Page 75 of Her Royal Treatment

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I shook my head, coming back into the moment. I turned to see the entire first floor was, like me, covered in dust and debris. Hud and Kid seemed fine, both of them struggling to their feet.

Pyke was another story. He groaned where he lay, his hands wrapped around his leg.

I spotted a heavy-duty kitchen knife on the ground, then ran over to Pyke.

“First-aid kit!” I shouted to Kid. “Third-floor bathroom. Get it, now!”

He nodded and was gone without another word. Once I was at Pyke’s side, I took the knife and cut through his pants above the bullet wound on his thigh, ripping off the fabric so I could get a better look at the injury.

There was a lot of blood. Like Kid’s gunshot, a bullet through the leg could be bad. The leg contained the femoral artery and getting that severed would mean death by exsanguination within minutes.

“It’s clean,” Hud said as he dropped to his knees on the other side of Pyke. “I’ve seen more than a few men get their femoral nicked—you’ll never see more blood in your life when you’ve seen that.”

It was a relief.

“You with me, Pyke?” I asked.

He nodded, his face caked in dust.

“I’m fine. Hurts like a bitch. What’s a guy got to do to get some damn Advil around here?”

His bad joke put a smile on my face—it meant that he was still with us, that his brain hadn’t been knocked around too hard.

Kid emerged with the first-aid kit. He hurried over to Pyke and lifted his leg, looking on the other side.

“Through and through,” he said. He flashed Pyke a smile. “Join the club.”

“It’s fine,” Pyke grumbled as he put his hands on the ground and tried to push himself up. “Wrap a bandage around it and let’s get going. Every second we’re not moving is another second they can get away.” As soon as he put weight on his leg, however, he let out a cry of pain.

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said. “That is, other than the nearest hospital. Pyke, I know you want to help, but you’ve been shot.”

Anger flashed on his face. If you ever wanted to piss a merc off, tell him that he had to sit around doing nothing while his allies put their lives on the line.

“Kid, get him to the hospital. I’ve gotta call Bryan.”

Kid and Hud got Pyke up, his arms around their shoulders as they headed to the car.

“Ajax,” he said, fury in his eyes. “Bring her home alive.”

I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “You know I will.”

With that, he was gone. I called Bryan and an hour later he was there, showing up right about the time Kid was back from dropping off Pyke. News from Kid was that the wound was through the fatty part of the thigh. Pyke would be fine, but he needed to stay off his leg for the time being.

“Holy hell,” Bryan said as he stepped into the house, shaking his head in disbelief at the mess.

“Sorry, Bry.”

He shook his head again.

“The important thing is that you and your boys are safe,” he said. “Next important thing is that we get the princess back.”

I nodded. “Problem is we’re down a man. Four’s the smallest operating team I want to work with.”

Bryan ran his hand through his hair. “I’d go with you, but Megan’s finally on the mend with the baby. Little one’s looking to be premature, but OK otherwise.”

In spite of everything, I couldn’t help but smile at the news.

“Thank God,” I said, putting my hand on his shoulder. “Your place is here, papa-to-be.”


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