I grabbed the vodka on the counter and took a drink. “I was shot—obviously.”
She was my servant, but she didn’t hesitate to give me an attitude. She glared at me before she took the warm towel and wiped away the dried blood that stuck to the skin of my shoulder. “Don’t be a smartass.” When all the blood was wiped away, she grabbed her tweezers and gently slipped the tips inside my flesh to fetch the bullet.
I took another drink even though I didn’t care for vodka.
The sound of quick footsteps ended the kitchen, and Arwen’s gasp entered my ears a moment later. “Oh shit…” She came to my side and watched Abigail pull the bullet out of my flesh and drop it onto the plate sitting on the counter. Arwen’s hands gripped my healthy arm, and she looked terrified by the scene that unfolded in front of her. “Are you alright?”
“If I were going to die, it would have happened hours ago.” I watched Abigail open her suture kit and begin to close the wound.
“Maverick.” She kept staring at me, her hand gripping my arm. “What happened?”
“Is that not obvious?” I asked, still being a smartass.
“If you weren’t being sutured right now, I’d slap you.” She was in a black nightdress, a halter top that was so thin, it showed her hard nipples through the fabric. It was difficult to believe we’d been fucking just twelve hours ago. Now a bullet had just been pulled out of me.
“I’d help you.” Abigail kept her eyes on her hands, closing up the wound with the thread.
“Should you go to a hospital?” Arwen asked.
“No.” I never went to the hospital. I’d have to be on my death bed to resort to that.
“And you don’t think you should?” Arwen asked incredulously.
“No. I’ve been shot before—not a big deal.” My father certainly thought it was nothing to worry about.
Abigail finished her task then closed everything up. “I’ll get you some antibiotics tomorrow just to make sure you don’t get an infection.”
“Thanks, Abigail.” I rolled down my shirt sleeve and hopped off the stool.
Arwen followed me. “Are you sure you’re okay? Who gets shot and brushes it off like that?”
“Men.” I headed up the stairs.
She stuck to my side. “What happened tonight? Is your father okay?”
I wished he weren’t okay. “We got Ramon. He’s in the barn.”
“Here?” she asked in surprise. “Why?”
Because that’s what my father wanted…and he always got what he wanted. “It’s convenient.”
“So you’re going to torture him a couple of acres away?” She followed me all the way up the stairs and to the hallway that led to my room.
“Yep.” I reached my bedroom and walked inside, eager to take a shower to wash off all the grass and dried blood. “I’m not in the mood for chitchat. Get out so I can go to sleep.”
“How can I leave you alone when you’ve just been shot?”
Instead of being touched by her concern, I was just annoyed. “There’s nothing you can do for me. Now, let me go to sleep.” I started to strip off my clothes without waiting for her to leave. She’d already seen me naked, so it didn’t matter.
She stood by the door, still watching me with that concerned gaze.
“Don’t make me ask you again.” I didn’t want to be an ass when her only crime was compassion, but I was seriously not in the mood tonight. “I’ve been up for almost thirty-six hours. We aren’t doing this now.”
“You’ll say the same thing in the morning.”
Yeah, I probably would.
“I know there’s something bothering you, something you’re keeping from me.” With her arms crossed over her chest, she watched me like she was reading words that appeared on my forehead.
My father couldn’t care less if I died…that was the secret I was keeping from the whole world. “It’s none of your business, Arwen. Now, get the fuck out—before I make you.”
20
Arwen
When I came down for breakfast the next day, Maverick was nowhere to be seen. “Did he already leave for work?”
“No.” Abigail stood at the sink and washed the dishes she’d used to make breakfast. “He’s resting in bed today. I told him if he moved, he wouldn’t get anything to eat. He made the right call and decided to stay put.”
“Good.” He shouldn’t be running around with a wound like that. “Anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t think there’s anything anyone can do. Mr. DeVille can be a bastard sometimes…” Abigail was a woman in her midforties, someone who was a faithful servant but also spoke her mind. And her heart seemed to be in the right place. “All we can do is hope he gets the rest he needs. But you know how he is…”
Yes, he was a huge bastard. “Yeah, I do.”
I headed to the third floor and walked down the hallway to his bedroom. The door was closed, so I tapped my knuckles against the wood, thinking of the time I’d spied on him when he was fucking someone. It was a huge violation of his privacy, but I couldn’t help it…and I didn’t regret it. It led to me getting the best night of sex in my life.