“Who?” I asked.
Mace turned around to look at me as Luke parked and I got the gut kick feeling that he forgot I was there.
“You okay?” he asked belatedly but not, I noticed, answering my question.
No, I’ve been shot which could be the definition of “not okay”, my brain replied sarcastical y.
“Hunky dory,” my mouth said.
Luke had turned off the truck and was now twisted to look at me too. He heard my reply and I saw his half-grin. I grinned back.
“Out,” Mace snapped, sounding for some reason impatient and jerked open his door.
I opened my door too. Juno trundled over me and hopped down. I gritted my teeth against the pain and hopped down behind her. It took a lot but I walked normal y and, to hide it, kept my bloody hand pressed against my bel y like a pregnant woman.
Luke had forged ahead probably keen to get to Ava.
Mace walked at my right side, opposite the wounded left side. He walked beside me but he put distance between us.
When we’d been together he didn’t like distance anytime, anywhere. Mace was not a man who shied away from public displays of affection. He walked with his thumb hooked in the side belt loop of my jeans so I was plastered against him. In restaurant booths he sat next to me not opposite me. He lounged in front of the TV with my head or feet in his lap or me pressed against his side. In bed, he was a spooner, the front of his long, hard body curved and pressed into the length of the back of mine. When we kissed, standing up, sitting down, lying in bed, he sought maximum physical contact. He didn’t seek it, he demanded it. It was another one of the seven hundred and twenty-five thousand things about Mace that I missed the most.
Juno loped beside us, alternately trotting and sniffing the ground.
After we crossed the little stone bridge over the moat and Mace caught the door Luke was holding open for us, I said, “I’l cal Floyd to come get me.”
Luke was again moving ahead. Mace fel back in step beside me. I was staring in awe at my surroundings. A long, stone-wal ed hal , a bright red carpet runner punctuated by shiny brass rods holding it down, crossed swords, wrought iron torches with electrical lights in and ful suits of armor decorating it down either side. It was unbelievable. It was indescribable. It was like I stepped into a different world.
“You need to wait until we debrief. Then I’l tel you what you can do,” Mace replied.
I lost my awe, I forgot about the pain in my hip and my head turned to Mace. I was pretty certain I was pissed off again.
“What did you just say?” I asked.
“You heard me,” he answered but didn’t look at me.
Either in an attempt not to argue or because he was raring to debrief, whatever the hel that meant, he forged ahead too, his long legs taking him wel ahead of me. I scrambled to catch up.
He, and then I, entered a big room with a beamed cathedral ceiling, a massive fireplace and loads of studded leather furniture. There were banners dangling from the stone wal s with multiple rows of olde worlde lions and fleur-de-lis depicted on them. I lost my anger at Mace because I regained my awe.
I stared. It was the kind of room where you stared. You couldn’t do anything else.
“Holy shit! Stel a! What are you doing here?” That was Indy.
I looked at her and saw the room already held a number of people. Luke and Mace, of course. Also Indy, her neighbors Tod and Stevie (a g*y couple I knew from meeting them at Indy’s many parties which I attended back in the days pre-Mace), Ava, Daisy (a new-ish addition to the club, I’d met her too, she looked just like Dol y Parton, but a younger version and yes, she even had the enormous hooters) and Al y. They were al standing and they al turned to me.
“What’s on your leg?” Al y asked, her eyes on my leg.
Effing hel , how could I forget about my hip?
“Is that… blood?” Tod’s eyes were huge and his hand went to his chest.
“She’s been shot!” Daisy screeched.
My eyes flew to Mace. He was standing several feet in front of me, his back to me and, at Daisy’s words, his head whipped around.
“It’s nothing,” I told them, backing away.
Mace had turned and he was bearing down, gaining ground and I kept edging backward. I ran into something and turned to see a man wearing glasses, tal , dark hair, some gray and his hands settled on my shoulders, ending my retreat. I looked into his blue eyes, they were kind but I also got the impression that he wasn’t going to let me go anywhere.