Chapter Eighteen
T hey were still in my driveway.
I should’ve locked my door and gone to bed, but I was a glutton for punishment. Grabbing a beer, I walked out to my driveway as someone pulled up in a full-size pickup.
Ty glanced at me. “Go back inside, Merc.”
Preston looked everywhere but my eyes.
“No. My house, my rules.” I nodded at the truck. “More friends of yours joining the party?”
“Christ.” Ty’s right hand tapped his thigh as he walked to the driver door.
Preston’s gaze on the pickup, he stepped beside me. “This time, I agree with your brother.”
“Good for you.” I took a sip of the ice-cold beer as a blond guy in a cowboy hat got out of the truck.
More muscles on him than years, wearing a smile and a face that barely looked old enough to shave, the blond tipped his hat at me. “Ma’am.”
Sighing, I glanced at Preston. “Do I look that old?”
Preston’s gaze traveled from the newcomer to his truck to the street. “He’s wearing a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and driving a F250 Super Duty. Addressing you as ma’am wasn’t about your age.”
I glanced at the blond’s feet. Huh. “Working cowboy boots,” I corrected. “You missed that part.” My eyes wandered up. “And the big belt buckle. You missed that too.”
“Brown boots, stylized silver buckle with a ranch insignia,” Preston rattled off. “I missed neither.”
I took another swig of beer. “You didn’t mention them.”
Preston didn’t look at me, he turned on me. “If I had mentioned his belt buckle, you would have looked there.” Holding my gaze, he didn’t blink.
My stomach fluttered, and I took another sip of beer. Slowly. “Don’t want me looking at another man’s junk?”
He didn’t hesitate, not for even a second. “No.”
I smiled. “Good to know.”
His serious expression didn’t waver. “You already know this.”
“Do I?” I licked my lips. Because I could. And because I was no longer mad at him for telling Ty who Nash’s father was. I honestly kind of felt like a weight had been lifted.
Ty and the blond stopped talking and looked over at us.
Preston ignored them. “If I asked you to go inside, would you?”
“You’re asking me to do things now?” I half laughed. “That’d be a first.”
“Vos,” my brother called. “Get over here.”
Preston didn’t take his eyes off me, and he didn’t move. He stared.
“For the record”—I leaned close to him—“I like you better bossy.” I turned to go back to the house when a sound came from inside Preston’s SUV.
Half moan, half cry, it came again, but this time it was accompanied with a small thud like a fist making contact with a window.
All three men looked at each other.
“What the fuck was that?” I moved toward the SUV.
Preston caught my arm. “Go inside, Mercy.”
Ty and the blond rushed over, opening the back.
A woman in a bikini, covered in blood, was on her side.
“Oh my God!” I wrenched free of Preston’s hold and rushed to the SUV.
Clutching her back, the woman moaned and rasped out a single word, “Help.”
“Jesus, fuck, Vos,” Ty muttered. “She’s alive.”
Oh my fucking God. I thought he’d been full of shit when he’d said there was a body in his SUV. I thought he was trying to push me away.
Shoving my beer at Preston, I spared him an angry glance. “What the fuck did you do?”
He took my beer but he didn’t answer me.
I pulled a flannel shirt away from her waist. Gunshot wound. Right by her kidney. A black T-shirt was wrapped around her arm covering a through and through. “She needs to go to the hospital, immediately.”
The woman mumbled something inarticulate.
“She requested no hospitals,” Preston stated.
“She’s shot,” I accused.
Preston’s expression didn’t change. “Not by me.”
“Right now, I don’t care who shot her. She needs medical attention I can’t give her.”
The blond guy adjusted his cowboy hat and looked at Ty. “Not sure you need me if she’s breathing, boss.”
“Jesus, you can’t leave her like this. Ty,” I barked, holding the soiled flannel to the wound on her back. “Go get my first aid kit from inside the house. Preston, call an ambulance.”
The woman’s hand shot out. With surprising strength, she gripped my wrist as her bloodshot eyes met mine. “No. Hospitals .” She coughed then winced. “Or ambulances.”
“You could die,” I warned her.
“Call a doctor,” she rasped, gritting her teeth against the pain. “I’ll pay for it.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Jesus, I couldn’t believe I was having to explain to a woman who was shot twice that she needed to go to the damn hospital. “At a bare minimum, you need an X-ray to see where the bullet is. Probably surgery to remove it.”
Her jaw clenched. “Doctor,” she gritted out.
“Goddamn it,” I snapped, looking from Preston to my brother, neither of whom had moved. “Do something!”
Ty glanced at Preston. “Your call.”
His eyes on me, not even looking at the woman, Preston answered Ty. “Call Talon.”
My brother whipped his phone out as he glanced at the blond-haired man. “Thomas, inside the house in the cabinet next to the kitchen sink is a first aid kit. Grab it.”
“Copy that, boss.” The blond man took off toward my house.
