Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
I have to fix this, fix us. I can’t live without Grace, but I can't just quit working for Xander.
7
Grace
“Gracie.” A voice fills my ears, but I can’t focus on it. All I can see is blood, the sticky warmth of it coating my clothing and skin. I need to get it off. I need to rid myself of the coppery stench of death. I’m vaguely aware of us pulling up to the cottage but I can’t stop pulling at my clothing. I need it off, all of it.
“Blood. It’s everywhere...blood…” The words slip from my trembling lips easily. Luke’s face fills my vision, and I can feel his hands on my cheeks, his lips are moving but I don’t hear anything. All I see is the way he looked as he turned around and pointed his gun at me in that alleyway. His finger was on the trigger, the look in his eyes was feral, dark, cold, he didn’t look anything like the kind, gentleman he claims to be.
He looked like...like a killer.
No, he doesn’t look like it. He is a killer.
He’s a cold-blooded killer.
He leads me through the house and into the bathroom and starts peeling our clothes off while I just stand there with my whole body shaking like a leaf. I just witnessed a murder...not just a murder but a planned murder. A hit. Is that what he is? A hitman?
“I need you to calm down, baby… I’ve got a…” Pain lances over his features and for some reason that sticks out to me. I’ve got a million thoughts running through my head, but I can’t add losing him on top of it all. He might be a killer, but I don’t want him dead. I don’t want him gone from this world. I need him, even if I'm afraid of what he is.
“We need to rinse off real quick and then I need you to dig this bullet out of my skin.”
Bullet? My mouth pops open in shock. I look him over, but there is so much blood on both of us that it’s hard to tell what blood belongs to who.
“You’ve been shot,” I state the obvious.
“Yes, but it’s not deep. Let’s just rinse off and then you can fix me up, okay?”
I nod, even though I’m certain this isn’t the job for me. Luke turns on the water while I take off my underwear, and then we step under the already hot spray together.
He squirts soap in his hand and starts to clean me off. My body is still shaking, my stomach an anxious knot. I look down and see the water running red, then I lift my gaze to Luke's wound which continues to bleed. This is not helping him. I need to get that bullet out of him. I need to stop the bleeding. As if I was a trained nurse in the ER, I push all thoughts from my mind. I can lose my head later, but right now I need to help him.
I quickly take some soap and clean around his wound very gently before rinsing both of us off. I make him get out, drying him as best as I can before guiding him to the bed where I force him to lie down. He groans, and bare’s his teeth, exhaling a ragged breath with the movement.
Quickly I slip into one of his shirts and a pair of boxers that I find in the dresser.
“Where is the first aid kit?”
“Under the sink in the bathroom,” he grunts, droplets or water clinging to his still damp skin. He looks gorgeous as always, minus the permanent look of anguish on his face.
I go back into the bathroom for the first aid kit, which turns out to be more like a doctor's bag with half a pharmacy inside it. I read the labels on the items, pulling numerous things from the bag that I think we might need.
“I’m guessing the morphine in here is for something like this? Do you want me to give you some?”
He shakes his head. “No, I’ll be fine. The sooner you get it out the less pain I’ll be in.”
Before I start, I pull the blanket over Luke’s bottom half. I don’t think I can concentrate on pulling a bullet out with his dick staring at me.
“Does my nakedness bother you, Gracie?” Even with a bullet wound he's still bantering. At least he's upbeat while I'm terrified that I'm going to hurt him…or worse.
“It’s distracting,” I mumble, looking at the wound while trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to do this.
“Just use your fingers to get it out,” Luke says, as if he knows what I'm thinking.
“Won't that hurt more?” I cringe at the thought of digging my fingers into his flesh. Bile rises in my throat and I think I might throw up.