Just Bob (Assassins Inc. #1)(16)

He rolled his eyes when he saw me. “Bob, this is Stryker.”

I lifted an eyebrow. “Another assassin?”

“Yeah.”

“Geez.” I slowly lowered the hammer. “Just how many of you are there?”

“A lot.”

“Peachy.” This was not news I wanted to hear. “Maybe I need to get those guns from my father.”

“I’ll protect you, baby,” Shade said.

“How?” I asked as I glanced down at him. “You’re bleeding all over my floor.”

Shade chuckled as he pushed to his feet. Standing, the man seemed formidable. I knew he had been shot, but maybe I needed to reassess what that meant for a shifter. Even injured, Shade looked as if he could take on the world.

I stumbled forward when Shade wrapped a hand around the nape of my neck and pulled me to him. It wasn’t that I minded being pressed up close to the guy, because I didn’t. I just didn’t want to cause more pain for the man.

Some of the tension faded from my muscles when Shade’s lips pressed to my forehead. It wasn’t as good as getting a kiss on the lips, but I’d take it.

“I’m going to be fine, babe,” Shade said quietly, as if speaking only to me. “My wound should be mostly gone by morning.”

“Mostly?” I asked as I glanced up at him.

“Well.” Shade’s grin was mischievous. “I’d say I was only human, but…”

I nodded my understanding. “You’re not human.”

“No, baby, I’m not, and that means I can still protect you, gunshot wound or not.”

I narrowed my eyes as I swung around to glare at the stranger standing by Stone. All of the pieces had suddenly come together in a crash. I curled my upper lip back as I growled, raising the hammer in the air.

“No, Bob!” Shade snatched the hammer out of my hand before I could hit Stryker with it. “We don’t hit man-eating shifters with hammers.”

I rolled my eyes.

My gesture seemed to amuse Stryker. He chuckled.

I glared harder.

“You shot Shade.”

“I was aiming for you,” the man countered.

I knew before he was even done speaking that he had just started a fire he wasn’t going to be able to put out. I quickly swung around and pressed myself back against Shade as I went for his arms.

Shade’s deep growl should have scared me to death.

It didn’t.

I actually found it arousing, and that might have been a tad bit weird. Still, I couldn’t help it. It was probably the sexiest sound I had ever heard.

“If I can’t hurt him,” I reasoned, “you can’t either.”

“Watch me.”

“Oh, come on, Shade,” Stryker said. “There’s a three million dollar price on his head.”

“Three million?” I asked as I glanced over my shoulder. “The price has gone up again.”

“Fantastic,” Shade grumbled. “By nightfall, every idiot with a gun will be aiming for you.”

“So, we need to figure out who is after me and then we can ask them to stop.” That solution seemed reasonable to me so I couldn’t understand the strange look every man in the room gave me. “What?”

“Baby,” Shade began, “if I find out who is after you, they are either going to spend the rest of eternity behind bars or six feet under, and I know which one I’d prefer.”

I frowned. I knew shifters were supposed to be bloodthirsty, but that had been a bit blunt. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. Yes, I shot and owned guns…at a sanctioned gun range. I didn’t go out and just start shooting willy-nilly, not caring who I hurt.

I enjoyed the sport and the concentration it took to become a good shot. I did not enjoy the violence that seemed attached to guns so often.

It was the same reason I didn’t like driving and drinking. I didn’t mind the occasional drink and I loved driving. I never did the two at the very same time.

That was really crazy.

This might be crazier.

I needed a few minutes alone to digest everything that was happening and figure out how I felt about it. Some things—like my desire to be with Shade—were a no brainer. Others—like the knowledge that someone truly wanted me dead—seemed to be harder to accept.

I just didn’t know what to think.

“I’m going to go clean my kitchen.” I needed something to keep me busy so I didn’t fall apart.

“No, Bob,” Shade said quickly. “It’s not safe.”

I sighed. “Fine, you go clean my kitchen. I’m going to my room.”

“Bob—”

I narrowed my eyes.

Shade actually gulped, almost as if he could read my expression and knew he needed to watch his words. “Just be careful, okay.”

I nodded, as much for myself as for Shade.

Being careful was going to be something I did a lot from now on. I would start with trying to carefully go through every client of Bixby and Kent I had ever dealt with until I figured out who had ordered me killed.

And then I’d turn them over to Shade.

Well, maybe.

Knowing what Shade did for a living didn’t sit well with me, but I wasn’t sure how to get around it. Taking out the bad guys was one thing, but how many people like me—people who were innocent—had he taken out?