People ran out of the Norcross office. There was more gunfire, then the sound of a car speeding away.
Dad. Oh, God. “My dad.”
“Stay down until it’s safe,” Vander growled.
“Clear.” Rhys’ voice.
Vander leaped off her and pulled her to her feet. “Ace, stay with her.”
Ace wrapped an arm around her waist. Frantically, she peered ahead. Her father was sprawled on the pavement.
“Dad.” She pushed against Ace’s arm, but he was strong and held her in place.
“Just wait, querida.”
Vander and Rhys knelt by her father. Then Rhys rose, cell phone pressed to his ear.
“Ace.” Her voice trembled.
“Hold on.”
She bit her lip, tears burning her eyes. Then, with a rough jolt, she broke free and ran.
Ace’s Portuguese curses echoed behind her.
Vander saw her coming and intercepted her. He caught her against his hard body.
“Vander.” She met his dark gaze. “Let me help him.”
Vander stared at her for a beat, then nodded.
They crouched beside her father. Together, they rolled him over, and bile rose in her throat. There was so much blood.
“Put pressure on his wounds,” Vander ordered.
Vander pulled her dad’s jacket off. She wadded it up and pressed it over the horrible wounds in his chest.
Harlow fought back tears. His blood was warm on her hands. “Hang on, Dad. It’s going to be okay.”
“Ambulance is on the way,” Rhys said.
Vander touched Harlow’s arm. “We’re going to get him to the hospital, Harlow.”
She nodded. “He’s going to be okay, right?”
Vander’s mouth flattened, and a sob caught in her throat.
“I’ll call Easton,” Vander said quietly. “Tell him to meet us at Saint Francis.”
She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Then Vander gripped the back of her neck and squeezed.
She sniffed, holding on by a thread. She couldn’t lose it.
“Damn glad my brother found a woman with beauty, smarts, and strength,” Vander said.
She bit her lip and nodded.
It wasn’t long before she heard the wail of sirens. She kept the pressure on, and then heard the paramedics talking to Vander, and the rattle of a gurney.
“Move back, Harlow,” Vander said.
She swallowed. “I can’t.” She felt frozen, ice sliding through her veins. She was worried that if she let go, she’d lose her dad.
Vander gripped her shoulders. “Let go, babe. Let them help him.”
She lifted her hands off her father. The paramedics moved in, working fast, and Vander pulled her against his chest.
“I don’t want to fall apart,” she said.
“Then just hold on.”
“I’ll get blood on your shirt.”
“Won’t be the first time I’ve had blood on me.” He stroked a hand down her back. “Come on. Let’s get to the hospital.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Easton stormed through the doors of the hospital waiting room. He spotted Rhys in a chair, hands dangling between his legs.
“Rhys.”
His brother looked up. “Carlson’s in surgery. Took two bullets to the chest.”
Fuck. “Harlow?”
Rhys nodded his head toward the door. Easton covered the ground quickly and shoved it open.
Vander leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. Harlow was at a sink, scrubbing her hands.
They were covered in blood. Her gray sweater was streaked with it.
Easton’s internal organs tried to rearrange themselves. He already knew it wasn’t hers, but the sight of her like this was something he didn’t like. At all.
Vander pushed away from the wall, squeezed Easton’s shoulder, then left.
“Harlow.”
Her head whipped up, meeting his gaze in the mirror above the sink. Her eyes were wide, her face pale.
He wrapped his arms around her from behind.
She leaned into him and made a hiccupping sound. “Easton, there was so much blood.”
“He’s in surgery, baby. He’s fighting.”
“I can’t get the blood off.”
“Here.” He moved to the side and slid her hands under the water again. Soon, the water washed clear.
He pulled her sweater off, leaving her in a pretty, silver-gray bra. He grabbed a cloth off a stack of them beside the sink, and wiped away any remaining streaks of blood off her skin.
Her wounded eyes met his. “Thank you.”
“I’m here, Harlow. Lean all you want.”
Her chest hitched. “I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll fall apart.”
“So, fall apart. I’ll catch the pieces.”
She bit her lip, her voice a whisper. “I’m really afraid that I’ll do that, and then you’ll disappear.”
He pulled her to him, holding her hard, and pressed his cheek to her hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She gripped him. “I’m so afraid he’ll die. I’ve been so mad at him…”
“You’ve got to have hope, baby. And he knows you love him.”
Easton felt fresh tears soak his shirt. He stroked her back until he felt her drag in a shaky breath.
“Here.” He lifted the sweater he’d brought with him.
“My spare sweater I keep at work.”
“Vander warned me you might need it.”
She pulled on the pink, scoop-neck sweater. “Thank you.”
He took her hand and pulled her into the waiting room. Rhys was sprawled in a different chair. Vander was standing by the window.
“Any news?” Harlow asked.
Vander shook his head.
Easton towed Harlow to a chair. She clutched his hand like a lifeline.
The doors opened and Saxon strode in, his suit jacket flaring. He lifted his chin.
Vander strode to meet him. “You meet with Pierce?”
Saxon nodded. “But we were too late. It was Pierce’s people who shot Carlson.”
She squeezed Easton’s fingers.
“It’s done now,” Saxon said. “Pierce said her quarrel with Carlson is done. As long as she has no trouble with Norcross, she’s happy to get her seventy grand whenever Carlson can pay.”
“One down, one to go,” Vander said.
“Antoine,” Harlow whispered.
Easton scowled. They still had to come to some sort of agreement with Armand. And even if he had cut Hugo loose, the man had gone underground and was likely still carrying a grudge. Easton was worried about what the man might do.
“Gia’s bringing Scarlett over,” Saxon said.
Moments later, the doors flung open and Scarlett raced in, Gia a step behind her. Ace trailed the women.
“Harlow!” Scarlett made a beeline for her sister.
Harlow leaped up, and the sisters engulfed each other and started crying.
Gia moved to Saxon and pressed a kiss to his lips. Then her gaze met Easton’s. “Any word?”
“He’s in surgery.”
Gia nodded. “I’ll get everyone some bad coffee.”
An hour later, Easton could see that Harlow and Scarlett were barely holding it together. There was still no update on Charles Carlson. When the waiting room door opened again, he glanced up to see Rome holding it open. A slender blonde entered.