Depends on Who's Asking - Lani Lynn Vale Page 0,59

a glare in his eyes. “I thought you couldn’t get it out?”

“I didn’t say that I couldn’t get it out,” I said. “I said that the tee wouldn’t allow me to get it out.”

I held up the sliver of wood that’d been inserted about six inches in his back. “Do you want to keep this?”

Saint took it and rotated his shoulder.

“That’s probably going to need stitches.” Booth walked up to peer at it.

I looked at my stained floor again.

“Daddy,” I said softly. “Just how much sealer did you put on my floors?”

Dad looked back at the blood. “Hopefully enough. The last fuckin’ thing I want to do is deal with those floors again.”

“We’ll get a professional cleaner in here once the crime scene techs get done,” Saint suggested as he walked toward the front door. “Come on, Caro. I need you to hold my hand while I get this looked at.”

“I’m telling you.” Booth came back in. “Stitches.”

“Fuck off,” Saint grumbled.

I squeezed his hand a little bit tighter with my own.

He returned the squeeze and didn’t stop until we were next to the ambulance.

“Hey, man,” Saint said to the medic, his eyes on the piece of wood. “This need stitches?”

The medic was standing around looking bored until Saint walked up. His hands were crossed in front of him with his foot tapping impatiently.

His eyes were hidden behind a pair of those blue light glasses that were meant to help when staring at a computer screen or whatever.

But still, there was something about the man’s eyes when he saw Saint.

The medic went all business and pulled on some gloves before making a twirling motion with his finger.

“Turn around,” the man whispered.

Saint turned around and presented the medic with his back, his eyes still on the wood.

“Gonna need to wipe it down,” still the medic was whispering.

I tensed.

I wasn’t sure why.

But the way the guy’s eyes looked as he reached into his bag had me paying attention.

I expected the man to come out of the bag with some alcohol wipes or something.

Not something black.

His eyes were on the piece of wood in his hand, so Saint didn’t see this until it was too late.

I, on the other hand, knew the instant I saw the way the man’s hand curled around the butt of the gun.

Without thinking, let alone considering what would happen if I did it, I yanked that sharpened piece of wood out of Saint’s hand.

Between one breath and the next, the medic had the gun pointed at the back of Saint’s head.

But he wasn’t as fast as me.

Within a half a second I’d buried that piece of wood in the man’s throat. It was the only soft place I could think of where it would do the most damage and stop him from blowing my man’s head apart.

The gun clattered to the floor as Saint whirled around.

“Holy fuck!” he shouted.

The medic dropped to the floor clutching the piece of wood in his neck.

“Don’t move it, motherfucker,” I snarled. “They might be able to save you if you don’t move it.”

The man’s glasses slipped and Saint tensed.

“Son of a bitch!” he hissed.

I looked over at him.

“What?” I asked.

“That’s Juris Holloway. My father’s advisor.” His eyes found mine, full of shock, as he said, “He almost executed me and I was allowing it.”

It was then that the shock started to set in.

I’d stabbed a man in the throat with a fuckin’ stake for Christ’s sake!

“I’m so sorry that I made you do that.” Saint’s arms went around me. He was shaking with fury at the breach of my safety and the fact that I’d had to do that.

But I’d do it over and over again.

A thousand times, as long as he was living at the end of the day.

Connor walked up and kicked the gun away from the man’s hand.

“Saw it all happen,” Clayton said as he walked up next. “Where the fuck is the real medic?”

“None were ever released to come to the scene,” Bennett said. “They’re on their way now.”

He was right.

Minutes later the medics were there, and they were loading the man onto the stretcher.

Dad climbed into the real ambulance with them and cuffed the man to the bar next to his head.

“Come pick me up.” He leveled Saint with a look. “I want to talk about this, too. And you need your back looked at anyway.”

He was right.

That would be exactly what we did.

The ambulance rolled away, and Foster took a look around. “Anybody else want to fuck