Breaking My Bodyguard novel · Chapter 18 of 24

Chapter 18: Archer Avenue

Marisa put the medical kit in my hands in the back of my father's car.

"Go," she said.

"Papa is right there."

"Your father is sitting in the front seat with a gold ring in his fist and not saying a word. He'll keep. That boy bleeds."

She told the driver an address on Archer Avenue.

She had known it for three years.

The building was a brick two-flat with a bus stop out front, and a light on the second floor behind a torn shade.

I climbed the outside stairs in my ruined boots.

I knocked on the door.

Rafe opened the door in his undershirt, with one sleeve of it dark and wet.

He had taken off the suit jacket and the tie, and for the first time in my life I saw him with nothing to guard.

"Livia," he said. "You can't be here."

"Your shoulder's bleeding."

"It's a graze."

"It's a hole. Sit down."

His flat was one room.

There was a made bed with a gray blanket, a table with one chair, a hot plate, a bookshelf of paperbacks with cracked spines.

The window looked at a brick wall.

It was the cleanest room I'd ever seen, and it had nothing in it that wasn't needed.

I dropped the kit on the table and pointed at the chair.

He sat.

I cut away the sleeve of his undershirt and washed the wound with water from the kettle.

The bullet had taken a strip out of the top of his shoulder, deep and clean.

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