Protect and Serve by Kat Jackson

time for any of that.
     
    I pushed myself up with my other hand, switched my gun to my left, and rose up just as the sound of a gunshots reached my ears. Three or four rounds, a quick squeeze of fire from O’Rourke’s Uzi. Nathan fell backward even as I stood, giving me the perfect shot at Francis O’Rourke.
     
     
    One bullet left… The asshole just shot Nathan…
     
    I wasn’t left-handed. My right was mangled, practically useless. But I didn’t have time to think or strategize. I had to pull the trigger. Now.
     
    I pressed my right hand up under the stock to steady it, ignoring the white-hot agony that flooded all the way into my shoulder. Then I blew out a breath and pulled the trigger, my eyes never leaving Francis’ baby blues, not even for a second.
     
    That was how I knew how this would end: when I saw how surprised he looked.
     
    The gun clattered onto the asphalt as Francis went down from a neat entrance wound to the chest. I dropped my own gun, hardly believing what had happened as I fell next to Nathan’s body, my hands clawing at his shirt, blood pouring from my palm.
     
    “Chandra,” Nathan coughed, opening his eyes. “You’re bleeding. Are you okay?”
     
    I nodded as I stared at him, tugging at his shirt. The dark vest peeked out from under his stylish button-up. “Oh, thank God…” I whispered. “You idiot. You colossal idiot…”
     
    “You know, nobody tells you how fucking bad it hurts to get shot in one of these things.”
     
    I nodded mutely, meeting his gaze. “I saved you,” I whispered. It was the only thing I could think of, the only thing I knew to say.
     
    As sirens approached form around the corner, Nathan grinned. He nodded and pulled me into his arms.
     
    “Yeah, you did,” he said, holding onto me as I swayed in shock.
     
    The cavalry was here. I could see the blue and red lights flashing around us, hear the squeals of ambulances and the steady beating of the chopper above us.
     
    But none of it compared to the comfort Nathan’s arms brought me. None of it compared to the sound of his heart beating in his chest.
     
    I closed my eyes and listened to that sound until it became the only thing I could hear. It sounded like victory.

 
    CHAPTER NINE
     
    “Jeez, detective. You look a mess.”
     
    I shook my head at Nathan, stepping past him and into his hotel room as he closed the door behind me, leaving the officers in the hall to hold vigil. He wasn’t completely wrong. The first shot fired had grazed my cheek, cutting a line shallow enough not to leave much of a scar, but deep enough to make me bleed all over the damn place. My hand was in much worse condition, riddled with glass and requiring a shit-ton of stitches to resolve.
     
    It’d taken several hours to get sewn up and convince the hospital to release me, but the hassle had been well worth it. I had no intention of staying there when I could be standing in Nathan’s hotel room just like I was now.
     
    My work wasn’t over. There was still something that had to be done, and I was the only one who could do it.
     
    “You are a pain in my ass,” I told him, shaking my head as I looked him over. There wasn’t a scratch on him, but I could tell he was still shaken. And who wouldn’t be? We’d been through hell together. “I’m so glad I’m off your case.”
     
    “Off my case?” he echoed, raising an eyebrow. “So you won’t be at the trial?”
     
    “Oh, I’ll be there,” I corrected him. “Just in a support capacity. Don’t want you falling off the wagon now that your life’s not endangered anymore. I gotta make sure you do the right thing.”
     
    “Right,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he looked me over. “That’s what you came here for? To tell me you’re off the case and insult my morality?”
     
    “Well, that,” I answered, suppressing a grin, “and to tell you something else, too. I wanted to say thank you. For what you did back there. It was stupid, but it was