Free Fight By The Team (Team Fear Book 2) by Cindy Skaggs

locking mechanism where she mashed the button to release the clip. The belt retracted, slipping across the wound. “Holy mother.”
    Pain zipped through her body like aftershocks. Sweat dripped down her face. The what ifs of the situation kept her moving. She needed to get free of the truck in case something bad went down, so she reached across her body and popped the door open with her left. The door gave and her body lurched with the sudden jolt, more pain spiraling from the wound. She eased her legs around to the opening and scooted to the edge of the seat.
    “Jesus H Christ.” Rose’s tone had bite. “You had one job.”
    Startled, she slid off the seat and had to catch herself with her left. Her right arm dangled like cooked spaghetti.
    Rose grabbed her before she slid to the hard packed ground. “What if someone from Echo had walked in the door?”
    “Then I’d be gone and you’d have to forgive me for bleeding all over your truck.”
    “Not funny.” He grabbed the Glock, set the safety, and tucked it behind his back. “Wasn’t worried about the truck. You’ve lost a lot of blood, sweetheart.”
    She twisted to get a look, but he maneuvered so her good arm faced him, and just like that, he had her up in his arms. He paused long enough to close the barn. Moments later, he had her in the shelter of her house. The deadbolt slammed home with a solid click. He wove a path through the house to set her on the sofa.
    “Wait. Blood will never get out of the microsuede.”
    Rose rolled his eyes. “Where do you want to do this, Princess?”
    “Take me to the bathroom down the hall.”
    “This isn’t some scratch we can bandage up in the bathroom before you hop in the shower.”
    “Oh.” Last night’s dinner agitated in her stomach. “Hospital?”
    “First place Echo will look.”
    When a hospital was unsafe, she’d fallen pretty far down the rabbit hole. “Doctor?”
    “Mandatory reporting on gunshot wounds. The police will get involved, which will draw Echo right to us. Don’t worry. I’m trained in battlefield triage, you’ll—”
    Something pounded on the front door. Rose transformed. An invisible shield covered his expressions as he went warrior strong before her eyes. He set her on the couch and pulled out the Glock. “Stay here.”
    Like she could get up at this point. She didn’t hear him move, but moments later the door clicked open and voices filled the emptiness.
    “What the fuck happened?” Rose’s angry voice followed by something or someone smacked into the wall. Granny’s china cabinet rattled with the pounding noises in the other room.
    “Get the fuck off,’ Fowler answered. “We didn’t know about the bomb. Found the detonator minutes after the car blew sky high.”
    “What about the shot? The bastard tagged Debi. You should have had him contained before he could take a shot.” Rose’s voice lifted in anger.
    Fowler’s angry voice shouted right back. “Wasn’t the asset who did the shooting, asshole. There was another shooter, so get the fuck off.”
    The china cabinet rattled and something clattered to the bottom shelf, the broken glass like a mini-explosion in the tense room. “Maybe you should take this outside.” She wanted her voice to be stern, but it came out a mere whisper. Neither of the men responded as the argument escalated. Debi stood to make her point, but the ground wiggled underfoot. She dropped to her butt. The soft cushion called.
    Let go. Drift.

Chapter Seven
    B oom , one minute she was upright and snarky, the next she dropped to the couch like a medicine ball. Rose dislodged his elbow from Fowler’s throat and raced around the couch. “Grab my kit.” He eased Debi’s head down and lifted her feet onto the couch. “A little hydrogen peroxide will get the stain out,” he assured her.
    “S’okay,” she mumbled. “Barry sat here. We could burn it. Isn’t that your specialty?”
    “Incendiary devices. I prefer blowing things up.” He put a