Page 56 of Hours to Kill
“You thinking it was Razo?” Sean asked.
Addy didn’t want to talk about Razo, yet she knew it would help keep Mack’s mind off the injury.
Mack nodded. “One of the stories in Addy’s files was about Barrett sniper rifles. They’re .50 cal weapons, so yeah. I figure he or one of his minions took the shot.”
“Razo was selling them too,” Addy said as she remembered intel she’d received. “My source says he bought broken and discarded guns for a song and had a gunsmith fix them up for him.”
Kiley looked over the seat. “Sounds like you remember the investigation.”
Addy nodded and started to remove Mack’s boot.
“Be careful with that,” he warned. “Don’t want my boot damaged.”
“You and your precious boots.” Addy rolled her eyes but knew deep inside how much he loved his boots.
“You remember more than the investigation?” Kiley asked.
Addy shook her head. “It’s just another one of those feelings.”
“Not hard to remember that,” Sean said sarcastically. “The man would rather die than lose those boots.”
“Hey.” Mack grinned. “You should know to never get between a cowboy and his boots.”
Despite the blood. Despite the danger. The adrenaline. The near loss of her life. Addy had to chuckle. Probably Mack and Sean’s intent.
She studied Mack’s wound. A three-inch gash ran across the outside of his leg, the skin splayed open, revealing the muscle below. She gasped.
“Hey,” Mack said. “It’s just a flesh wound. Not even bleeding anymore.”
She stared at him. “I can see the muscle. A doctor needs to make sure there’s no muscle damage, and it’s going to need stitches.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll get it looked at after you’re back at the safe house. But FYI, docs don’t stitch up minor gunshot wounds. Bullets leave a lot of debris in the wound, so too big of a risk for infection.”
She couldn’t imagine leaving the gaping wound open, but at least it would be bandaged. While she wanted him to head to an ER right now, she knew no matter what she said he wouldn’t budge.
Kiley looked over the seat. “You got lucky, man.”
Addy shot Kiley a look. “You call this lucky?”
“If the shooter really was pumping off .50s, a fraction of an inch closer and Mack wouldn’t have a leg at all.”
Addy knew .50 caliber bullets did serious damage, but she’d never witnessed the destruction, and she shuddered at the thought. Not only at Mack losing his leg, but one of them could have lost their lives. She swallowed away the horrific thought and got out gauze pads. She gently laid them over the wound. He winced and gritted his teeth.
“Sorry,” she said.
“No worries.” He smiled again, but now it was tight, and his eyes narrowed. “It’s got to be done, so go for it.”
She wrapped gauze around his leg to secure the pads and finished it all off with tape.
“Done,” she said. “I wish I could do more.”
“You could kiss his boo-boo and make the pain go away,” Sean joked.
Mack laughed, a deep belly chuckle, and that lightened her heart.
“Or just kiss him,” Kiley added, a spark of mischief in her eyes.
Mack’s laughter fell off, and he looked at Addy, his expression telling her he wouldn’t mind that at all. They sat there, locked in each other’s gaze as the miles passed under them.
