Drop Dead Sexy(74)

Catcher picked it up just as Creepy Voice lunged at him. The shotgun’s blast took me off guard. It also caused Motown to momentarily quit mauling John Deere. It was then that Catcher sank to the ground, blood pouring down his leg. My mouth gaped open wide to scream, but nothing came out.

At that moment, the woods became alive with a flurry of activity. Men came running out of nowhere outfitted in black jackets with the words GBI emblazoned on the back. There were a few Gilmer County Sheriff deputies as well. The agents I’d met at Randy’s, Solano and Capshaw, knelt down beside Catcher.

A GBI Agent jogged up to me. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

I started to brush past him. “Ma’am?” he asked again.

“I’m fine. I swear.” I didn’t have time for this bullshit. I needed to get to Catcher to make sure he was all right. From what I could see over the agent’s shoulder, Catcher’s eyes were closed, and he wasn’t moving.

Once the agent let me go, I raced over to him. “Catcher?” I cried as I sank to the ground beside him.

His eyes popped open. “Hey, Liv-Bug.”

“Oh, my God, are you okay?”

“Just peachy.”

Fearing he was going into shock, I countered, “You were shot.”

“Tis but a scratch,” he teased with the line from Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

I glanced over to where Solano had ripped open Catcher’s pants leg to examine the bullet wound. Over the years, I’d seen enough shotgun wounds. I feared at close range it might be a pretty extensive wound. But at first glance, it didn’t look that bad.

Agent Solano snorted. “He’s right about the scratch thing. The bullet grazed him more than anything. He’s practically a miracle. A couple more inches, and it would have nicked his femoral artery.”

“And you would have bled out,” I said to Catcher.

When Catcher nodded almost nonchalantly, I fought the urge to smack him. Just hearing how close he had come to death sent the shakes rolling through me. I didn’t know how he was taking things so calmly.

Catcher flashed me a wicked grin. “It’s even more miraculous that a few more inches to the right, and I might’ve lost my dick.”

Clenching my fists at my side, I had to hold myself back from strangling him. “How can you think about your dick at a time like this?!”

He frowned. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to make the situation a little lighter.”

My emotional dam broke at that moment, sending tears streaming down my cheeks. “You could have died.” I sniffled. “I could have lost you.”

“But you didn’t. I’m going to be fine. A few stitches and I’ll be good as new.”

I swiped my runny nose with the back of my hand. Since I was used to dealing with dead people, I wasn’t sure how to gage the wounds of the living. “Really?”

“Well, Solano isn’t a paramedic or doctor, but I value his opinion.”

When I glanced over at Agent Solano, he grinned at me. “Yeah, he’s going to be fine.”

Those simple words had me losing it again. I buried my head in Catcher’s chest and wept unabashedly. “Babe, it’s okay. I’m okay,” Catcher murmured in my ear.

“I know. I just can’t bear to think about how I almost lost you.” I rose up to stare him in the eye. “I love you, Catcher Mains. I know we barely know each other, and it’s incredibly fast, but I know that I love you. It’s been coming on for a while, but when the Redneck Twins took us out on our death march, I knew then how much I loved you.”

With Agent Solano hanging on to my every word, I wasn’t sure what kind of reaction Catcher might have. I imagined him going all macho Han Solo and saying, “I know,” to my “I love you.” But instead, he leaned forward and brought his lips to mine. “I love you, too.”

“Awwww,” Solano said.

“Bite me,” Catcher grumbled against my lips.

The paramedics arrived then, and one began working on Catcher’s leg. I held his hand as the paramedic began to clean the wound. “Glad I got you. I’m sure my partner is having a hell of a time taking care of those dog lacerations.”

It was then that I remembered poor Motown. I rose to my feet and whistled for him. He came charging up and began to lick me. Ordinarily I was okay with that, but at the moment, he was covered in John Deere’s blood. The paramedic passed me an extra towel from his bag, and I began to wipe Motown down.

“You are such a good dog,” I cooed as I scratched his ears.

“That’s a pretty heroic pooch there to take on the bad guys,” the paramedic replied.

“Yes, he is. After he has a bath, I’m going to make sure he has a nice, juicy steak.” I glanced at Catcher and grinned. “I’ll be giving both my men some TLC tonight.”

“Lucky us,” Catcher mused.

I momentarily paused in wiping Motown down. “There’s one thing I’m wondering about.”

“Like what does Krump’s reconstructed dick look like? I’m sure we could pull his pants down before they take him away.”

I rolled my eyes at Catcher. “No. That’s not it. I was wondering how your fellow agents knew to come here.”

“When I got to the front door, I noticed it was slightly ajar—something Olive would never do considering the way she felt about leaving the door open the day we were here. I went ahead and took out my phone, so that I could press the panic button to the agency if I needed to. Once I got inside, the Redneck Twins, as you call them, ambushed me. Thankfully, I got to press the button before they had me drop my phone. Then I just tried to play it cool like there wasn’t anyone on the way.” Catcher shot Solano a look. “Of course, these f*ckers took their own sweet-ass time getting here.”