come with you," Steele murmured, taking the dress bag from my hand as I hurried back into the store. It was standard Steele protectiveness, but in his current condition I'd be the one saving his ass if someone attacked us in the bridal store.
I was glad he did follow me, though. We’d barely made it two steps back inside the shop when an explosion rocked the ground beneath our feet. Steele threw himself at me, knocking me to the ground and covering my body with his as glass from the shattered storefront windows rained down all around us.
The whole thing was over in seconds, but my ears rang as Steele cautiously eased off me.
Several car sirens went off in the street, and I already knew what I was going to find before crawling to my knees to look.
"Fuck," I breathed, staring wide-eyed at the flaming shell of our SUV. The charred, mutilated remains of my bodyguard lay several feet away from the wreckage, and my stomach knotted up with guilt and anxiety.
"We need to get out of here," Steele told me, then grimaced as he pushed to his feet.
He offered me a hand to help me up, but I batted it aside and yanked his T-shirt up to check on his still-healing wound. It was seeping blood, like I expected, and fear travelled through me. He shouldn't be back in the middle of this already. He'd just taken a bullet to the chest two and a half weeks ago, thanks to my fucked-up life.
Steele pushed my hands away and smoothed his shirt back down. "Hellcat, I'm fine. But we need to go before someone realizes that you weren't in the car." He wrapped his hand around mine, stooped to grab my dress bag from where he'd dropped it, then led me quickly out of the shattered storefront.
We didn't hesitate even a second as we passed Wade's remains. Death was becoming all too familiar, these days, and Steele was my priority. I couldn't risk his life again so soon. I just fucking couldn't. So we hurried away from the burning car without a backward glance.
One thing was for sure, my killers were still out there. Even if my stalker had been mysteriously quiet these past few weeks, he wasn't my only problem.
Not by a long shot.
3
Kody and Archer were in the gym when we got back to the house and seemed just as shocked as I was to see Steele out of the hospital.
"Guys, give it a rest!" Steele exclaimed after they’d badgered him for a solid five minutes about the risks of early discharge. "My doctors cleared me, and I'm a grown-ass adult. I think I can make these choices myself." He glared at them both, then softened his gaze as he looked at me. "Besides, if I had to suffer through one more of those uncomfortable visits with nurses watching our every movement, I was going to lose my damn mind."
I bit my lip to hold back a smile, but I knew what he meant. We hadn't had a moment truly alone the whole time he was in hospital. There was always a nurse hovering around or a doctor needing to check notes, probably because fucking everyone in Shadow Grove seemed to be on the payroll of one gang or another. Undoubtedly, someone had seen the opportunity to listen for valuable information.
"Okay, if you're such a grown-ass adult," Kody challenged him, folding his arms over his bare chest, "explain why there's blood on your T-shirt. Huh? You couldn't even make it from the hospital to home without ripping stitches?"
Heading through to the kitchen, Steele rolled his eyes and flipped Kody off. "I got my stitches out a week ago, dickhead."
"Also, that wasn't his fault," I added, handing my dress bag to Steinwick, who’d appeared out of the dining room. The elderly butler took it silently, and I knew he'd see it safely stored in my closet.
"Why do I get the feeling you two have been causing trouble today?" Archer muttered, taking one of the beers that Steele pulled from the fridge. "And where's Wade? The security detail is supposed to check in when you get back."
Steele grimaced, then twisted the top off his own beer and took a long sip. "Wade's dead."
Kody and Archer both shifted their gazes to me, like I was somehow to blame for this mess. Okay, sure, I was in a way. But come on.
"Someone blew up the car," I told them with a wince.
Archer