“Catch me at the hospital. I’m going with Dante,” she told him firmly. Questions could wait. John was dead, and the investigation could be conducted after she made sure Dante was going to be okay. That was her only concern right now.
“He wasn’t authorized to enter the building,” Joe told her as he shook his head, his voice more awed than reproving. “He killed the Windy City Carver. I should be pissed off that he acted on his own, but the man has some balls. We didn’t even think to check the outside of the building because neither room is supposed to have any windows. We figured the killer was already here by the time you entered. He’s one hell of a cop, even if we were supposed to be waiting for backup from SWAT.”
“Yes, he is. And if he hadn’t acted exactly when he did, I’d be dead,” Sarah answered, wanting to tell Chief Landon that Dante was one hell of a man in general, but she hurried after the rolling gurney, not wanting Dante out of her sight.
She clambered into the back of the ambulance, and sat at Dante’s head. His eyes were open again. “Dante? Can you hear me?” Sarah left the exam to the EMTs, knowing she was too emotionally involved to be taking care of Dante medically. Right now she wasn’t a doctor. She was a woman who was tormenting herself about whether or not the man she loved was going to be okay.
“I hear you. Are you okay?” Dante pulled at the restraints on his body that kept him from moving around. His voice was suddenly frantic. “Did the bastard hurt you?”
Sarah put a hand on his shoulder. “Stop fighting. I’m fine. He wasn’t able to do anything other than touch me. You can’t move around right now until you get some X-rays.”
“Thank fuck,” Dante muttered, sounding relieved as he stopped fighting the constraints on his body. “Is the asshole dead?”
“Yes. You killed him,” Sarah replied, knowing it was Dante’s pure stubborn determination that had allowed him to shoot before he succumbed to the blow to his head.
Dante’s brows drew together in concentration. “I remember. I told you to get the fuck away from him. You stopped him with a kick to the nuts. Goddammit, you were supposed to run.”
“I had to do it,” Sarah confessed. “My anger at what he’d done took over, and I wasn’t going to let him get away and live in fear again. I didn’t want him to ever take another woman’s life. I already knew you were injured, and I was pissed.” It felt good to actually say that. She’d acted totally on emotion, something she had never done before she met Dante.
“It worked. But don’t ever do that again,” Dante said grudgingly. “Jesus, he was even more sick and twisted than I thought. Did he really admit to being the Windy City Carver?”
“Yes. When he was talking about the women he raped and killed in Chicago, I figured it out before he even told me. You were right. If a man has the capability to murder, it’s already there. His attack on me didn’t just happen because his wife and Trey died. He was furious because he didn’t have the cover of being a working family man anymore. He didn’t really care about either of them at all.” Sarah’s heart grew heavier when she thought about poor Trey and his mother.
“Completely sociopathic,” Dante replied angrily.
“He was,” Sarah admitted. “He wanted me dead when he caught me in the stairwell. If not for a couple of coincidences, I would have been. If not for you, I would have ended up dead this time. He was ready to cut my throat. I’d just decided I’d rather fight and die by a gunshot wound than let him rape me as I was dying.”
“Fuck. That thought will haunt me forever,” Dante answered savagely.
“No, Dante. It wasn’t meant to torment you. I wanted you to know that you’re the bravest man alive, and you saved my life. It’s just killing me that you were hurt while you were doing it. Again. You just healed.”
“My head hurts like a son of a bitch,” Dante admitted. “I must have hit something.”
“You did. You cracked your head on the stage platform when you grabbed John. I’m worried,” she admitted, running a hand down his cheek lightly. “You were unconscious. I don’t even understand how you stayed coherent enough to shoot him.” Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Just weeks before, after taking several bullets himself, he’d managed to accurately shoot the man who had killed his partner. Dante was an extraordinarily stubborn man, and she’d never complain about that again. That sheer bullheadedness had saved her life.
He grinned up at her. “Don’t worry. I’m hardheaded,” he answered, amusement in his voice.
“That’s what Jared said.” Sarah smiled weakly back at him. She was still worried, but her heart was lighter from seeing him coherent.
“Bastard,” Dante mumbled.
Sarah’s smile grew larger. Obviously it was okay for Dante to be self-deprecating, but he didn’t like hearing it from his brothers. “He was trying to be supportive. I was freaking out a little.”
“You? What happened to my logical and rational woman?”
Sarah wanted to tell him that she hadn’t been sensible since the moment he’d come crashing into her life, and she’d gotten more emotional every day since then. “I think you ruined me.”
“I was scared, too. I was afraid I was never going to see your beautiful face again. I need to touch you,” Dante told her in a husky voice, his eyes tracking over her face.
Still stroking his hair and touching his face, she understood his need, but she replied, “You can’t move right now.”