Chapter Thirty-Nine

Angel was impressed by the way Pudge released U.S. Deputy Marshal Dane Ryan as soon as Colton called him. She patted the dog on the head. He’d done his job well. Even if he’d mangled a friend instead of an intruder. That wasn’t his fault.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” she snapped at Dane.

“At the moment what is wrong with me is that I have holes in my leg,” he muttered angrily.

“Is that the same leg—”

“Where Samantha shot me? Yes. Yes, it is.”

“Oh, hell. I’m sorry. It’s just you’re not our first visitor.” She frowned down at the blood soaking through his pants. This was bad.

The poor guy had been ordered to take the gun away from Samantha Hutchinson during an op to bring her in. The woman had been scared, and who could blame her? Four U.S. marshals and a father she’d thought long dead had surrounded her, all armed to the teeth. When Dane had followed Supervisor Thorne’s order to disarm her, Sam had shot Dane in the leg. It had all turned out well in the end…except for Dane ending up in the hospital and physical therapy.

He’d just been released back to work, though he still had a slight limp. Pudge probably hadn’t helped with his rehabilitation.

“Markel was here already?” Dane asked, and gasped as Angel pulled him to his feet.

“Yes,” she confirmed, and added sardonically, “Thanks for the heads up.”

“We weren’t sure you were here. Your fax was a bit vague.”

“Hello,” Colton said, leaning down to inspect the damage to Dane’s leg. “For the record, she was planning to come out guns a-blazing.”

“Colton, this is Deputy Marshal Dane Ryan, Dane—Colton, er, Duncan.”

“Nice to meet you.” Dane held up a bloody hand in a gesture that said he wasn’t able to shake.

“Right. Let’s get inside and fix you up. You’re going to be fine,” she said, trying not to wince at the amount of blood already covering his jeans.

“Will you stitch me up?” he asked.

“Sure thing.” She’d stitched him up the last time he was injured. And another time when he got shot in the shoulder during a raid. And that time he was pushed off a boat and his arm caught on a hook.

She’d stitched up everyone in her team at one time or another. They all liked her work. It was what family did for one another. Well, theirs, anyway.

As Colton helped guide Dane into the bathroom, the doorbell rang, throwing Pudge for another loop.

Angel looked out the window to see a white sedan in the driveway and Josiah Thorne waiting on the front porch. She opened the door to let him in, staying back so no one could see her.

When she shut the door, her boss looked her over for a moment, then pulled her into a hug. It wasn’t the first time he’d hugged her, but it had been a while.

“I’m glad you’re okay, kid.”

Kid. He’d been calling her that since she was an eighteen-year-old…kid. She knew he wasn’t insulting her. To him, it was a term of endearment. And since he was the closest thing she had to a father, she let it go.

“Are they watching you?” she guessed.

“Yeah. Markel is trying to use this story to oust me and shut down Task Force Phoenix. He says I should have known you were unstable. I told him to kiss my ass.”

Angel smirked as she showed him to a chair.

“Ouch, God dammit!” Dane shouted from down the hall.

“He didn’t get shot again, did he?” Thorne only seemed slightly concerned. He cared—she was pretty sure. He just had a cold demeanor.

“No. Guard dog,” she explained as said dog came up and put his big head on Thorne’s leg for a scratch.

“This dog? He’s just a big sweetie.” Thorne rubbed him behind the ears, clearly seeing no threat. Not even when Pudge’s mouth fell open and his dopey tongue slid out over those impressively pointy teeth.

“You know Dane. Such a baby.” She laughed.

“I heard that,” Dane called from the bathroom. “Are you going to stitch this up or let me bleed to death slowly?”

“I’ll be right there!” she called before turning back to her boss. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“I’d love a beer. The flight was a bitch.”

“Dog bite in here! Blood loss!” Dane complained as Colton walked out laughing.

“Colton, this is Supervisory Deputy United States Marshal Josiah Thorne.” Wow, what a mouthful.

“Colton, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Don’t tell him that, he’ll think I like him,” Angel stage-whispered to Colton as she went to the kitchen to get them both a beer. Colton sat across from Thorne, and the two of them started talking about the dog as if they were great friends.

After delivering the beers, she grabbed a bottle of whiskey and headed to the bathroom to take care of her patient.