “I mean, if you really wanted to know.”
“I had to leave, sweetheart. You know that.” His gaze ran over my skirt, somehow heating my legs.
“You could’ve called.” I sounded sad, and I didn’t want that. He’d left when he had turned eighteen. His grandma had died, and he’d been a person of interest in a felony car-stealing ring. So he’d just left. “I missed you.”
He sighed. “I was told you needed to move on without me.”
I blinked. I’d only been twelve years old when he’d left, and I’d thought he’d created the moon. He was sweet and kind and he’d saved my life. He was my friend, and I’d followed him around like a lost puppy for two years. He’d treated me like a kid sister, and I’d liked it. “Who told you to leave me alone?” My voice shook, I was so angry.
“Your shrink.” He lifted one very broad shoulder. “Dr. Petrolche said you were too attached and needed to heal on your own after…everything.”
That stupid shrink. He was crazier than I’d ever been. “They arrested him for having an affair with an underage patient.” I had known he wasn’t a very good psychologist, even as a kid.
Aidan’s dark eyebrows rose. “I hadn’t expected that.”
Randy coughed several times. “You were in therapy? Are you crazy? You can’t prosecute me if you’re nuts.”
“Shut up,” Aiden said mildly, looking at my legs again.
The other man jogged back up and handed Aiden a red box. Aiden grabbed Bactine out of the box to spray my shoulder before placing a wide bandage just above my bicep. For such a giant, he had a gentle touch.
I blinked, concentrating on his warm fingers and not the fact that I’d been shot.
