He kissed my fingers again, then slid out of the car and left me alone. I stared down at my hand for a long time, my eyes locked on my new diamond ring, and felt a strange sense of relief that Zane hadn't taken the heirloom. I was crazy attached to the thing.
James popped the door open some time later and handed me a bottle of water with a couple of painkillers. I only hesitated a second before taking them, which probably spoke to how much pain I was really in. They made me sleepy, and I just let myself doze for a while. My lids were cracked halfway open, my gaze locked on the guys, but otherwise I was mostly asleep.
Eventually, they returned to the SUV I was in, and Archer slipped behind the wheel. Kody peeled off his sticky, blood-covered T-shirt and jeans outside the car, then crawled into the backseat with me in nothing but his boxers.
Steele was the last to rejoin us, having stayed to speak with James and Sampson a few moments longer, and he climbed into the passenger seat.
"We all good?" Archer asked him in a clipped tone. Apparently, he was still pissed off.
Steele jerked a nod. "Sampson is staying here to supervise the rest of the cleanup. Gill, Dave, and James are all heading home in front of us to run a safety check. The hit has been officially canceled, though, thanks to Kruger's thumbprint on his laptop."
Kody blew out a long breath. "Thank fuck for that."
"Yup," I agreed, my voice thick with sleep and pain meds. "Let's go home."
Archer started the car, and Kody gently lifted me into his lap before buckling the seat belt around us both. Not technically the safest thing in the event of a crash, but I doubted I could ever feel anything but safe in his arms.
The drive home took several hours. Zane had arranged a meeting point with Kruger well out of Shadow Grove, which in itself showed how he really had feared his little brother's wrath if he was caught.
I slept most of the way, my head on Kody's shoulder as he gently stroked my hair and whispered all kinds of heart-stopping promises.
When we reached the front gate, we needed to wait several minutes until the security guys gave us an all clear. Not that any of us expected more bad guys waiting in our highly secured mansion, but it didn't hurt to remain cautious.
Archer didn't bother parking in the garage, instead just stopping directly in front of the entrance, then climbing out. He popped my door open as Kody unbuckled us, then Archer carefully lifted me out into his arms.
"I can walk," I told him in a groggy voice, but he just ignored me, carrying me into the house.
Gill was waiting for us in the foyer and exchanged a few words with the boys about the house being secured, then left us alone. Archer carried me straight upstairs to my bedroom and kicked open the door to my bathroom.
He only put me down briefly, perching me on the edge of the vanity so he could turn my shower on. I was sleepy enough not to protest, just yawn and watch him strip his own bloody clothes off.
"Are you okay to stand in the shower?" he asked me with overwhelming concern as he helped me out of my T-shirt. I winced as the movement pulled on my damaged ribs but gritted my teeth.
"I'll be fine." I unclipped my bra as he worked on my jeans, and within seconds I was groaning under the hot spray of my shower.
"Just be careful not to get your head wet, Princess," Archer murmured as he adjusted the angle of the spray. "I don't know if you can get that glue wet so soon."
I just mumbled some sound of agreement and leaned against his hard body to stay upright. It was safe to say that was the worst beating I'd taken in a long time. Or... ever. Not even my car accidents had bruised me up so badly.
Then again, I hadn't been stabbed this time, so there was a small victory.
"I can't believe he fucking shot you," Archer whispered in outrage, his lips feathering over my forehead near the bullet graze.
I let out a small laugh. "I told him to do it, Sunshine, so stop being a bear about it. You know how good Steele is; there was no way he'd take that shot if he thought for even a second he might miss."
Archer just made a sound in his throat that was neither agreement nor disagreement. Regardless, he was the definition of caring as he gently washed dried blood, dirt, and grime from my battered skin. When I was clean, he hurried to rinse off himself, then bundled me up in a towel to carry me out.
"I really can walk," I told him with a laugh as he carefully deposited me into bed.
He just shrugged. "So?"
That was an argument I couldn't win, so I just let him fuss around to get me comfortable. When I was all tucked in, he fetched me more painkillers and a sleeping pill, which I happily accepted.
Before he could leave, I grabbed his hand. "Stay with me. Just until I'm asleep or something? I don't... I just need to feel you close."
Archer gave me a small frown of concern, then nodded and climbed into my bed beside me. I clenched my teeth against a grimace of pain as he got comfy, then carefully snuggled into his embrace.
"I thought you got shot for real," I confessed, my words mumbled into his chest. "I thought..." I couldn't even get the rest of those words out. It was bad enough watching Steele almost die of a shot to the chest, so when I'd seen that gun, heard a shot fired, then seen Archer collapse, my heart had stopped.
Archer knew what I meant, though. He just rubbed soothing circles on my back and kissed my hair.
"Baby girl, I'm like a cockroach. I can't be taken out so easily."
I smiled at that image, then let my eyes close as the sleeping pill worked its magic over me. Terrifying, shadowed creatures lurked in the edges of my mind, though, filling me with anxiety and holding true sleep at arm's length.
"It's not over yet, is it?" I whispered into the darkness.
Archer's chest rose and fell under my face as he heaved a sigh. "No, Princess. It's not. But it will be really soon. I promise."
38
The next two days passed in a flash, mostly due to the fact that—aside from a trip to the hospital that next morning, for x-rays on my broken ribs, and to check for facial fractures—I slept almost around the clock. I woke up for occasional meals that the guys brought to me in bed and to pee. That was about it. By the time I dragged my ass into the shower on day three, I was feeling a hell of a lot better, even if I didn't look it.
Actually, I really didn't look it. My face was a mess of purple and yellow bruising, and my ribs made me cringe just to look at. No amount of concealer was going to hide the state I was in, though, so I just tied my hair up—careful not to tug on my healing head wound—then headed downstairs to find the guys.
"Hellcat!" Steele was the first to notice me enter the kitchen. "What are you doing out of bed?"
I gave a small shrug. "I slept for the better part of three days; I got bored. And hungry. Is that pizza I smell?"
"It sure is," Anna replied, pulling a fresh one from the oven and sliding it onto her chopping board. "But girl, you look a mess. Have you put any bruise balm on that face?"
I blinked at her in confusion. "That's a thing?"
The look of utter exasperation that she gave the boys over that comment was priceless.
"Unbelievable," the cook muttered. "Just because you three think bruises make you look cool, doesn't mean you should let Madison Kate suffer. Goodness me. Wait here, sweetheart." She patted me on the shoulder and hurried out of the kitchen, leaving the fresh pizza uncut on her board.