Open Wounds (Harbour Bay #2)(59)

Rule number one: Never drop your weapon.

His lungs were robbed of breath, the force of the blow sending him backwards onto a broken mirror before his back slammed against the rotting timber floor. He heard it creak under his weight as a white-hot pain shot through his palm.

Glancing down, he cursed as he saw the long jagged line on the palm of his hand and the blood dripping from the wound. He fired his weapon at the retreating man, who upon disabling him, hadn’t waited around and took off through the decomposing door that dangled precariously on its hinges.

He cursed loudly. Amelia appeared in the doorway, her weapon at the ready. The three victims drew her gaze first, her expression darkening before turning to his hand.

“I’m fine,” he told her. “He went that way.” He pointed in the general direction.

“Go get yourself checked, Darryl, you’re bleeding all over the place.” And with that, she was gone, through the door their assailant had used. He cursed himself again for being taken off guard.

He stood, feeling a few other, smaller cuts on his body and the start of some fresh bruises. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could get Kellie to tend to him.

Unlikely. He had no idea where they currently stood.

He exited the apartment building slowly and made his way toward the Commodore. Kellie was beside him suddenly, surprising him. She must’ve sensed something was wrong the moment he emerged into the harsh light of day. He blinked as he took in the commotion. The LAC’s forensic team were busily combing over the CRV and he nodded at them.

“You’re hurt,” Kellie said.

“Want to kiss it better?”

Had he seriously just said that?

He must be in worse shape than he’d thought.

Instead of kissing him, she punched him on his shoulder, hard, and his arm went dead. “Ow.”

He leaned into her as she took his hand and felt a little lightheaded as she examined his palm. She stared at him with serious blue eyes brimming with worry. Her concern warmed him. Maybe there was hope for them, after all.

“It’s deep. I need to get you to the ER,” Kellie said, immediately patting him down for his keys.

“Jesus, Kellie,” he groaned as she incited him into a much more painful state.

“You’re such a guy, Darryl. All you can think of is sex,” she admonished as she retrieved the keys from his front pocket. He squeezed his eyes shut as her hand moved against him.

Just great. He was about to be taken to the hospital with a raging hard-on. Talk about uncomfortable.

She led him toward the passenger seat and helped him in as if he were a child. He liked this nurturing side of her.

Then she climbed in next to him and started the car. He ran his uninjured hand up and down her arm. He felt her shiver, then gave him a hard, quelling look.

“I heard some shots. No one else was hurt, were they?”

He shook his head as he awkwardly clipped the seatbelt around him. “Only the kids who shot up the LAC. It appears Coleani sent in a cleaner.”

Kellie cursed bluntly, shocking Darryl with vocabulary a sailor could be proud of. The woman had quite the mouth. She peeled out of the parking spot before he could comment and into main traffic. Five minutes later they arrived at the hospital.





Chapter 29



Amelia moved covertly through the maze of broken glass, half rotten walls and the most God-awful stench. It reminded her of home. She would always associate places like this to the tenement Kellie had lived in, and the small caravan she had occupied with her grandparents.

She didn’t believe in forgetting where she came from. Her past made her into the woman she was today, and Amelia liked that woman. She was strong, independent, smart, tough, and even though she didn’t want to admit it, soft in places. It wasn’t as bad as she’d originally believed. She was still a woman. But she was also a cop, and sometimes the two didn’t go together and she had to make sure that only one side of her showed at a time.

Amelia rounded the corner. A series of running footsteps thudded up ahead. She didn’t follow them, but instead surveyed her location. It would be dangerous to chase him when he could easily turn around and wait for her, leading her into slaughter. Amelia didn’t plan on going out that way, or that easily.

She took the next right and then another, making her way through the building, rapidly picking up speed. If she had calculated correctly, she would locate him soon. A shadow appeared in her peripheral vision and she nodded to Matthews as he joined her. Together they listened to the loudly approaching footsteps.

Dean made a series of hand signals and she nodded in agreement. He moved silently away, down a small hallway and out of sight.

Amelia held her position. She didn’t have to wait long.

Harsh breathing told her that her mark was almost upon her and she readied herself for the confrontation. A second later a savage curse filled the room as the man skidded to a stop. Dean slipped around behind him and blocked his exit.

Cornered, the man did the only thing he could do. He raised his weapon. He never got a chance to squeeze the trigger.

***

Kellie paced back and forth in front of Darryl, every so often sparing him a glance. He was pale and his forehead held a light sheen of perspiration. The towel the admissions nurse had given them in effort to slow the bleeding had soaked through, and she was beginning to worry.