Chapter Ten
Morgan didn’t say much else to him after they stepped into Davin’s house. The truth was she wasn’t really sure what else to say. She’d seen Davin kill the man in cold blood, and what chilled her more wasn’t that he didn’t care, but that once she thought about it, she didn’t.
She knew she should be disgusted, but the farther away the incident grew, the less she could bring herself to feel that way. In fact, after the shock of it all had faded, killing the man didn’t seem all that outrageous.
Davin was right. It wasn’t as if he’d walked up and shot the man out of nowhere. There was something to be said for “live by the sword, die by the sword.”
Morgan wondered what her aunt would say. This wasn’t how she would have wanted her niece to spend her weekend. That was for sure.
Thinking about it too much wouldn’t change anything. She tried to shake off the bad feeling the whole thing gave her.
She walked around Davin’s house, surprised that he actually had a house. It just didn’t seem to go with the wandering life style she associated with him. A home meant permanence.
A home meant he might be staying for a while.
Morgan shook her head, trying to force down the hope that wanted to rise.
The real surprise was the tasteful decoration. Not that she really knew his style, but judging by the retro flashy car he drove, she doubted that brown muted tones were really his thing.
“Finn set all these houses up for us.”
Morgan jumped and turned toward the voice. Davin stepped back into the room, his shirt off.
A plane of hard muscle flexed as he placed a small black zippered bag on a table, along with two opened bottles of beer. He picked up one and took a long drink.
Morgan’s eyes trailed over him until she came back up to Davin’s beautiful green eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, but wasn’t sure what exactly she wanted to say.
There were so many things she should say, but just as she’d been processing his return to her life, they’d been swept up in this shoot out with goons at the club.
That sort of thing just wasn’t her life. She owned a quiet little bookstore.
Davin’s phone rang loudly, forcing his attention down, and ending the intense gaze he had been giving her for a second. But he quickly returned to staring at her.
“Yeah,” he said, after bringing the phone to his ear. His eyes stayed on her, and she shivered. “Getting ready to take care of it now.” He looked away. “I know,” Davin said quietly, and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
He winced as he did so, and for the first time, she noticed the blood dribbling down his arm.
Morgan hurried over to Davin. Without hesitation, she turned his arm to the side.
“You were shot!”
Davin nodded and sat on the couch. “Yeah, looks like it. Feels like it, too.”
Morgan sat next to him. “We have to get you to the hospital.”
Davin gave a small laugh. She was so close that she could see the soft crinkles in the corner of his eyes that always made her stomach do flips.
He shrugged. “No big deal. I’ve had worse. I just need to get the bullet out and stitch it up.”
Davin unzipped the bag and pulled out what appeared to be first-aid supplies. He picked up tweezers and dropped them into a small bottle of alcohol.
“Are you fucking crazy?” she all but shouted.
Davin turned and grinned at her. Anger and worry started to well up in her.
“You’ve got quite the mouth on you these days,” he said.
Something about the way he said it made her shiver a little, a deep sort of almost purr that made her lower half burn.
Morgan ignored his suggestive tone and watched as he fished out the tweezers from the alcohol. He took a long swig off his bottle of beer before placing the tweezers inside the bullet hole. Blood ran down his arm, and she grabbed the towel he’d brought to catch it.
“You can’t take out a bullet yourself,” she said, her words breathless as they came out.
Davin shrugged and pulled out the tweezers, a small bullet pinched between the tips. He dropped the metal on the table. “Not like this is the first time I’ve done something like this.”
He picked up a fresh bottle of alcohol and poured it over the wound. She could tell it hurt like hell with how much his hand shook and the grim set of his jaw. He set down the bottle and picked up a needle and thread.
With a trembling hand, she took the needle from him. “I’ll do it,” she said softly.
Davin looked at her and gave a small nod. “Just keep the stitches small.”
Morgan took several deep breaths. She’d read about this sort of thing, of course, but she didn’t even have an up-to-date CPR certification, let alone actual experience doing stitches.
She bit her lip and brought the needle in for the first stitch. It took all her will to not close her eyes.
She winced each time she pierced his skin and was glad she only had to do it four times to close the hole. When she finished, she placed antibiotic ointment on the spot and covered it with gauze. A little tape finished up her first aid efforts.
Davin sat back and finished his beer.
He had just started on his second one when Morgan frowned. Her eyes began searching his body. How many times had he been shot?
She zeroed in on a spot near his collar bone. Carefully she reached out and ran a finger over the thin scar.
“Grazed me there,” he said softly. “About four years ago.”
Morgan found another small faded line on his left pec.
“Knife fight,” he said, and took a drink. “You should see the other guy.” He grinned.
She slid her gaze down him and found a larger scar on his right rib. Morgan took in a deep breath and ran a finger over the spot. This one was puckered and still looked pink. Like it was fresh.
“And this?”
She gasped when he placed his hand over hers, pressing her hand into the spot.
“Little over a year,” he whispered.
Davin finished off his second beer and placed it on the table next to him. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch. “I really wanted to be here.”
She swallowed. “Aunt Dee.”
He nodded and opened his eyes. “I was undercover with some nasty guys up north. They were picking off the young girls of the town to sell off to the highest bidder.”
She felt his thumb move over her hand still pressed against the wound. It was a comforting feeling touching him this way.
“I was just about to make my move when the leader caught wind somehow that I was hired to take care of them. I was fast enough to get one round in him to take him out, but not before he hit me.”
Morgan leaned in a little. Amazed that he was still around, considering.
“His men all took off,” he said, and stared at her. “Left me there to bleed out on the floor. It was only luck that Kane decided to stop by when I hadn’t checked in.”
She turned her hand to lace her fingers through his. “Why didn’t he call me? I would have come.”
Davin shook his head. “By the time I came out of surgery, we got word about your aunt. You already had too much to worry about without adding my sorry ass to the mix.”
She frowned. All this time she’d been so angry with him for not coming, but he had been trying to protect her.
Her instincts had been pushing her toward being with him, even when her rational mind tried to convince her it was a bad idea. The more she learned about him, the more she realized her instincts had been right.
Morgan leaned forward and placed a kiss against his lips.
He groaned loudly and dropped his head back against the couch. “You’re going to make me waste all my good intentions.”
She frowned. “Your what?”
Davin stared at her for a moment before sighing loudly. “Fuck it. I’m already going to hell anyway. Might as well enjoy it.”
She gasped as he shifted forward and pressed his mouth firmly to hers, leaning back until she was lying on the couch. His hard body covered her own as he plundered her mouth.