Chapter 7 Richard
Richard
His heart stopped and he forgot to breathe.
When Kate had stumbled and collided with him, he’d started to catch her, but then they both hit the pavement.
The sound of the bullets, the flower baskets around them, and the shop window behind them exploded the air.
Water and glass rained over them and Richard wrapped a hand around Kate’s head and tried to shield her.
People screamed, tires squealed and then another set of tires squealed. In the distance sirens cut over the din. Richard shifted. “Kate?” When she didn’t answer immediately, ice slithered through his veins and he sat, carrying her with him. “Kate?”
She swung wide eyes to look at him. Her disheveled hair spilled around her face and the shoulder of her jacket was soaked with water. “Are you hurt?”
Men in dark suits swarmed onto the sidewalk and Richard recognized them as Armand’s security force. He’d thought as much when he’d noticed the same car following them on their way into town. When he’d made Kate pull over to get flowers, it had been so he could confirm it.
“Mr. Prentiss?”
“Ms Braddock?” Five of them in all—though Richard had only seen two in the car. This close to the tower, the others had probably come down to see what the holdup was.
“I’m fine.” Tabling his rage for the time being, Richard ran his hands up and down Kate’s arms. “Are you hurt?”
“We should get off the street.” She glanced at the men surrounding them and her composure seemed to be waging a comeback.
One of the men caught her arm and helped her up.
Richard accepted the hand of another guard and then tugged her away from the suits.
Water trickled across his hand. He glanced down.
It was red.
“Kate?” His gaze went to her wet shoulder.
“I’m fine, we need to go.” Cool, collected and offering him direction. “Someone was shooting.”
“We can handle the police.” One of the suits stepped forward, but Richard ignored all of them and pushed her blazer off her shoulder. It wasn’t soaked with water at all.
Blood trickled down her arm.
A man closed the gap and between them. They got the blazer off and he held out a cloth to put pressure over the wound.
“It’s a scratch.” Cool as cucumber, Kate’s mouth tightened at the pressure.
“We need a hospital.” He looked at Armand’s team. One thing he could count on them for—they would make it happen. They complied, hustling them both into the backseat of an SUV.
“Richard—” She started to cut him off.
“Shut up.” He wasn’t playing and he wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her closer so he could keep up the pressure on her arm. “You’re going to the hospital. Understood?”
Her eyebrows rose, but she nodded once. “Understood.”
Heart hammering, adrenaline raced through him. He should have just confronted Armand at dinner rather than trying to make a point. If he hadn’t made Kate pull over, if he hadn’t tried to prove the men were following him—fury poured through him.
“I’m okay, Richard,” Kate murmured in a very soft voice and he knew it was for his benefit—the others were focused on the road.
“Shut up,” he repeated the words, but softened his harsh tone. He tucked her closer. She’d gotten shot at because she was with him. She was hurt.
An hour later he stood in the waiting area, hands in his pockets, and staring hard at the wall.
Two of the men in suits had stayed with him after he’d ordered a third one to stay with Kate.
The doctors had taken her down for an x-ray despite her continued insistence that she was fine.
When more dark suits filtered into the waiting area around him, he knew Armand had arrived.
“How is she?” It was a testament to their friendship that Armand asked about his assistant first.
“The bullet didn’t penetrate anything vital as far as they could tell, but they took her for x-rays.” It took effort to keep his tone calm when all he wanted to do was punch something.
“Good. How are you?” Concern echoed in the question.
“Trying to decide if I want to kick your ass or shake your hand and say thank you.” He read the other man’s face clearly. Armand wasn’t remotely sorry about the security despite Richard ordering him to take the detail off him. “I stopped because I spotted your guys.”
“Then they didn’t do their jobs well.” There was no apology in his voice. “Because you were shot at.”
“It could have been a drive by. Those happen in L.A.” A sad fact of urban life—not everything was a damn conspiracy.
“Except it was a single shooter. Reports said the man pulled over, got out of his car and opened fire. Descriptions vary. The police will want to talk to you and Kate to see if they can get a more accurate description.”
The problem was Richard hadn’t seen anything.
He’d been too busy looking at Kate. She’d turned him down at the house and he’d agreed to respect that decision.
It was the smart thing to do and then someone shot at him—at her.
