Author: Olivia Cunning

He parked his motorcycle on the street and headed up the stairs to his apartment. He was stripping the sheets off his bed when his cell phone rang.

“I’m here. Will my car be safe parked on the street?” Aggie asked. “This neighborhood looks a little shady.”

Little shady? Maybe. If she considered a dense forest a little shady. He glanced around his bare-walled apartment. She would not be happy here. He was embarrassed that he even lived here. “Let’s go to a hotel.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m already parked. Come help me with my luggage.”

“I’ll be right down.” He kicked the dirty sheets under his bed and headed down to help her with her bags.

By the time he reached the sidewalk, a couple of men were already helping her with her bags. Or rather, trying to help themselves to her bags.

One tossed her suitcase into the back of a pickup. Another tugged on her purse, which she was clinging to with both hands. “Give me your purse, bitch.”

“Let go, you fucking jerk.” She kicked him in the shin and gave her purse a hard yank. Contents spilled across the cement, but she was unwilling to give an inch in their tug of war. Not even when the man pulled a gun.

“I’m going to shoot you if you don’t let go.”

“Get a job, you fucking loser,” she bellowed. “This is mine. I worked hard for it.”

Apparently, Jace’s woman was lacking a fear gene. He knew fear though. It hadn’t gotten its claws into him in years, but it did now. His blood turned cold in his veins, and all he could think was to get her away from danger.

Jace charged forward and shoved Aggie aside, sending her scrambling to maintain her balance and still keep a grip on her stupid purse. Before he could turn to confront the mugger, two successive gunshots sliced through his body. The back of his right shoulder. Through his right arm. Tires squealed. The ground tilted beneath him and rose up to meet his face. Someone screamed his name. Everything went black.

Chapter 19

Aggie turned at the sound of gunshots. Saw the blood splatter out of Jace’s arm. Watched him fall. Felt her world crumble. “Jace!”

Someone grabbed her arm and shoved a gun under her chin. “I said, give me your fucking purse. Don’t make me kill you too, you stupid bitch.”

She couldn’t comprehend the danger she was in, could only watch the blood spread in a widening puddle from beneath the only man she’d ever loved. “Jace…”

Gritting her teeth, she dropped her purse on the cement and grabbed her left fist in her right hand. With a scream of rage, she delivered a vicious elbow to her captor’s stomach.

He grunted in pain. She stomped the instep of his foot.

“Ow, bitch. What do you think—”

She punched him in the balls, taking him down to his knees. His grip on his gun slackened. She grabbed the back of his head and drove the bridge of his nose into her knee. He fell unconscious on the sidewalk, the gun tumbling from his grasp.

Aggie flew to Jace’s side. “Oh my God,” she gasped, too upset to do anything but hover over him. He was bleeding so much. Surely, he was dead.

She dialed 911. Before the dispatcher even answered, the sound of sirens coming from the distance sounded like a chorus of angel harps.

“What is your emergency?”

“M-my boyfriend’s been shot.”

“Your location?”

She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything.

“I’m outside. On the sidewalk.”

“Can you see a street sign?”

Aggie looked up and read the names of the streets from the signs on the corner of the nearest intersection.

The dispatcher said, “Take a deep breath, honey. Someone called about a mugging in progress a few minutes ago. Police and paramedics are already on their way.”

Aggie could hear the sirens growing louder by the second.

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

She covered her lips with a trembling hand and looked down at him. The puddle of blood beneath him was spreading. “J-Jace.”

“Is he still breathing?” the dispatcher asked.

She stared at Jace, but her blurry eyes refused to take in anything but the blood pooling around his right arm. “I– I don’t know.” She glanced around, hoping someone with a lick of sense was nearby to tell her if Jace was still breathing. The streets were eerily empty. It was as if the world had deserted her. Deserted Jace. Her only lifeline was the calm woman on the other end of the line.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” the woman asked.

“Aggie,” she squeaked.

“Aggie, listen to his chest. See if his heart is beating. If it isn’t, I’ll help you start CPR.”

Aggie leaned over Jace and pressed her ear to his back, listening for the sound of his heart. It still beat, sluggishly at best.

“It’s still beating,” she said to the dispatcher.

“Is he breathing? Feel for air coming from his nose and mouth.”

She moved her hand in front of his face and felt his warm breath against her fingertips. “Yes. He’s breathing.”

“Then just sit tight until help arrives.”

Sit tight? That was the woman’s advice? Aggie dropped her cell phone on the ground. She had to do something for him, but didn’t know what. Should she try to stop the bleeding? Turn him onto his back? She rubbed her forehead. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered brokenly. She smoothed his leather jacket over his back, not knowing how that was supposed to help. She brushed Jace’s hair from his forehead, leaving several streaks of his blood on his skin. “I don’t know what to do. Jace? Jace, tell me what to do!”

The sirens continued past the corner and toward the end of the next block. Maybe they had the wrong address. She had to flag them down. For Jace’s sake. As useless as she currently was, they would know how to help him.

“I’ll be back,” she promised Jace, scared to leave him, but more scared not to leave him.

