Mercy swallowed, and Malco waited for her to speak as they stood alone in the corridor.
“You’re a good man, Malco, and I hope you and Frida can make this work.”
Malco looked toward the door as the woman in question poked her head out and looked for him, her eyes going warm when they found his.
“So do I, Merc, so do I.”
With that, he squeezed her shoulder and moved toward the woman who had become his true north.
“Is Mercy all right?” Frida asked as he pushed gently into the room where they could monitor Tycen with Ward.
“Yeah, she will be.” Frida seemed to accept that, and they both turned to the boy that had started this huge investigation.
“How is he?” Malco observed the boy. He had been beaten, his face carrying evidence of bruising.
“Okay, considering. He’s frightened as you would expect and worried about blowback on his family.”
“Did you reassure him they’re safe?” Frida turned to him arms folded and raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. Malco grinned and backed up. “Sorry, I was just checking.”
“Well, don’t. I’m exceptionally good at my job, and this isn’t my first rodeo.”
Malco abandoned that, knowing it was the better option. “Would you like to stay and be involved with the reunion between him and his mom or come with me and interview JaKheel?”
Frida wrinkled her nose and tipped her head, and he could see she was as torn as he was. Part of him wanted to stay and watch, knowing that their own families hadn’t had the same happy outcome.
“I want to stay, but we need to get JaKheel to talk. Kasten most likely already knows what’s happening, and the Blood Razors will really want blood now. We need to wrap this up as soon as possible.”
“Agreed.” He moved closer to her and watched her head tip to his, her pretty eyes never leaving his. Malco wrapped his free hand around her waist and leaned in close, causing her to arch back as she kept eye contact.
“I missed you,” he breathed, so close to her lips he could almost taste their sweetness.
“I was so scared for you, Malco.” She admitted it, and he knew how much it had taken for her to open up to him and admit that.
“I know, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to say sorry for being the kind of man who puts his life on the line for innocence and justice, Malco. Just promise you’ll come home to me.” Malco pulled back slightly and grinned.
“Was that a proposal?”
Frida’s eyes went wide, and she laughed. “Of course not.”
Malco felt light even in this dark situation they found themselves. He kissed her hard, tasting her sweetness, reveling in her strength. He pulled back when they were both breathless and looked at her—her every feeling was on full display in the openness of her expression.
“It was totally a proposal.” He let her go and walked for the door, loving the sound of her chuckle behind him as she denied it vehemently.
“It most definitely was not a proposal, jerk-off.” Malco spun, eyes wide as they exited the building.
“Jerk-off?” He smiled at her, but a fraction of a second too late, he registered the horror on her face before gunfire pierced the joyous sound behind him, and pain lanced through his body.
Chapter Twenty
Before she knew what was happening, Malco had tackled her backward, knocking her down with such force she lost her breath. Wheezing, she got to her knees, a hand pressed to her stomach where his elbow had made contact. There had been gunshots, at least two, before Malco had pulled her back inside. More sounded, but they only made contact with the closed door and outside walls.
When she regained her breath, she saw Shane and the rest of the team running toward the entrance. And the blood on her hand.
It took a moment for her to realize it wasn’t hers.
“Malco!” Frida crawled to him as he half-sat beside her, holding his side. Pain twisted his handsome face, but if the wound was severe, she knew time was of the essence.
As she pushed his hand, she saw the blood soaking his shirt. “Don’t worry, mi corazón. The shot went through the fat.”
She arched an eyebrow, bracing herself. “What fat? There isn’t an ounce of it on you.”
And without waiting for any more of his nonsense, she pushed his hands aside to peel back the soaked cloth and reveal the wound. The blood was abundant, but from what she could see, the bullet had grazed his side, which was a small blessing.
Frida tore her top into a makeshift dressing and placed it against the wound, pressing hard. Malco cringed but didn’t say a word.
Shane came beside them. “How bad is it?”
“It grazed his side, must have been a high caliber.”
Malco’s voice was harsh. “Flesh wound.”
“A bloody one. You’ll need stitches, but I guess we were lucky.”
Shane cursed. “Lucky the shooter didn’t have better aim. Unlucky someone targeted us, it means they know who we are. That’s what concerns me the most.”
While Frida kept pressure on the wound, Shane helped Malco up just as James joined them.
“I checked the perimeter, and they’re gone.”
The three of them supported Malco as they went to the infirmary where Emme and Mercy were waiting for them inside. Once Malco was seated, Emme took over. Frida wanted to stay, but after a kiss on her temple, Malco shooed her away.
Despite the initial fright, she knew that Malco wasn’t in immediate danger, and after some stitches, he’d be okay.
Shane pulled her away, and James reappeared with a sweatshirt for her and she realized she was only wearing her bra.
It would have been so easy to crumble, but she wouldn’t allow herself the luxury. Danger had come faster than they’d expected.
“Do you know who it was? I’m guessing the Blood Razors, but I hope I’m wrong.”
Shane shook his head. “It’s difficult to know because we don’t know how
