Chapter 18
Austin was almost through the gates when the gunshot rang out.
He slammed the brakes, heart racing, ducking low over his steering wheel automatically. No holes in the windshield—not bulletproof—or the windows—also not bulletproof. What the hell was he thinking, not upgrading when that last car guy suggested it?
He twisted to look through the back window and balked.
Gail Dain was on his lawn with a gun. And she wasn’t even pointing it at him. She was pointing it at Dominic, who was kneeling protectively over that goddamn paparazzi on the grass.
Austin cursed and clambered out of the car.
The door scraped the gate, leaving a dent he couldn’t give a shit about.
He had to know Dominic was okay. Even if he was stringing Austin along knowing he was going to dump him, he wasn’t going to let him get gunned down in Austin’s yard by Austin’s goddamn stalker. Where the hell was Brent?
Austin ran up, hands raised. “Gail! Hey! Let’s talk about this for a moment!”
“Austin,” Dominic barked. “Get back in the car!”
Austin only looked at him long enough to determine he wasn’t hurt. Neither was Larry. The bullet had missed them, carving a hole in the dirt next to them.
“Gail,” Austin said. “Look at me.”
Gail’s lip curled. She was crying, mascara streaking her cheeks.
There was a broken heart tattoo bleeding into her shirt, which was so dramatic Austin would have laughed if he wasn’t scared shitless.
The gun was still pointed at Dominic, her furious gaze drilling into him almost as good as a bullet.
“I’m everything you need,” Gail whispered. She gestured the gun at Austin with a shaking hand. “Who the fuck is he?”
“He’s my bodyguard,” Austin said.
“Austin,” Dominic said, voice low and urgent as he knelt up, his body still angled to protect Larry. “Stop talking. Let me handle this.”
They both ignored him.
Gail lifted her chin, still staring at Dominic like she was considering where to shoot. “What does he have that I don’t? Huh?”
Austin paused while he considered how the hell to answer that crazy question.
Gail had nothing he wanted. Gail was mad, bad, and dangerous to know—everything that the public thought he was.
But they were wrong. Austin was about as dangerous as a fucking Pomeranian.
He just had a lot of tattoos and muscles and a resting bitchface.
But he knew how to play the role.
He straightened, lowering his hands. It felt crazy, but maybe he needed to match her crazy right now.
That was what she always wanted, right? He fell into his Bad Guy posture—cocky, assured, and in this case, quiet.
His character didn’t need to raise his voice to be intimidating.
His character didn’t flinch when someone pointed a gun at the person he loved.
“He’s just a distraction,” Austin said with a calmness he didn’t feel in the slightest. “From what I really wanted.”
Larry started mumbling something into the grass. It sounded like prayer. Austin wished that Dominic would shut him up, but from what Austin could see out of the corner of his eye, Dominic was too busy staring at him to do anything about Larry.
Gail licked her lips. She was wearing bright red lipstick, like always. Her Harley Quinn lipstick, she called it. Austin wondered how she felt about that recent movie where Harley broke up with Joker and went on to live her best life.
“Yeah?” Gail whispered. “What’s that?”
“You,” Austin said smoothly. “I’ve fought against it. Everyone says it’s a bad idea. But you know me. I’ve always loved bad ideas.”
Gail smiled. It was small and gone in a flash, but it was there. She finally tore her gaze away from Dominic, but the gun stayed pointed at Dominic’s chest.
“You’re not just saying that?” Gail asked. “You’re not just trying to protect him?”
“Why would I bother?” Austin grinned, his stomach curdling as he strode slowly toward her. “You’re the one I want. I’m tired of fighting it. I just wish that glass had struck home the other week. You know I love scars.”
Gail beamed. “We can make that happen.”
She reached out, touching his chest just above his shirt collar. Her hand was hot and sweaty. Austin hid a flinch, thinking of that nurse pushing stitches into Dominic’s skin, of smoothing a bandage over them in the days after.
Gail stepped closer. So close that the gun was within reach.
“Say he’s nothing,” she told him.
“He’s nothing,” Austin said automatically. Then, mostly because he was in character mode and ignoring all his preservation instincts, he reached up and stroked a thumb down Gail’s razor-sharp cheek.
“You’re what I want,” Austin said, letting his tone go soft and genuine in ways that few ever heard. “Nobody sees me like you do.”
It was true. Just not about Gail. How many times had Austin thought those very words about Dominic, who was kneeling on the lawn with a gun trained on him?
Austin squeezed Gail’s chin gently. “Give me the gun. Let me get rid of him for us.”
Larry whimpered. Dominic shushed him, and Austin let himself give him a distracted glance.
Dominic was kneeling up on the grass, ready to charge.
He was just waiting for Austin to give him a window of opportunity.
He didn’t do anything obvious, like nod.
He was too smart for that. He just watched Austin, his eyes dark and expectant.
Austin turned back to Gail, still smiling in a way that made him feel sick.
Gail beamed back at him, disbelieving and wondrous. A drop of blood ran down her chest tattoo and into her shirt. The gun lowered.
“For us,” Gail repeated.
Then she raised the gun back up and centered it on Dominic’s head.
Austin didn’t think. He just moved.
Another deafening shot rang out. Pain exploded through his lower stomach, so huge it blotted everything else out.
Gail stood frozen, her mouth open and her eyes welling. She looked like she was screaming, but Austin couldn’t hear it. His ears were ringing.
Brent, the world champion at appearing to emergencies thirty seconds late, barreled out of nowhere and tackled Gail to the ground. The gun went somewhere, but Austin didn’t see where. His world was shrinking, spots dancing at the corners of his vision.
He touched his shirt. It was soaked with blood, but at least the pain was fading. Even if that was probably because he was barreling toward unconsciousness at an alarming rate.
His knees hit the grass. But before his head could follow, a familiar pair of hands caught him.
Dominic knelt over him, his beautiful face twisted with shock. He placed his hands over Austin’s wound, pressing down so hard the pain from before flared up, agonizing and unbearable. Austin must have made a noise, because Dominic shushed him.
“—going to be okay,” came Dominic’s voice, seemingly from very far away. “Austin? Hey! Stay with me, baby.”
Austin wet his lips. They tasted like copper.
“Love you,” he mumbled. “Asshole.”
Then he closed his eyes and let the darkness pull him under.