Page 19 of Cautious Love

Then I hear a bang, like a gun went off.

I don’t think twice before jumping out of my truck and running to the home. I knock on the door and announce myself before barging into Grey’s place, weapon drawn.

He’s screaming on the floor, and Shiloh is sobbing, pushing a towel on his arm. I spot a revolver behind her, and kick the gun out of the way.

“Please, please help him. I … I was just getting my stuff and —”

“The hell you were! You were coming to kill me!” Grey yells.

I holster my gun. “Shiloh, please stand over there.” She nods, doing what I said, shaking and crying with blood all over her hands.

Inspecting Grey, I squat down and lift the dish towel. She shot him through the arm. He’ll live. I place the towel back on his arm and he holds it to the wound.

“Hey call backup or whatever. She shot me!” Grey yells.

Ignoring him, but keeping him in my sights, I look at Shiloh. “Tell me what happened, and quickly.”

If anyone else heard that gunshot, we have maybe two more minutes before more people are here, and this goes from real bad to — I can’t protect her in prison.

“I was coming to get my stuff. I didn’t know he was home. The lights were off. I still had a key. We got into an argument, he uh…” She sniffles and takes a breath, staring at her bloody hands.

“No, she didn’t! She walked in and pointed the gun right at me!” Grey yells.

Still focused on Shiloh, I lift my boot and press lightly on the bullet wound. He howls in pain. “I was not talking to you,” I say sternly.

“He hit me, so I pulled the gun to protect myself. Then he tried to take it from me, and I swear I didn’t mean to do it. The gun went off and there was … there was blood everywhere —” She sobs into her hands, sliding down the wall, and I look at Grey.

I don’t know why I do it.

This could mean the end of my career.

Possibly even prison time.

But this asshole deserves a lot worse than a through and through bullet in the arm.

“Where is your phone?” I ask Grey.

He points to the kitchen and I use a dish towel to pick it up.

“Shiloh, do you have your things?” I ask her.

She stops crying and looks at me, confused. “What?”

“Do you have your things?”She frowns and points to the bag next to the door.

“Get your gun and your bag, please,” I tell her calmly.

She listens, doing exactly what I said, though struggling to stand up straight. I hope he didn’t completely break her ribs this time.

I back out of the room to the threshold of the door, and gesture with my chin for Shiloh to go ahead.

This is a bad idea. I’m aware of this. But I can’t let him win. She can’t pay the price for a piece of shit not worth scraping off my boot.

“Hey! What are you doing? I’m dying here!” Grey yells.

I look him in the eye as he struggles to sit up. “You will call 911 in five minutes. You will not bleed out. If I hear anything other than this was a self-inflicted accident, you will not like the consequences,” I say sternly.

He glowers, and I toss the phone close enough that he can reach, but he’ll have to wiggle himself over to it. Then again, real men would stand up and get it.