It's a Sweet Life

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Take it easy, ma’am. You’re okay.”

Libbie tried to sit up, but realized she’d been strapped down and from the looks of it was in the back of an ambulance. The weight pressing against her chest from the bulletproof vest she wore didn’t help. She immediately began struggling with the EMT, thrashing and screaming at him to let her up. He tried to hold her down when she slipped an arm free and clawed at him.

“I need some damn help back here!” the man yelled. “She’s going crazy!”

The rear doors flew open. Libbie made out two dark figures backlit by the bright afternoon sun. As they scrambled inside, she sobbed with relief when two Donohue brothers pushed in, one on either side of the stretcher, to calm her. One was shirtless, the other had a streak of dried blood down his left temple.

She grabbed their hands and quit fighting. Her screams turned to relieved sobs as she squeezed their hands as hard as she could to reassure herself there were two and not just one of them in some crazy double-vision illusion.

“You’re okay,” Ben said, the dried blood apparently not indicating a serious wound. “Calm down.”

“You got shot,” she said to Allan, who winced as he moved as if he was in a lot of pain.

“Bulletproof vest.” He leaned in and kissed her, groaning as he did. “Fucker would have shot you if I hadn’t. What the hell were you thinking, baby?”

“Are you all right? Are both of you all right?”

264 Tymber

Dalton

“Yeah, we’re okay,” Ben said, “but Jake is pretty damn upset.”

“Jake?”

Allan nodded. “Poor guy’s sitting on the ground with an icepack on his balls. Did you have to kick him in the nuts? He was trying to help keep you safe.”

She felt her face heat. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Someone leaned into the back of the ambulance. “Detective Donohue? The major needs to speak with you.”

“Be right there.” He kissed her before he unhooked the gurney straps. “You. Stay. Here. And quit fighting and kicking everyone.

You already threw up on two SWAT guys in addition to poor Jake.”

She didn’t miss the proud twinkle in his eye.

“And she tried to take my eyes out,” the EMT grumbled from somewhere behind her head.

She looked back. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

Allan leaned back, wincing in pain.

“You want me to take a look at you?” the EMT asked.

He shook his head. “I can wait. How is she?”

“Who’s the lucky father again?” the EMT asked.

“It doesn’t matter.”

The EMT snorted. “Yeah, it will to him. If she’s this wound up and only in her first trimester, I pity the guy who’s got to put up with her hormones for the other six or seven months.”

Allan winked at Libbie. “You just have to know how to hold her down is all.”

It’s a Sweet Life

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