Donovan’s Men (Bonded by Love #3)

Prologue

Donovan

One of the most important moments of my life was when I got shot. Just a couple of days later, my life changed again in just as profound a way.

I hadn’t seen these moments coming, and yet I couldn’t regret them either.

Saturday night’s hangover of sorts had worn off by the time I showed up on the set of our television show Monday morning.

Cole Hamilton, the vigilante in Vigilante Justice, was nicely healed from his IT band injury and ready to get back to work as the lead actor.

His co-star, Julie Reyes—better known as Justice’s nemesis Lyric—also appeared ready to get to get down to business.

“Hey, you two.” I approached the pair with a clear bottle containing my green-colored smoothie in my hand.

“Is that toxic sludge?” Cole looked dubious.

I gave them my patented mock glare, mildly offended he would say that while drinking bitter, black coffee. “How you two stay healthy drinking that shit is beyond me. This is a spinach protein shake with probiotics and—”

“I’ll have you know this isn’t shit.” Cole held up what I knew to be his standard coffee. Then he pointed to what I safely assumed was Julie’s typical sugar caffeine bomb. “That’s shit.”

She nudged him.

I snickered. I loved the banter between these two.

Their ease with each other meant that when I worked them hard, they could take it and dish it back.

As stunt coordinator for the show, I worked intimately with them, honing their fighting skills and teaching them how to give the best shot while performing some pretty neat maneuvers.

We used professional stunt doubles for the toughest stuff, but Julie and Cole insisted on doing as much as they could themselves.

Cole and I had come up through theater school together, but while I’d pivoted to stunts, he’d taken the acting track. As a tall, gorgeous man with midnight-black hair that brushed his shoulders and dark-blue eyes that smoldered, he had women—and men—fawning all over him.

Julie, while a foot shorter, held her own. Her long white-blonde hair was her signature trait while her jade-green eyes spoke of mystery and intrigue. The former gymnast cut quite a wallop in a tiny package.

After taking a sip, Cole turned to me. “Hey, and what was with kissing Michael?” Cole tried to replicate my mock glare but failed miserably. He was clearly more curious than annoyed about why I’d kissed his amour at the gala on Saturday night.

“Just a peck.” I ribbed him. “Don’t worry, I’m not poaching.

” Cole’d been busy with his girlfriend, Caressa.

Their attendance at the gala had tongues wagging in Vancouver—and around the world—if the entertainment shows were any indication.

Cole was one of the sexiest actors on the planet, and his being taken caused ripples.

I’d happily brought along the third member of their triad.

Michael was pretty new to the whole bisexual thing, as well as the ménage thing, but Cole had wanted him there to see things were on the up and up.

And not to let the man feel left out. Michael and I had gone…

well, not on a date. More as friends and supporters of Cole as well as Julie and actor Elouise Hynes.

Julie watched Cole intently. “Are you planning to come out as a threesome? You know how insane that thought is, right?”

I eagerly awaited his answer as, in my peripheral vision, I caught sight of our caterer and first aid attendant, Meggibeth, approaching us. Cole held up his cup in salute—obviously to thank her for the great coffee.

In that instant, I realized she’d pulled a gun from her pocket.

Several things happened simultaneously.

Cole dropped his coffee. The cup hit the ground, and the brown liquid spilled onto the roadway where we stood.

I dropped my spinach shake, and the bottle bounced but didn’t break.

Meggibeth pulled the trigger.

Cole managed to spin Julie away, and he landed protectively over her.

I rushed Meggibeth.

She got off another shot. And then another.

Searing pain shot through my arm, but I didn’t give a shit. I tackled her to the ground. The impact jarred her as her head hit the asphalt.

The gun skittered away harmlessly.

Larry, our big, burly security guard, was upon us in an instant.

“Hold her down.” Panic seized me. Don’t lose your cool.

He obeyed my command and got her flipped onto her stomach with her hands pinned behind her back.

She didn’t appear to offer any resistance as he held her down—whether because of the knock to her head or because she’d accomplished what she’d clearly set out to do, I wasn’t sure.

“Cole?”

Julie’s question had me gazing over. I was torn between ensuring Meggibeth was secure, seeing to my best friend, and cursing a blue streak because of my arm.

