Chapter Forty-One

“This is going to hurt,” Angel warned Dane with a frown.

“Oh, good. Thanks for telling me. I thought it was going to feel like kittens—God damn! Son of a bitch! Mother fucker!”

“Nope. Not like kittens.” She hid her laughter as she blotted the excess antiseptic from the wounds. “Just a few more times to make sure the bite marks are cleaned out.”

“I thought they say dogs’ mouths are cleaner than ours.”

“True, but that doesn’t mean theirs are clean, it just means ours are worse.”

“Oh. They should mention that part.”

She tilted her head at him. “They lick themselves, Dane. Do you want that in your wounds?”

“No. Go ahead. Could you blow on it?” Dane’s color was looking a little better, but he was still shaky. He’d lost a lot of blood.

“No. I’m not blowing on it.” She may have rolled her eyes.

“Remember the time that guy ripped a chunk of your hair out? I blew on it for you.”

“Blowing on it makes it worse. The oxygen makes it evaporate even faster, which is what causes the burn.” She couldn’t believe she was having this conversation with an adult.

“Never mind. Your scientific dissertation is more painful than the cleaning.”

After the next round of cursing, which included a few bad names for her future unborn offspring as well as her deceased mother, she gave it one more dousing of antiseptic and set the bottle on the sink to hand him the other bottle. The one containing a different kind of alcohol.

“Do you think this is a good idea?” he asked as she was threading the needle.

“What? You don’t like red? There isn’t any black. It’s this or green.”

“Red’s fine. I’m talking about you being here.”

“What? You don’t trust Colton?” That was ridiculous.

“I don’t trust you with Colton.”

She rolled her eyes and pierced his skin with the needle. He sucked air through his teeth and let it out slowly. She paused as he took another swig of the whiskey. A much bigger swig.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked as she bent her head to continue her work. The important thing was to keep the stitches small so they didn’t scar. Not that it would matter—not with a giant scar just three inches above it.

“I remember you being on his watch and ditching it at a moment’s notice. Justin barely got there before you ran off to go help with another case.”

She shrugged. “So?”

“So you’re emotionally attached to this guy, and being emotionally attached makes people sloppy.”

“I thought that was tequila,” she joked, but it didn’t work.

He gave her the Serious Dane Ryan look. They’d been good friends since he first joined the team four years ago. He’d been her new partner after things with her old partner, Lucas Stone, went south.

Though, south was a bit of an understatement. What had really happened was she’d trusted someone she shouldn’t have because she’d become emotionally attached to him.

Christ, she was making Dane’s case for him.

“If you get caught by law enforcement, you’re screwed.” Dane winced when the thread caught. “We need more time to prove this murder isn’t on you.”

“I’m not going to get caught.” At least she hoped not.

“When push comes to shove, we never leave the people we love.”

“Are you saying you’re in love with me?” she asked. Dane had never left her when she’d needed him. She batted her eyes at him and stuck out her bottom lip.

“I love you like a bratty little know-it-all sister. If this guy hurts you or causes you to get caught, I will end him.” Dane winced as she jabbed him again.

“Ah. You’re going to end the guy with the attack dog?” She smiled up at him like the bratty little sister he accused her of being.

“Stop chatting. You’re only on the first bite mark.” He took another large sip from the bottle.

She concentrated on sewing up all four wounds, then sighed at her work. “I think your modeling career is over, but they’ll hold. Keep an eye on them for infection.”

“I will. Thanks.” He pulled up his pants and scowled at Pudge, who had taken a spot outside the bathroom door. “I hate you.”

“That’s not nice. He’s still a puppy.”

To help sell it, Pudge rested his chin on his front paws and looked up at Dane with those big brown eyes.

“Is that how it happened? You fell for the eyes and didn’t see the fangs?”

She knew Dane wasn’t talking about the dog anymore. “Ha ha.”

“Make sure you don’t get bit.”

Right.

Unfortunately, it was much too late for that.