Chapter 3
Chapter
Three
Connal’s shoulder burned like fire, and he could feel the blood dripping down his arm and sliding over the handlebar of his bike. He felt like that whole set-up had been a trap to get to Race, which he hated with a fiery burning passion that matched the burning in his arm.
Should he go back to the hotel? Would he be better off trying to draw away anyone tailing them?
Where are you? Do you need me? I know you’re hurt. I have a field first aid kit.
I’m on the road. Are you and the bunny safe? I don’t want to bring anyone to you.
We’re solid. Come here. I need to see you.
Okay. I’m on my way. He would take a longer route, but he was losing blood and starting to get a little lightheaded.
Hold it together, Bear! I will kick your ass.
I’m doing my best. He had to stop talking then, singing to himself so he could keep upright, eyes on the road. The bike was unfamiliar to him, and the entire world swam, so he fought to stay straight up and down.
When he pulled into the hotel, he staggered off the bike, barely keeping it from crashing to the ground. He blinked, trying to remember what room.
A strong shoulder propped him up. “Come on, Bear. Move it.”
Race? He couldn’t make his mouth move, and he felt very, very muzzy-headed.
“Yes. Walk. Now. I can help, but you need to get in.”
“In.” In, in, in. He could do it. Connal had to work hard to keep his feet from tangling up, but he did it, his body sagging a little more with each step.
“In, mate. I have you. Don’t stress. I’ll fix it.”
His brain thought there was something important there, but it wasn’t getting enough oxygen, so he couldn’t figure out what it was. “I think I may be bleeding a little.”
“You think? Good deal.”
“You’re so mean to me,” Connal teased. Well, he thought he was teasing. “I don’t feel great.”
“No. You’ve been shot. If we have to, we’ll call your brothers to pick us up.”
That was the last thing they needed. Warrick nagged about things like blood loss.
“We can do this. I heal fast. Just get me inside.” Connal hated being the fuck-up his brothers thought he was.
“I’m trying! You’re a big guy. Hot, but large.”
“I’m hot, huh?” He would focus on that and on one foot in front of the other. There was no one in the room when he got there, and he squinted at Race. “Where’s the bunny?”
“Adjoining room. He can hop over here if he needs to, and I told him how to sound the alarm.”
“Is he okay?”
Race nodded. “Scared, hungry, wigged out, but okay. You, on the other hand…”
“I’ll be fine.” Of course, the world was fading in and out, and he was wavering on his feet, so he might be wrong about that. Like a tad.
“Mmhmm. Bed. Now.” Race pushed him down and started stripping him.
It was less hot than one would expect, which was a shame, because this was what he’d been working at for months.
“Yep, totally shot. It looks like a through and through, though, which is nice, and it doesn’t look like…
I mean, it’s a shoulder, sure, but there are no organs there.
” Race kept talking, which was kind of irritating but kind of wonderful, so he just sort of went with it.
“Okay, I’m gonna field dress this. This is gonna hurt, but it’ll stop the bleeding until we can figure out what to do. ”
“Don’t call my brothers.” It was important. He didn’t need them interfering in his seduction plan.
He was half-naked after all.
“I’m going to end up calling your brothers. I need someone to get the bikes home, somebody with a trailer and an SUV so I can get you and Mr. Hoppy in a closed vehicle. This is why I usually work alone.”
Con would have clapped back, except that all of a sudden everything in his shoulder went white hot, and he ended up growling.
Race didn’t seem to be too terribly worried, of course.
Why would he? If Con was going to bite, it would only be in a sexy times way.
He hoped. If Race didn’t stop leaning on his shoulder…
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Stopping the bleeding. Then I can irrigate it.”
“That doesn’t sound fun.”
“No. It’s going to feel less fun than it sounds, if I’m honest.” Race was altogether too forthright for his comfort.
“Yeah, let’s just get this over with.” He willed his body to stop bleeding.
“I’m trying, honey. Breathe, please. You’ve got this.”
He wasn’t so sure about that.
And when Race peeled back the dressing and squirted what had to be napalm in his wound, Con was glad he was lying on the bed.
Because he roared, and then the world went dark.