Hillbilly Rockstar (Blacktop Cowboys 6)

She blew a raspberry. “Please. He winged me. Barely a flesh wound.”

“Jesus.”

At that point the cavalry arrived. The EMTs helped her up and led her to the ambulance.

Devin was right there with her, every step of the way.

After she warned the EMTs that she was armed, they very gingerly cut away the ripped and bloody sleeve of her shirt. She hissed when they started poking around in the wound.

Her eyes met Devin’s. He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckles. He’d stayed so close to her side that she figured the EMTs would boot his ass any second. They tried; Devin snarled and they let him stay.

The EMTs conferred in low tones. The medical jargon meant nothing to her, but the wound was getting to the excruciatingly painful stage. During a break in their conversation, she said, “So? What’s the prognosis?”

“The bullet grazed you. But given the caliber of the bullet, it took a decent-sized chunk of flesh out of your arm. Not sure if there’s muscle damage, so we need to get you to the ER.”

“Is there a veterans hospital around here?”

“Liberty, you don’t have to worry about that. We’ll take care of the bill.”

She rolled her eyes. “The VA has all my medical records. It’ll save time. Plus, if they’ve got a wound care unit, that’s who I want treating me.”

“There is a VA close by,” the female EMT offered.

“Good. Let’s go.”

Crash jogged over. “You all set here?”

“They’re takin’ her to the VA. I’m riding along with her.”

“Uh, no, you’re not,” Liberty said. “I’m not exactly in the best position to protect you.”

Devin smiled at the wide-eyed EMTs. “Can you please give us a moment alone?”

As soon as they stepped aside, Devin lit into her. “Not another f**kin’ word about you protecting me. The guy who caused the problems is under arrest. And there’s no way in hell I’m gonna sit on the bus with my thumb up my ass while you’re in the f**kin’ hospital from a goddamn bullet wound, Liberty.”

Liberty looked at Crash, expecting he’d talk sense into Devin.

But Crash just shrugged. “I’m with Dev on this.”

“Why?”

“Because if I know he’s with you, I won’t have to worry that he’ll pull some dangerous dumb stunt trying to get to you.”

“Fine.” She gave Devin a hard look. “But we’re going to a military hospital. I’m a former soldier, so there will be no f**king coddling me, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Now give him your gun,” Devin told her in that bossy tone of his.

She reached around with her right hand—thank God she hadn’t been shot in her right arm—and pulled the gun from her Undertech concealment shorts and handed it to Crash. “It’s got one in the chamber.”

“You are one scary-ass woman.” Crash handled it like it was a snake, which amused her to the point she had to bite back hysterical laughter.

Possibly she was coming down from the danger high and was about to crash.

Hey, she could crash into Crash. Wasn’t that funny? She had to chomp on her tongue to keep from chortling like a hyena at her awesome play on words.

“I won’t be able to keep this from the media. So how do you want Big Sky to spin this?” Crash asked Devin.

“The official immediate statement should be: ‘Unstable tour bus driver took a member of Devin McClain’s road crew hostage. After a brief scuffle, the bus driver is in police custody awaiting charges. The crew member suffered a non-life-threatening wound and is expected to make a full recovery.’”

Liberty cocked her head. “Wow. If I could clap right now, I would. Damn, guitar slinger, you’re quick on the uptake.”

Devin smiled. “Ain’t my first rodeo, G.I. Jane.”

Chapter Thirty

Four hours later, Devin was stretched out on the bed on his bus beside Liberty. After she’d given her statement to the cops, the docs had doped her up on pain meds since she’d refused to spend the night in the hospital. She’d gone comatose the instant her head had hit the pillow.

He’d wanted to cosset her in a nice hotel with room service, but they’d hit the road so he could make his next performance.

A performance he’d be a zombie for since he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Devin had never been so terrified as in that moment when he realized that JT would shoot her. He’d reacted instinctively and he’d do it again, despite Miss Professional Bodyguard’s ass chewing for his macho behavior. She’d pointed out—repeatedly—that he could’ve hit JT at the wrong angle, sending the bullet ricocheting into her head or into her heart. To which he’d calmly replied that her head was so f**king hard the bullet would’ve bounced off it like rubber.

She’d not found that amusing.

Eventually his eyelids drooped. Before he succumbed to slumber, he wondered if the drugs would keep Liberty from having combat nightmares. Because guaranteed this event would stir them up.

The next morning Devin had showered and dressed by the time Liberty woke up. “Mornin’, bullet catcher.”

“Fuck off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Did JT hit part of your funny bone last night when he shot your arm? Because, woman, that was funny.”

“Ha. Fucking. Ha. Better?” She struggled to sit up. “God. Did they slip me elephant tranquilizers last night?”