little.”
She thought about it for a few more seconds and then flipped her gun handle out and Diego scooped it up. He released the clip and threw it into the bay, followed by the gun in a different direction.
“Hey!” she yelled.
“We don’t need guns on our island.” Diego grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. “Let’s go.” He turned back to Dante. “Go get your woman out of our basement. I think I’m going to need it.”
Chapter Six
Rebel paced from one end of the room to the other. She had no idea how long she’d been cooped up in this room since there wasn’t a damn clock on the wall and her cell phone was upstairs in her purse. Although it might as well have been days as angry as she was.
What if Dante was dead?
The thought made her blood run cold.
He better be all right or she was going to kill him. She rubbed her arms as if that would help wipe away some of the worry. Nothing helped. What could be taking so long? She turned and walked in the opposite direction, surprised there wasn’t already a traffic pattern worn in the carpet.
A click at the door had Rebel going on alert. There was nothing in the room to use as a weapon, she’d already checked, so she sure hoped it was Dante coming in and not some stranger. She volunteered for this wild plan of her own free will, but that didn’t mean she wanted to die tonight at the hands of some crazy soaked hunter willing to shoot down anyone that got in his way.
The door flung open and Dante appeared in the doorway, clad only in a pair of jeans and caked dried blood streaking down his arm and chest.
“Oh thank God.” She rushed forward and gently grabbed his injured arm. “Are you okay? I’ve been frantic. I didn’t realize there was blood until after you’d gone.
“I’ll be fine. Not the first time I’ve been shot.”
Rebel ignored that. She most certainly did not want to entertain the idea this kind of thing happened all the time for him. She also refrained from screaming and punching at him for locking her in this room. For now.
“Did someone call nine-one-one? We need to get you to a hospital.”
“Really, it’s not that big of a deal.” His voice came out strong despite the unusually pale color of his skin and haunted look in his eyes.
“Well, we have to do something. You’re not going to heal with your skin hanging open like that. At the very least you need some stitches.” She leaned over and inspected the mangled wound a little closer. “Oh for Christ’s sake. There’s a bullet still lodged in there.”
He nodded. “That explains why it’s not healed yet.”
She grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the door. “Well. C’mon then. If we can’t take you to the hospital then I’m going to at least pull that slug out of you and stitch you closed.”
His eyes widened. “You know how to do these things?”
She shrugged. “I’ve never pulled a bullet out, but I’m damned good with a pair of tweezers and a sewing kit which, unless you’ve got a doctor in your pocket, is better than nothing.”
“I don’t have a sewing kit here,” he said, stopping them both in their tracks.
She turned back to him. “Then good thing I’m here. I have a fully stocked purse for every kind of wardrobe malfunction right up those stairs.”
He pulled his eyebrows together. “What the hell is a wardrobe malfunction and what does that have to do with getting a bullet out?”
Rebel started laughing, so hard she doubled over. “You should see your face right now. Oh my God. Priceless. Forget about the wardrobe and just trust me. I got this.”
He looked down at his bare torso and she followed his line of sight. Yes, she’d noticed the rippling abs, perfectly formed pecs and the mouthwatering trail of hair that led below the waistband of his jeans. Under different circumstances she probably would’ve already tried following it. The mere thought of getting inside his pants and investigating
Learning to Kill: Stories