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Seconds to Live(96)

By:Melinda Leigh


“But he never taught us unconditional love.” Grant put a hand on Mac’s shoulder. “That’s what raising Carson and Faith has taught me. You love your family without judging them for their faults.”

And Mac realized that Grant was right. The only person Mac judged was himself. He would do anything for his Carson and Faith. Nothing they could ever do could diminish his love for them.

Footsteps in the hall approached. Stella appeared in the doorway. Rusty red-brown stains streaked her white blouse and black slacks. Dried blood spotted her face and crusted in her hair. Mac jumped to his feet, fear sprinting through him.

He crossed the room in two steps. His eyes traveled over her body, looking for injury. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head. Her face was too white and her eyes too dark. “I don’t think so. How’s Brody?”

Think?

He steered her to a seat. “The doctor was just in. Brody’s going to be fine.”

“Thank God.” Relief seemed to weaken her. She rested her head against the back of the chair.

“How about letting the ER docs have a look at you?” Mac didn’t like the shiver that passed through her body or the stunned look in her eyes.

She shook her head. “I want a hot shower.”

Grant nudged him. “Why don’t you take Stella home? I’ll stay here with Hannah.”

“Are you sure?” Mac asked.

“Go.” Hannah nodded. An exhausted smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “She needs you.”

Did she? Mac turned back to Stella. She looked totally beaten. She definitely needed someone.

Her eyes opened and locked on his. “I’ll be all right if you need to be with your family.”

There was no way he was letting her drive home alone, covered in her partner’s blood. He didn’t want anyone else to comfort her. He wanted her to need him, for the bone-deep connection between them to go both ways.

He stood and tugged Stella to her feet. In the hallway, he turned her to face him. Cupping her face in both hands, he kissed her on the mouth. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“That makes two of us,” she said. “Did you think I wouldn’t hear about the incident in the alley near Gianna’s apartment?”

“It was nothing.”

“It was two armed men trying to kill you.” The no bullshit expression in her eyes demanded the truth.

“Freddie has put a bounty on me.” He kissed her again. “I’m going to deal with it.”

“How?”

“I’ve already called the local DEA office.” Wrapping an arm around her waist, he steered her toward the elevator. “All I have to do is stay alive until they raid the compound.”

“Is that all?”

The door opened and they stepped in.

Stella turned to face him. “You are not expendable.”

“OK.”

“I mean it, Mac.” She splayed a hand in the center of his chest. “I care about you. You have to promise me to use the same caution that you expect from me.”

She cared about him.

“All right. I promise.”

The tension left her body in one exhalation. “No more skulking around dark alleys alone?”

“No.”

The doors opened. She leaned on his shoulder as they walked arm in arm to the exit. Despite her clear exhaustion, her pallor, her distress, he absorbed strength from her embrace.

Outside, they walked to her vehicle. Mac took her keys and then drove out of the parking lot. “Do you want to go home?”

Stella held her hands out and looked down at her clothes as if just realizing she was covered in dried blood. “Not like this. I’ll scare the kids. Where’s your bike?”

“I came with Grant.” Mac drove to his cabin, where he took her into the bedroom. Piling clean towels next to the sink, he began undressing her with efficiency. No pausing to enjoy the show this time. He wanted to inspect every inch of her skin for wounds. Adrenaline was almost as good as lidocaine for numbing injuries.

She stared at the opposite wall, her eyes vacant as he peeled off her blouse. Red patches blooming on her skin would probably be bruises tomorrow. But no bullet holes. Unzipping her slacks, he slid them down her legs. A trickle of red ran from her ankle into her shoe. “You’re bleeding.”

“I didn’t feel that.” Her brow knitted.

Mac knelt to inspect her foot. An inch long splinter of wood was embedded in the soft skin just above her ankle. “This is going to hurt if I pull it out. Do you want me to run you back to the hospital?”

“No. Just do it.”

“You’d better sit down.” Guiding her to the edge of the tub, he reached under the sink for his first aid kit. The wound was shallow but it was going to bleed when he removed the chunk of wood. He guided her foot over the edge of the tub and put on the surgical gloves from the kit. “Are you sure?”