Cold & Deadly (Cold Justice: Crossfire #1)(111)

“I—”

“I quit the Bureau by the way. Of course, you ran out so fast I didn’t get to impress you with my dramatic exit.”

“Don’t quit the job you love for me,” she said tiredly.

There was blood all over his white shirt. Exactly like the day Calvin Mortimer had died.

“It wasn’t for you.” He looked into her eyes. “It was for us.”

She reached up with her good hand and touched his face. “I’m sorry I was such a terrible bodyguard.”

“You thought I was mad with you, but I was trying to control my temper and not lash out.”

“You better teach me your technique.”

“I’ve had years of training as a negotiator, Ava, and I still had to work hard not to punch the guy in the face.”

“Getting arrested wouldn’t have helped anyone.” She smiled but then her lips trembled and the smile fell off her face. “Suzanna planned this for a long time. She almost succeeded.”

Dominic’s stomach churned. “I can’t believe I slept with her.”

“You didn’t.”

“What?”

“She said you couldn’t get it up.”

“Thank god.” He narrowed his eyes as realization struck. “The bitch drugged me. No wonder I couldn’t remember anything about that night. I felt like shit all year, and it was all part of her plan to make me suffer.”

Ava’s head started to bob against his chest.

Dominic spotted a bare-chested Parker up ahead holding his SIG.

“Bernier is dead,” Dominic shouted.

Dominic walked around a huge fallen tree and saw Mallory Rooney cradling a newborn against her chest, covered by what must have been Parker’s shirt.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Mallory said firmly. “We’re fine. Is Ava?”

Dominic looked down and realized she’d closed her eyes. He gave her a nudge, but she didn’t stir.

“She’s been shot,” Mallory said.

“I put a tourniquet on it.” But Mallory wasn’t pointing to her arm. He eased Ava away from him and realized there was a bullet wound on her hip, and she was bleeding steadily all over him.

Panic raced through him. He hadn’t realized she’d been shot twice and didn’t think she had, either.

“Alex. Call a medivac—”

“It’ll be faster if I drive.” Alex took the baby gently in one arm and eased Mallory to her feet with the other. Then he handed the baby back. “Can you manage Ava alone?” he asked, putting a supporting arm around Mallory.

Dominic nodded. He couldn’t speak. He turned and jogged back to the road. “Don’t fucking die on me now, Ava.”

He’d barely survived his mother’s death. He’d never survive Ava’s.

“I can’t drive too fast because of the baby, and I don’t have a car seat.” Alex grabbed a medical kit out of the Audi’s trunk. “There’s Quikclot in there and bandages. Press down as hard as you can. We’re fifteen minutes from a hospital. Twenty from a trauma center. Stop the bleeding, and we can keep her alive.”

They maneuvered Ava onto the backseat of what had been Suzanna’s car, him on his knees beside her, applying the white powder to the two bullet wounds and checking for more.

Alex got behind the wheel. Mallory climbed into the front passenger seat with her precious cargo.

“I’ll call the cops for an escort and to warn the hospital.” Mallory buckled up as fast as she was able, kissing the bundle she held to her breast.

Alex executed a quick three-point turn. “We’ll probably pass SWAT on the way.”

“I’ll call them too with an update,” Mallory assured them.

Ava was ghostly white, her lips drained of color, chest barely rising up and down.

“Drive as fast as you can safely go,” Dominic begged. He didn’t want anything to happen to the baby and knew Ava wouldn’t either. “But please hurry.”





Chapter Thirty-Seven





Ava woke to a burning pain in her side and an arm that felt as if it had been sawn off at the shoulder.

She stretched her eyelids apart and waited for her vision to settle. Her mother sat on a chair, asleep. That was unexpected. Dominic sat in the opposite corner.

“Hey, what does anyone have to do around here to get a drink of water?” Her voice sounded like a forty-a-day smoker.

Dominic bolted upright, and her mother sprang to her feet.

“You’re awake.” He grabbed her good hand.

“What happened?”

“You were shot.” Her mother said it harshly.

“I didn’t think it was that serious.” She eyed the bandage on her arm. At least the limb was still attached.

“You were shot twice.” Dominic kissed her knuckles. “One bullet hit you in the side of the hip but didn’t exit. The surgeon dug it out of your thigh.”

Ava grunted. “She shot me in the butt?” Suzanna was a better aim than she’d given the psychopath credit for. “What’s the prognosis?”

“Terminal.” Her mother hovered over her, clearly upset. “So, you’re coming home with me to live out your last days.”