My brother dialed, then hit the speaker button.
Two rings and a man answered. “What’s up, Trigger? Your woman miss me already?”
“You local? I need help. Two GSWs.”
Talon’s voice sobered. “I’m in town. How bad you hit?”
“Not me. Female. Early twenties. Back and arm.”
“Address?”
Ty rattled off my address.
“On my way, but I’m no surgeon, Trigger. Anythin’ serious and you’re gonna need a hospital.”
I cut in. “Her arm is a through and through, but the bullet in her back has no exit wound.”
Talon paused. “Who am I talkin’ to?”
“Mercy. I’m Ty’s sister.”
“The ER nurse?” Talon asked.
“Yeah.” I didn’t bother to ask how he knew what I did. “I’m not sure how much blood she’s lost, and there’s only so much I can do with my medical kit, but she’s insisting no hospitals.” I gave the girl a look, but her eyes were closed again.
“All right, darlin’. I’ll be there in a few. Hold her steady.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Talon hung up, and Ty tucked his phone back in his pocket. “How bad is she?”
Thomas came back with my medical kit and wordlessly set it next to her in the back of the SUV.
“Not good.” I told my brother before grabbing Thomas’s wrist. “Hold this.” Placing his hand over the shirt I was holding to her back, I let go and reached for my kit.
“Got it.” Thomas took over, applying pressure without instruction.
Opening my kit, I put on gloves, then disinfected her wounds as best as I could before throwing some sutures in the front of her arm to close the exit wound. I spoke to her the whole time I was working, letting her know what I was doing, but she was either no stranger to pain or she’d passed out again.
Preston and Ty stood as silent sentries scanning the street while I worked and Thomas assisted. As I threw the last stitch in, a black Dodge Challenger pulled up too fast and parked at the curb. A blond man who looked more like a surfer than a doctor waltzed up with a large black bag with a red medical cross on it.
He glanced at Ty, then Preston. “Trigger, Trace, never a pleasure unless a pretty lady’s involved.” He gave me a heart-stopping smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Talon Talerco. Now I know why your mama named you Mercy.”
I didn’t bite at his flirtation. “I sewed up her arm, but didn’t touch her back wound except to flush it.”
Talon’s smile dropped as he set his bag down. Grabbing gloves, he glanced at Thomas. “You the kid?”
Thomas tried to hide a scowl. “Thomas, sir. Not a kid.”
Talon chuckled without humor as he lifted the fresh dressing off the girl’s back. “Not gonna lie, kid, you look barely legal.” He inspected the wound. “Who shot her?” he asked no one in particular.
Preston gave Ty a warning look.
Ty ignored Preston and answered Talon. “Julio Estevez’s men.”
Talon paused, but only for a split second. “Estevez doesn’t let go of his girls. If one of y’all took her, only a matter of time before he comes lookin’.” He gently rolled the girl onto her stomach and felt along her back. “Patrol know ’bout this?”
Preston spoke up. “I haven’t spoken to Luna, and I didn’t take her. She was already running from his men.”
“Mm-hm.” Talon frowned as he probed her back six inches below the entrance wound. “Might want to loop in Patrol before this gets outta hand.”
“Not company business,” Preston stated.
Talon raised an eyebrow at him.
Preston elaborated. “Found her at Ultimate. She was on the run. She got shot. I interceded. After I lost her tail and got her in the SUV, she passed out and I didn’t feel a pulse. Disposal was my next step.”
“Estevez’s men get a visual on you?” Talon asked.
Preston nodded.
“Can they track you?”
“No.”
“Not for nothin’, Trace, but you sure ’bout that? Your ink alone is an identifyin’ factor, and comin’ here?”
“I’m low profile, and I would never risk Mercy.”
“All right, Trace. Trustin’ you on this one. None of us wanna be on Estevez’s radar.” Gently pushing the girl back to her side, Talon checked the stitches on her arm, then smiled at me. “Nice work, Trigger’s sister.”
I knew who my brother was, but I hated that they called him Trigger. “Ty has a name, and so do I.”
Talon grinned. “Oh darlin’, love the attitude. Now I know where Trigger gets it from.”
“Watch it,” Preston warned.
Talon’s gaze cut from me to Preston. Pulling his gloves off, his grin amped up. “Interestin’,” he drawled. “ Very interestin’ .” He slapped Preston on the shoulder. “Nice pick, Trace.” He chuckled.
“There’s nothing going on between them,” Ty clipped. “Can you fix the girl or what? We all have places to be.”
Talon crossed his muscular arms. “I can get the bullet out, patch the wound up, but beyond that and some antibiotics?” He shrugged one shoulder. “It’s anyone’s guess what’ll happen.”
The girl moaned. “Bullet, out.”
Talon spun. “Hey, darlin’. Good of you to join us.” He brushed her hair from her face, then froze. “Holy fuck.”