Free The Mane Attraction by Shelly Laurenston

the moment. Typically, Dez was well armed with a .45, and she slowly moved to the window, keeping close to the wall and out of the direct line of fire.
    Mace crouched down by her and Mitch.
    “No ambulance,” Mitch said again.
    “Don’t worry, kid,” Mace told him. “We’ve got it under control.”
    But the strips of sheet she’d balled up and pressed against his wounds were already saturated in blood, and blood covered Sissy’s hands, up her forearms, damn near to her elbows.
    Dez walked back over. She glanced down at Mitch before heading to the door. “I’m checking outside.”
    “Dez—” But Mace didn’t get to finish since she was already gone.
    Suddenly, Brendon and Marissa were there, but without Ronnie, which struck Sissy as really odd. Mace moved so Brendon could get close. Marissa didn’t say anything, simply braced her back against the wall, wrapped her arms around her stomach, and stared. Sissy could see the terror in her eyes, in her pale face. She was terrified for her baby brother. And she’d probably never admit it.
    The brothers locked eyes, and Sissy felt the connection that went through them. She had it with Bobby Ray. That connection that went beyond simple blood ties and to something so much deeper.
    Brendon took Mitch’s hand in his own and held on tight. “We need to get him out of here.”
    “No ambulance,” Mitch repeated. “No police.”
    “We can’t leave him here,” Brendon said calmly. “Do we know a local doc?”
    “I don’t,” Mace said. “But I’m sure—”
    Ronnie ran in, and behind her were Mitch’s mother and Gwen.
    Roxy motioned Brendon away and crouched next to Mitch. She pulled the pieces of sheet away and examined his wounds. “I need water. Gwen, go to the car and get the kit.”
    Gwen moved without question, and Ronnie swept up the ice bucket before heading into the bathroom to get the water.
    Roxy grabbed clean strips of the ripped up sheet and pressed it against Mitch’s wounds. She called Sissy over with a tilt of her head. “Hold these against his wounds until I tell you to stop.”
    Sissy nodded and did as she was ordered.
    No more than two more minutes passed before Gwen came back into the room with a metal box, “First Aid” written in red on the top. She popped the clasps and pulled out a huge roll of gauze. Ripping off strips, she handed them to her mother.
    By then, Roxy had her water. She pushed Sissy’s hands away and carefully wiped off the blood. More seemed to pour out, but her expression never changed. She looked intensely interested but nothing more. She didn’t show any signs of panic or fear or rage. She simply cleaned her son’s wounds and examined the area.
    “I see three entrance wounds. The one on his neck is mostly a graze. The other two ...” She reached under Mitch’s shoulder, managing to ignore the way he winced, and felt around. “Yeah. They went through. Which is good. Won’t have to dig around.”
    She gripped Mitch’s shoulder, and he snarled at her. “Yeah. The bullet hit some bone on the way through. That’s gonna hurt like a bitch when it heals.”
    She grabbed more gauze and again put pressure on the wound. “Sissy.” Immediately, Sissy replaced Roxy’s hands with her own and applied pressure.
    “Gwen, what have we got in the kit?”
    “For closing his wounds?” Gwen looked inside without waiting for her mother’s response. “We’ve got your staple gun.”
    And Mitch snarled again.
    Roxy patted his head. “The last thing we need is for him to heal over those. They’re a bitch to get out after. What else?”
    “Butterfly bandages.”
    “Perfect. We’ll work with those.”
    “Why not stitches?” Brendon asked, pacing restlessly while he watched.
    “I don’t know when they’ll get taken out. And again, I don’t want his wound healing over them. Gwen, take Sissy’s place. You’ll help me.”
    Sissy stood up and moved out of Gwen’s way. She stared down at her blood-drenched hands,