Page 154 of Dominion

Jeremy almost took a bullet to the head—it struck the ground beside him.

Cody fired at Jeremy’s shooter—Rabago. He got him right in the center of the forehead. He could thank his father for the ten years of target practice and hunting in his childhood.

The explosions of gunfire subsided and shifters ran through the area, looking as organized as trained militia.

Sirens sounded in the distance and Mark pulled out his phone. “Disappear, all but you three,” he ordered, pointing at Jeremy, Cody, and Melissa.

Cody eased his weight off his female and helped her to her feet. “Are you all right, baby? Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, her lips forming into speech but no sound coming out. “Y-you’re… shot? Okay. Right? Bleeding.”

Poor baby. He pulled her against his side, holding her tight with one arm as he kept his gun loosely held with his free hand. “I’m fine. Unless it’s a bullet to the head, shifters bounce right back.” He kissed her hair. Her reaction to his bullet wounds had been forever imprinted in his mind.

She loved him.

Jeremy attempted to crawl to his feet, but Mark pointed his gun at him. “You stay on the fucking floor. Face down, hands behind your head.”

Jeremy complied. The sirens grew louder.

“This is going to be a cluster fuck. Try to let me do the talking, all right?” Mark muttered. “Drop your gun, Steele.”

He dropped the gun and wrapped both arms around Melissa. Her body trembled against his. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s over now. Everything’s going to be fine,” he murmured against her hair.

She shivered against him and pressed her body closer.

“I’ve got you, baby. I’m not letting go.”

Not now. Not ever. Not for anything.

15

Mark Ruhl somehow managed to allow her and Cody to walk away after giving their statements, without having to go into the police station. Jeremy was not so lucky. But hey, he was alive. Beyond that, it wasn’t her problem.

Cody held her snugly against her side the entire time, and now walked her to her truck. He opened the passenger door for her, though, and held out his hand for the keys.

Another time she might have argued. Right now, she could hardly form sentences, and the sight of Cody’s blood-drenched clothing kept reminding her of the horror of the moment when she thought he’d been killed.

She should have known he was all right. Should have remembered from Ashley’s story of Ben getting shot when she’d been blackmailed, but all she knew in the moment was white dread. Terrifying, heart-stopping fear that Cody had been murdered. Because of her. And in the shock of the moment, her greatest regret had been that he would die not knowing what he meant to her.

She climbed in the truck and sat, numbly waiting as Cody started it up and drove back into town. She didn’t register their direction, or anything around her. Her ears still rang from the gunfire and the images of death flashed in front of her eyes in gruesome repetition.

“Cody…” Her voice cracked. She had to try to tell him—to make amends for the things she’d said. “I never thought you were… just a construction worker.” Her tongue felt too big in her mouth. Pressure built behind her eyes and nose. “I’m sorry?—”

“Hush, baby. I know.”

“No, please… I want you to know something.”

He turned to look at her, his face weary, eyes haunted. “What, baby?”

“I was bluffing,” she whispered. “When I said it was just sex. Every time I pushed you away. You were too much my type and I was afraid of making another mistake, but I never thought you were beneath me.”

Cody parked the truck and reached over to squeeze her fingers. She looked out the window, not recognizing the place. They were in the Old North End neighborhood, but not on his street. A huge Victorian brick house stood on a recently landscaped lot. The house had a worn look. Some of the siding trim had rotted in places, and it desperately needed a new roof and several coats of paint.

“Where are we?”

Cody didn’t answer, but he walked around and opened her door for her, offering a hand to help her out. He tucked her back against his side and walked her to the door, pulling out his keys and fitting one into the lock.

“Is this one of your houses?”