“Why the continued detail? I thought I told you I didn’t want them around anymore. ”
“No, you said you were tired of them being under foot. So I had them pull back.” A warning note echoed in Armand’s voice. “A decision I am currently rethinking.”
“No.” Richard shook his head. “I don’t need babysitters and I don’t need an armed force walking me in and out of the places I have to go.
” Despite no one being close enough to listen, he kept his voice low, then bit off the next words on the edge of his tongue.
They weren’t friendly and Armand didn’t deserve the biting edge of his temper—even if his best friend had overstepped.
An armed cadre of men might look safety to some, but they’d do nothing but terrify others.
“I understood that, and I respected it.” Armand shook his head. “What if the next bullet isn’t astray? Do you expect me to sit by and do nothing while my enemies target you?”
“That’s a little melodramatic.” Turning away, Richard glanced down the hall. No sign of the doctors, or of Kate. He wanted to know she was all right, to just touch her one more time to be sure. “She didn’t cry.”
“What?”
“She didn’t cry,” he repeated. The fist clenching inside his gut hadn’t eased since he’d seen the blood trickling over his hand.
She didn’t make a sound or a whimper—just one swift indrawn breath when they’d begun to apply pressure to her shoulder.
Sitting poolside, she’d told him the story about the scar on her shoulder and how she didn’t cry when she’d dislocated and cut it during her fall.
I wasn’t a baby, she’d laughed, and I didn’t cry.
Tough, beautiful, composed—she didn’t have to be. But she hadn’t cried when he’d been upset and furious. Instead, she’d told him over and over she was okay, despite the fact that he snapped at her.
“Richard, I don’t want to scale back your security.
This is two attempts in a few months and the first time you were out in a public location.
The person who ran you off the road was never apprehended.
” As modulated as Armand’s tone was, as reasonable as he attempted to sound, the note of fear underscoring it all remained. His best friend was worried about him.
Richard was worried about Kate.
She went everywhere with him.
“Fine, keep your guys on me, but I still want them at a distance and I want a detail on Kate too.”
“Done.”
Curious at the easy agreement on the second part, Richard turned back to study him, but one of the security men allowing a nurse into the waiting room grabbed his attention. “Mr. Prentiss?”
He forgot about Armand. “How is she?”
“Ms Braddock is fine. She’s back in the exam room if you want to come and see her.”
He absolutely did. “I’m going to have to take a rain check for tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I can wait,” Armand offered, but Richard shook his head.
“I’ll stay here with her or get her home—I don’t suppose one of these guys can get her car?” Unless it was part of the active crime scene.
“Already done.” His friend assured him.
“Thank you—oh, and don’t think this lets you off the hook. I’m still pretty pissed.” But the statement lacked any real heat and the prince didn’t look remotely worried.
“As long as you’re alive to be angry, I’m fine with that.” And no doubt he was.
Shaking his head, Richard strode down the hall and followed the nurse. Two of his suited babysitters moved with him, but if it kept Kate safe—he could put up with his skin crawling due to the constant observation.
She was alone in the room when he entered, a white bandage bright and stark against her tanned skin. “I told you I was fine,” she began as he walked in the door.
“Shut up.” He pushed the door closed, leaving the security outside.
“You and I are going to have a very real problem if you keep that up.” Anger snapped in her eyes and his gaze focused on her mouth.
The fist in his gut eased, but he didn’t miss a beat and simply rephrased the argumentative statement. “I’m sorry, will you please be quiet?”
“No, why do you keep telling me to shut up?” Confusion threaded through her irritation and the second knot of tension in him eased.
“Because every time you start talking, I want to kiss you.” His focus lingered on her mouth and, at her abrupt silence, he let it travel up to meet her gaze. “You scared the hell out of me.”
Instead of answering, she licked her lips.
“Okay, what did the doctor say?”
She raised her eyebrows and he smiled, bracing one hand on either side of where she sat on the exam bed.
“You can answer. I’ll do my best to restrain my urge to kiss you.”
“Richard.” She tilted her head and her voice took on that coaxing note, the one she used to manage him so well in the office. “I’m fine. It’s a scratch. No bone damage, nothing a couple of stitches and a big Band-Aid couldn’t fix.”
“As soon as they discharge you, I’ll take you back to my place for a couple of days. You can rest.” He gave in to one urge and tucked some loose strands of her hair behind her ear.