“Linnie,” I whispered again.
Then I watched in distracted fascination as whatever Luke heard over the phone changed his entire body. I was fascinated because I could swear Luke looked scared.
Men like Luke didn’t get scared.
I shook my head and jerked out of my daze.
“I have to get to Buzz,” I said.
“Stel a.”
I took off, walking swiftly across the yard.
As I marched, I heard Luke shout, “Mace! ” and Mace’s name came from Luke’s lips like a bark, sharp and ferocious.
I didn’t let that register, my mind was centered on Buzz.
Then gunshots rang out.
Yes.
Gunshots.
There were shouts of surprise, rapid movement and I saw the dirt around me explode as the bul ets pounded into it around my cowboy boots, one after the other after the other.
For a second I stood frozen, not comprehending this drastic turn of events. Then I felt a stinging burn in my hip and cried out but for some reason my hands went to my head and, unfortunately belatedly, I started to run for my effing life.
I ran two steps before I was picked up at the waist, shifted, thrown over Mace’s shoulder and he ran in a half crouch as the bul ets whizzed around us.
He stopped, wrenched open the backdoor to the Explorer and tossed me in. He made a quick whistling noise through his teeth and Juno jumped up with me jarring me, pain sliced through my hip and I cried out again.
Mace slammed the door almost before Juno’s hind-end cleared it. He got in the passenger seat; Luke was already in at the driver’s side. My dog and I barely settled before we rocketed from the curb.
I hadn’t even noticed Luke starting the truck; it was like he hit the ignition through a mind meld, one with the vehicle.
None of that normal turn the key and go business for Super Cool Luke.
Mace hit a button on the dash and the cab was fil ed with ringing.
Juno woofed just to be part of the action, not wanting to do much of anything just not wanting anyone to forget she was around. This was her way.
I put my hand to my hip. I felt something wet there and pul ed my hand away.
The wet on my hand was dark. Blood.
I’d been shot. Effing hel , I’d been shot.
With a bul et. An honest-to-goodness bul et.
Jesus!
“Um, Mace –” I started, trying not to sound panicky.
“This is Jack.” A voice fil ed the cab.
“One second,” Mace said to me in an undertone.
“Ava just cal ed in, said someone opened fire on her, Daisy, Al y, Indy, Tod and Stevie. They were outside a g*y club on Broadway. I lost contact with her in the middle of the cal ,” Luke informed Jack who I also knew from my days as Mace’s girlfriend. He was another Nightingale Man, built strong, tough, solid and scary.