“That belly shot might have hit vitals. Let’s get this boat turned around. I think the party is over now anyway.”
“You were the one invited.” Reign knelt there with her dark hair in a shining curtain, blood pooling around her knees. “The boat. Good idea. Make it happen. His mother won’t really want to talk to me, especially now if this is my fault. Besides, I’m staying with him. Go .”
Interesting that she also realized she was the target. Or maybe not that interesting, since a man was shot in her home only a few days ago.
Nick went. He tried to keep a low profile along the deck in case he was wrong about the retreating boat, racing, shirtless, finding his hostess after a few inquiries, letting her know it was her son that had been shot.
They were back at the port with impressive speed, and luckily, between Reign’s efforts and a doctor on board who was one of the guests, there was an ambulance waiting when they docked and Ariano seemed to be holding his own. Awake and lucid, he almost seemed more concerned with Reign’s distress than his injuries. Bloody and weak, he was strapped to a gurney, and Nick had to give credit to the response time of the nearest hospital.
Those swirling red lights did nothing to improve the situation, and Reign truly did look stricken.
“I’ll be fine,” Ariano promised, holding her hand, though it was a little hard to believe considering he was covered in blood and pale as a ghost. “Stop crying. You never cry.”
The victim’s mother rushed up in her expensive black cocktail dress, but the EMT ignored her and asked Reign, “Are you his wife? You’re awfully pale. If you’d care to ride along—”
Reign shook her head, standing up. “We are just very good friends.”
It was true, her pallor nearly matched his.
Ariano actually joked. “She won’t say yes.”
When the gurney was loaded into the ambulance and Reign turned to Nick, he said evenly before she could speak, “I know. We’re going to the hospital. I’ll drive you there and stay as long as you need me.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was hushed.
“Like I’d leave you alone, especially after this particular evening.” Nick took her arm, steering her back toward where he’d parked his car in a bevy of expensive vehicles on the pier. “Come on. He’s going to be in surgery for a while; you do know that, right? Did you eat anything at all?”
Reign shook her head again. How she managed to look beautiful with smudged mascara, he didn’t know, but somehow she pulled it off. “There’s no way I could eat now, I—”
“Yes, there is. It’s a mistake to forget that a human being must eat and sleep to stay strong. We’re going to stop somewhere and talk about this, and then we’ll go to the hospital and find out how he’s doing, okay? The bottom line here is there’s nothing you can do for him until he’s out of recovery. If you can argue that point, go ahead and give it a try.”
“There’s blood on the hem of my dress.”
“No one will notice. I’ll pick someplace dark.” He pressed a button on his keychain. “If this is going to be a long night, you’re not going through it on no fuel. Stop arguing with me.”
The first hint of humor surfaced. “Does it work for anyone? Arguing with you?”
“Nope.” He opened her door. “Or at least not in their favor. Get in.”
She slid into the car and settled into the seat. Typically Reign, she rallied enough to lift her head and say, “I’m letting you get away with ordering me around.”
“Yeah, let’s talk about your independence later.”
“Here we go, arguing again.”
He actually admired her firm determination to take care of herself, but the situation, especially after the events of this evening, had him worried. Nick hated being in the dark—the convoluted way he’d been approached to take the hit on her had given him pause at the time, and now he was more confused than ever over what exactly was happening. He got
“You were the one invited.” Reign knelt there with her dark hair in a shining curtain, blood pooling around her knees. “The boat. Good idea. Make it happen. His mother won’t really want to talk to me, especially now if this is my fault. Besides, I’m staying with him. Go .”
Interesting that she also realized she was the target. Or maybe not that interesting, since a man was shot in her home only a few days ago.
Nick went. He tried to keep a low profile along the deck in case he was wrong about the retreating boat, racing, shirtless, finding his hostess after a few inquiries, letting her know it was her son that had been shot.
They were back at the port with impressive speed, and luckily, between Reign’s efforts and a doctor on board who was one of the guests, there was an ambulance waiting when they docked and Ariano seemed to be holding his own. Awake and lucid, he almost seemed more concerned with Reign’s distress than his injuries. Bloody and weak, he was strapped to a gurney, and Nick had to give credit to the response time of the nearest hospital.
Those swirling red lights did nothing to improve the situation, and Reign truly did look stricken.
“I’ll be fine,” Ariano promised, holding her hand, though it was a little hard to believe considering he was covered in blood and pale as a ghost. “Stop crying. You never cry.”
The victim’s mother rushed up in her expensive black cocktail dress, but the EMT ignored her and asked Reign, “Are you his wife? You’re awfully pale. If you’d care to ride along—”
Reign shook her head, standing up. “We are just very good friends.”
It was true, her pallor nearly matched his.
Ariano actually joked. “She won’t say yes.”
When the gurney was loaded into the ambulance and Reign turned to Nick, he said evenly before she could speak, “I know. We’re going to the hospital. I’ll drive you there and stay as long as you need me.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was hushed.
“Like I’d leave you alone, especially after this particular evening.” Nick took her arm, steering her back toward where he’d parked his car in a bevy of expensive vehicles on the pier. “Come on. He’s going to be in surgery for a while; you do know that, right? Did you eat anything at all?”
Reign shook her head again. How she managed to look beautiful with smudged mascara, he didn’t know, but somehow she pulled it off. “There’s no way I could eat now, I—”
“Yes, there is. It’s a mistake to forget that a human being must eat and sleep to stay strong. We’re going to stop somewhere and talk about this, and then we’ll go to the hospital and find out how he’s doing, okay? The bottom line here is there’s nothing you can do for him until he’s out of recovery. If you can argue that point, go ahead and give it a try.”
“There’s blood on the hem of my dress.”
“No one will notice. I’ll pick someplace dark.” He pressed a button on his keychain. “If this is going to be a long night, you’re not going through it on no fuel. Stop arguing with me.”
The first hint of humor surfaced. “Does it work for anyone? Arguing with you?”
“Nope.” He opened her door. “Or at least not in their favor. Get in.”
She slid into the car and settled into the seat. Typically Reign, she rallied enough to lift her head and say, “I’m letting you get away with ordering me around.”
“Yeah, let’s talk about your independence later.”
“Here we go, arguing again.”
He actually admired her firm determination to take care of herself, but the situation, especially after the events of this evening, had him worried. Nick hated being in the dark—the convoluted way he’d been approached to take the hit on her had given him pause at the time, and now he was more confused than ever over what exactly was happening. He got
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