Ryan bellowed, “Get down!”
Nash was already spinning with her. Flying with her to the ground and covering her with his body.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
Not fireworks. Those were bullets blasting at them. Delaney was too afraid to scream, and she held onto Nash’s shoulders for dear life. She’d dropped the daisies. He was what she grasped. He was what mattered.
And he was covering her with his body as gunfire rained down on them.
Tires squealed as the vehicle raced away.
Nash kept covering her.
“Nash?” A strangled whisper. So many bullets. Terror threatened to choke her as she gasped out, “Nash, are you okay?”
He raised up. Stared down at her with an expression so fierce and dark that her heaving breath froze in her chest.
“Are you okay?” she repeated.
A jerky nod from him. His hands flew over her body, looking for injuries.
“I’m all right. Nash, Nash, I’m all right.”
He kept searching her for wounds. His hands touched her arms. Her stomach. Her legs.
“I’m all right, Nash! I promise!” Delaney blinked quickly because fear had her tearing up. She’d married him in one moment and nearly lost him in the next instant. That had not been part of the plan. A photographer should have been there to shoot them. Not someone with a real gun. The CIA had promised they would be safe.
The CIA lied.
“What happened?” A terrified cry from the organist. She stood near the open chapel doors, with the light glinting off her round glasses.
“Little…help…” A gasp. From Ryan.
Nash’s head jerked to the right. So did Delaney’s. Ryan stood a few feet away, with his hand to his left shoulder. As they watched, he shoved out of the suit coat that he wore. He revealed a crisp, white dress shirt. One that was quickly turning dark red all around his shoulder.
“Ryan!” Nash leapt to his feet.
Delaney tried to leap up after him.
“No!” Nash grabbed her. Tossed her over his shoulder. Carried her back to the chapel and shoved her inside. “Stay in here.”
“But—”
He pushed her and the organist back. Nash yanked the doors closed, slamming them right in front of Delaney.
“Oh, my dear.” The woman’s fingers fluttered around Delaney’s shoulder. “What happened?”
Every part of her wanted to run outside. She stared at the wooden doors before her. Not a dream wedding. Another nightmare. “I think someone just tried to kill my groom.”
He crushed the daisies beneath his feet. Nash hauled ass in order to get back to his brother. Ryan had moved toward the side of the chapel, seeking cover, and the blood on his shirt had just gotten darker. Thicker.
“I…returned fire,” Ryan grunted. He still gripped his weapon. “It’s not as…bad as it looks.”
Nash looked for himself. He ripped away Ryan’s shirt.
“You should call for backup.” Strained words from Ryan. “In case the car comes…back.”
“The agents are swarming right now.” He’d seen them surging forward. He could hear their footsteps behind him. “No shooter should be here. No one should have gotten to us so soon. This wasn’t part of the plan.” The bullet had gone in and out of his brother’s left shoulder. Nash could see the exit wound when he pulled Ryan forward a bit.
