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“I know, baby. I know.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed the top of her head. “It’s all right.”

They stood that way for several minutes. Olivia eventually drew back, forcing a smile. “We should go. I know you have things to do.”

Connor frowned, not liking the way she said that. “We need to talk about this tonight, okay? Once all this mess is done.”

She nodded, but he wasn’t convinced she would wait for him. It felt like she was disengaging, and he didn’t like it.

His radio was squawking on his hip. Pulling it up, he keyed the mic. “Go ahead dispatch.”

“Chief, I sent a team to the judge’s tent five minutes ago, and they’re not responding. Can you check on them?”

“On my way,” he said, taking off. He grabbed Olivia’s hand, making eye contact with her, and she nodded, keeping up with him.

They reached the white judge’s tent and walked inside, just as the sound of a firecracker went off. Who the hell had firecrackers in here, he thought angrily, just as pain hit his midsection. Olivia gasped beside him and fell away. No, wait, he was falling. He landed hard, the breath knocked out of him, and looked over.

Drake was fighting with someone on the ground, and fucking Courtney Michaels was standing over them with a gun aimed at the fight. What the hell? Connor closed his eyes.

CHAPTER 11

Olivia screamed in horror. After what had just been going through her head, she thought she’d fallen into a waking dream. But no, that was real blood spreading across Connor’s lower body. He fell so hard, and there wasn’t anything she could do about that.

Drake was rolling on the ground with someone, and Courtney was aiming, trying to get a lock on the assailant, but she didn’t have a good grip on the gun. It wavered in her hands, too big for her grip. Olivia glanced between Drake’s fight and Courtney. Courtney was the bigger threat in that second. Racing across the tent, she ripped the gun from the woman’s hands and turned, ready to aid Drake. Courtney grabbed her shoulder. “Hey, that’s my gun,” she cried.

Without hesitation, Olivia turned and shoved her back onto her ass. “You shot Connor, you moron.”

Courtney’s eyes went wide, and she looked toward the door of the tent. Connor was still sprawled there, not moving.

Drake gained the upper hand on the man beneath him, striking him with a hard right cross to the jaw, and Olivia saw him for the first time. Pete Crocker? Seriously? What the hell?

Drake got Pete cuffed and flipped over onto his face, where he sat on him, regaining his breath. Olivia shoved the gun toward Drake to take control of. “Courtney shot Connor!”

She raced back to him, throwing herself on her knees beside him, hands going to his abdomen to staunch the blood. It was flowing so fast. She needed to get it under control.

Ripping the radio from his belt, she called for help, her fingers slipping on the buttons because of the blood. She needed a first aid kit, or a med kit. She searched the tent frantically and spied two other firefighters down on the ground. It looked like they were fine, just bound and unconscious. “Courtney, grab that big blue bag, now!”

The woman was a blubbering mess, still sitting where Olivia had knocked her down. Olivia knew it would be quicker for her to just do it. Climbing to her feet, she raced, grabbed the bag, then ran back. She ripped it open, looking for pads or anything. She found them and ripped several open, piling them onto the bullet hole. Then she pressed down hard. If she didn’t get this under control, Connor would die.

When the blood continued to flow, she knew one of the arteries in his lower belly had to have been nicked or cut. Knowing what she was about to do was going to be dangerous, she removed the pads and ran the middle finger of her right hand into the hole, feeling for a very slight movement of blood. Was that it? Yes… afraid to move, she pressed down as hard as she dared, knowing that she could be pressing the bullet into something equally as delicate.

Connor groaned but didn’t rouse.

Luckily, two medic teams raced into the tent seconds later. They stalled out when they realized who they would be working on. Olivia didn’t know their names, but they obviously knew Connor. “Get your asses in gear,” Olivia yelled. “He doesn’t have long.”

They raced to the hospital, implementing the plan Connor himself had created to cordon off a path to the hospital. Olivia literally straddled his body in the ambulance to keep enough pressure on the bleed, and she didn’t climb off him until nineteen minutes later, when he was in the surgical suite and the doctor was scrubbing in. She told him where she suspected the bleed was, and that she could feel blood flow against her finger. Only when he was right behind her, instruments in hand, did she climb off the gurney. She hated to leave Connor, but she was not sterile by any means, and this was going to be a hard enough fix without infection later.

Feeling wiped out, she went to wait in the corridor.

A nurse found her about half an hour later and nudged her to her feet. She took her to a shower room to clean up. Olivia looked down. Yes, she was covered in Connor’s blood, and it was pretty horrific. The nurse gave her a set of scrubs and promised to let her know the minute he was out of surgery.

Olivia didn’t linger, anyway. She left her leg on because it needed washed as well. The entire gurney had been soaked in his blood, and she’d been on her knees in it. If she left the leg seated in the cup, it would only get damp around the upper edge. She washed quickly, then dressed and walked out into the corridor, tossing her clothes into the trash can. They were ruined beyond washing.

In the hallway, three of Connor’s men, including his brother, were sitting in chairs in the hallway. Nurses were drawing blood and filling bags. Yes, Connor would need transfusions. The men looked scared but determined. Jack’s gaze lingered on her, but she had no reassuring words to give him. She couldn’t even find them for herself.

Time slowed to a crawl as she waited, sitting on the floor and listening to the clock tick. Hours went by, and she didn’t move. Someone brought her coffee, though, which she appreciated. Until she had to go pee. Then she could hardly get up, because she’d been sitting there on the cold floor so long. Jack helped her up, and when she returned, he sat her in the chair beside him. The doors to the surgical suite were less than twenty feet away, but it felt like miles.

Olivia had planned to leave tonight. It just seemed like there was too much working against them to be together, but this injury, well… it had showed her how completely she had fallen in love with Connor. And she would fight for him to her dying breath.