She raced to the curb and waved her arms wildly at a passing cop car. Tires squealed as the officer stomped on his brakes. An ambulance did a U-turn at the end of the block and pulled up to the curb on the opposite side of the street.

An officer climbed from his cruiser, eyeing the blood on Aggie’s face and hands with concern. “Ma’am. Ma’am, are you hurt? Someone called in shots fired.”

“No, I’m fine. Please. You have to help Jace. He’s been shot. Hurry.”

She ran back to where she’d left Jace and found the mugger with the gun groaning as he struggled to regain consciousness. He took a deep, startled breath and reached for his gun. The cop beside Aggie drew his weapon and went down on one knee.

“Drop your weapon,” the officer yelled.

Aggie didn’t hesitate. She rushed toward the thug and kicked him in the side of the head. The gun went off, bullet flying wildly without aim.

“You son of a bitch,” she growled. She kicked him in the crotch. Once. Twice. Feeling his nuts crunch against bone beneath her foot. He cried out, clutching his balls in agony, the gun forgotten beside him. She didn’t know how to help Jace, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to stand there while the dick who’d shot him hurt someone else.

“Are you crazy?” the cop said, toeing the gun out of the man’s reach. “He had a gun, and you jump him? You’re lucky you didn’t get shot.”

“What are you doing?” she yelled at the cop. “Help Jace. I don’t know what to do for him. Help him!”

Two paramedics jogged across the street toward them, wheeling a gurney that carried a large first-aid kit. While the police officer wrestled the injured mugger into a pair of handcuffs, the medics worked with Jace, trying to stem the flow of blood. They removed his jacket and tossed it aside. The entire right side of his white T-shirt was saturated with blood.

Aggie scooped up his coat and cradled it against her chest, watching the EMTs do their thing.

“There’s an exit wound for this one, but the second bullet is still lodged inside his shoulder.”

“Keep pressure on it. We’ve got to get him to the hospital. He’s losing a lot of blood.”

Two officers escorted the gunless thug toward a cruiser. “You’re dead, you fucking bitch. As soon as I make bail, you’re dead!” he shouted at Aggie.

Aggie heard him, but was too worried about Jace to feel any concern for herself. The cops heard him though. “I’ll be sure to file that threat in my report,” one officer said as he shoved the guy into the back of the cruiser. “Bail is not an option. Where’s your accomplice?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the mugger claimed.

His accomplice had Aggie’s suitcase and had sped off as soon as his buddy had shot Jace. Not that it mattered—nothing mattered but seeing Jace smile again.

“Ma’am, we need to ask you a few questions.”

Aggie didn’t look at the speaker. She couldn’t take her eyes off Jace.

When the police officer grabbed her arm, she twisted away. “No. Get your hands off me.”

The paramedics lifted Jace onto a gurney, pushing hard on the wound in his shoulder. His hand was ghostly white as the tourniquet around his upper arm stemmed the blood flow to the gunshot wound in his biceps.

“He needs oxygen.”

“He needs blood is what he needs. Jesus.”

“Get him in the ambulance.”

In a strange state of detachment, Aggie followed the stretcher as they wheeled it toward the waiting ambulance. She stepped off the curb, oblivious to the traffic that an officer was directing around the police cruisers. Someone grabbed her arm again. This time he did not let go when she tried to twist away.

“Ma’am, we need to ask you a few questions.”

She shook her head vigorously, tears blinding her.

The officer tugged her arm, trying to get her to follow him toward the police car. “What happened? Ma’am, tell me what happened.”

“They took my suitcase. Wanted my purse too. I should have just given it to them. Jace!” she yelled. “Jace!”

“We’re taking him to County,” a paramedic said. Aggie didn’t understand what they meant. County? What county? Jace’s gurney was lifted into the back of the ambulance, and the paramedics climbed inside. Someone closed the door and slapped the back of the vehicle. It took off down the street, lights flashing, sirens blaring.

“Was there more than one?” the officer asked.

Aggie nodded and burst into quaking sobs, her face buried in Jace’s ruined leather jacket.

Chapter 20

Jace groaned, trying to force his eyes open. He felt like an elephant was standing on his right shoulder. Someone touched his cheek gently.

“Hey there, open your eyes, cutie,” a soft voice said.

“Aggie?” he whispered.

“My name is Karen. I’m your nurse.”

Nurse? What? Memories flooded his mind, one on top of the other, converging into an indecipherable mess. He could only make sense of two things. He’d been shot, and the guy with the gun had Aggie.

“Aggie!”

He sat bolt upright in the hospital bed. The nurse tried to coax him back down. “We couldn’t find identification on you. Do you know your name?”

“Where’s Aggie? We have to send someone to help her. We have to…”

“I don’t know who Aggie is. She’s not here. You came in by yourself. Does she know where you are? We could call her.”

He pushed the nurse aside and tried to climb from the bed. Pain stabbed through his shoulder and his arm, but he could tolerate that pain. Not knowing where Aggie was, knowing he’d failed to keep her safe—that he could not tolerate.

“You have to stay in bed. You just got out of surgery and are in no condition to go anywhere.” The nurse pushed the call button for help. “I’ll give you another sedative and something for the pain.”