“We’ve got her.” Larry met my gaze as a second woman approached.

Tanya, one of our production assistants, hurried over. She was a damn competent woman, so that reassured. She secured the gun and kept watch over Larry.

I sprinted over to Julie as she managed to wriggle out from under Cole.

“Cole’s been shot. Oh my God, someone call an ambulance.” Julie was covered in blood and clearly near hysterics.

Has she been hit as well?

As she rolled Cole onto his back, she didn’t show any signs of injury, although shock could be a powerful thing.

Blood covered Cole’s chest, seeping into the white dress shirt he wore.

Panicking is not going to help.

Seamus, our production assistant, dropped to my side with a first aid kit. Man, the guy moved fast. He had it unzipped in seconds.

I started tearing open packets of gauze.

He took up the task, and I started pressing them to Cole’s chest. Within seconds, they were soaked, but Seamus was there to hand me more.

“Mother fucker.” Cole barely managed a whisper.

“To control the bleeding. Fuck, Hamilton, you just had to be a hero.” I wanted to throttle him, but I also couldn’t blame him for wanting to protect Julie. Had our positions been reversed and I’d been closer, I would’ve done the same thing.

Hell, if I’d reacted faster, I might’ve saved Cole from being shot at all.

That kind of thinking is not helping.

“Julie?” His eyes searched for her.

“I’m fine.” Julie knelt beside Cole and stroked his face.

“Has someone called an ambulance?” I tried to keep my panic under control. Cole needed an ambulance, a hospital, and doctors. Preferably within the next five minutes. Of course, we were several klicks away from St. Paul’s Hospital where I assumed they’d take him.

“Elouise.” Seamus continued to rip open gauze packets, and I couldn’t help noticing his Newfie accent was much stronger.

Is he as panicked as I am?

“Donovan, you’re bleeding.” Julie tried to reach for me.

I waved her off. “A scratch, literally.” In truth, it hurt like hell, but I wasn’t going to bleed to death whereas Cole might actually. So that was my focus. Fortunately, my blood mixed with the dark gray coat I wore, so the amount of blood wasn’t obvious.

Once they had Cole dealt with, I’d agree to have someone look at my arm.

I pressed harder against Cole’s chest.

He winced.

Then in the distance, I heard sirens.

“Caressa.” Cole’s whisper of his lover’s name was weak. “Michael. Take care of Caressa.”

Was he asking me to take care of both his lovers? Of both Caressa and Michael? Or was he asking me to ensure Michael took care of Caressa? That was a given.

“Let’s just focus on you. We can deal with your lovers later.”

His eyes were wide with what I assumed was panic.

“We’ll take care of them.” Julie stroked Cole’s face. “You’re going to be fine, and you’re all going to come out as a throuple, and life is going to be perfect.”

Cole’s eyes drifted shut.

“Hey, stay with me.” I pressed the gauze harder into his chest.

He didn’t stir.

Panic engulfed me.

Then suddenly, two paramedics appeared by my side.

The woman, with a short, dark-brown buzz cut and the most compassionate brown eyes I’d ever seen, nudged me aside. “You’ve done a great job. Now let us do ours.”

Julie’d risen. She grabbed my coat collar and pulled me up. Well, I agreed to be dragged up since she never could’ve done it herself. Then she pulled me over to…firefighters?

My attention was still on Cole. The paramedics were working away furiously. Clearly trying to stabilize him before racing him to the hospital.

“Donovan? My name is Ford. I’m a firefighter, but I also have medical training. Do you mind if I take a look?” He gestured to my arm.

Fucking hell, I don’t have time for this shit. “But Cole—”

“Your friend is being taken care of. You’re my responsibility now.”

Finally, I looked the man in the eyes. Stunning blue eyes. That swam. Is that him, or is that me?

“And up!” The paramedics were raising the gurney and pushing it over the bumpy asphalt to the rig.

“Donovan.” Ford, sounding rather insistent.

“Give me a minute.” My breath came in short pants, even as my arm stung.

“Sure.” A soft and gentle voice.

The ambulance pulled away, siren blaring.

Please, let him be okay.

He’s got to be okay.