But was she the only one? Hard to tell. But if so, that was okay. He’d said casual. It wasn’t his fault that she hadn’t managed to keep it that way. She’d get herself together. She would.
She sagged a little, feeling the ache behind her ribs that showed her up as a big, fancy liar. With a shake of her head, she turned off the lights, grabbed her key and went to push open the back door, but it got stuck on something. She pushed a little harder, and when it moved enough for her to squeeze out, she nearly tripped over-
A body.
He was on his side facing away from her. Dark hair, buff arms, broad shoulders, blood pooling beneath him on the ground-
Oh, God.
This wasn’t just any body, this one was as familiar to her as her own.
With a groan, Jacob shifted, and she stepped over him and dropped to her knees with a shocked sob.
He rolled to his back, face tight in a grimace as she gave the information to emergency dispatch.
“Goddamn,” he said through his teeth when she was done and pressed harder on the wound. “That hurts.”
She slid a hand beneath his head to move it to her lap, and her fingers came away bloody. “You must have hit your head.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” He was staring up at her and blinking rapidly. “Explains why there’s four of you.” He closed his eyes. “Get inside and stay away from the windows.”
“What? I’m not leaving you!”
“Goddammit, Bella. The shooter could still be out here somewhere.”
She lifted her head and looked around, heart pumping so hard she could scarcely breathe. “No one’s out here.”
“Did it go through?”
“What?”
“The bullet. Did it go through?”
She let out a breath and looked him over. Hole in the front. Gently she leaned over him so she could see the back.
God.
God, there was so much blood. “Yes,” she said shakily. “It went straight through.”
“That’s good.” His eyes were a little glazed and fixed on what was right in front of his face-her chest. “Nice bra.”
She made a sound that was a half laugh, half sob, and applied more pressure.
“Oh, shit,” Jacob rasped through his teeth.
“I’m sorry. You’re bleeding so much.”
“Call Ethan. Have him tell Tom his lunch break’s over.”
Again she used her cell. Onlookers were starting to trickle into the parking lot, one of whom brought her a shawl to wrap around herself. Two of the adjacent shop owners were there, too, and several people that Bella didn’t know, all standing a respectful distance back.
She heard sirens. “They’re coming.”
He didn’t move or open his eyes and she gripped him tight. “Jacob!”
“Shh,” Jacob whispered. “He’s sleeping.”
“No. Stay with me,” she said fiercely, leaning down to put her face right in his. “Don’t you dare leave me.”
“Bella,” he said softly, sounding pained. He squeezed her hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay, then.”
He didn’t say anything more, but she could see his chest rising and falling. Breathing. Breathing was good.
The ambulance pulled into the lot and everything happened in super speed then. She was pulled free of Jacob, who was quickly assessed, his vitals taken and an IV started. She heard the EMT report to the hospital that they had a thirty-two-year-old male with a through-and-through GSW to the shoulder, vitals stable, possible slight concussion.
She never took her eyes off Jacob. He was clearly woozy, but he’d been able to give his name, age, the time and place. That had to be good, she told herself.
Then he was loaded up.
She tried to go with him, but another EMT detained her, gaze running over her gently as he assessed her to make sure the blood all over her wasn’t hers. By the time it was determined she was fine, the ambulance with Jacob had left.
Fine. She knew just where the hospital was, since on her first week in Santa Rey she’d cut her finger with her paring knife and had required three stitches. She needed a shirt anyway, and she had to lock up, and she had to-
“Bella.”
She turned and found a grim-looking Ethan, and nearly lost it at the familiar face.
Right. She had to talk to the police.
Yet again.
“Oh, Christ,” he said when he got a good look at her. “Were you hit?”
“No, it’s Jacob’s blood.”
He backed her into the kitchen, keeping a tight grip on her until she sat in a chair. Without a word, he went to the refrigerator and got her a bottle of water. “Drink,” he said, and went to the sink to wet a towel.
“Someone shot him,” she said softly.
“I know.” Gently he pulled the shawl off her, then ran the towel over her arms. He rinsed it out, then handed it back to her, presumably so that she could do her own torso. “What did you see?” he asked.
“Nothing. I saw nothing. I got a sort of hinky feeling, and I shrugged it off.” She shook her head. “Willow came back for her purse-”
“Willow was here?”
“Yes, briefly. After she left, I came to the back door here to leave, and nearly tripped over him. He was just lying there.” Her hand was shaking so badly she couldn’t drink. “And I’m shaking. I never shake.”
He shrugged out of his shirt and wrapped it around her. “Are you going to take me to the station again?” she asked him.
“I’m not a complete asshole. I’m going to wait for you to collect yourself, then I’m going to drive you to the hospital to see him.”
She lifted her head and met his gaze. “You’re worried about him, too.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Yeah.”
She stood up. “Consider me collected.”
He looked her over as if to make his own assessment, then he reached for her hand and took her to his car.
12
GETTING SHOT SUCKED. Being X-rayed and MRI’d sucked. Lying in a hospital bed sucked.
Jacob kept his eyes closed because somehow he hurt less that way. What else sucked? he wondered. Oh, yeah, wearing a stupid hospital gown with his ass hanging out-
At the slight rustle at his side, he gave up the pity party and opened his eyes.
The room immediately started spinning wildly. Thank you, morphine.
The lights were low. He could hear the soft muted sounds of monitors and sensed activity just outside his door,
