Shadow Men – 32 – Rafe and Steele

Rafe flew back when the bullet hit him. His attacker landed beside him, his life's blood darkening the carpet as it drained from the holes in his back and chest.

Steele made his way to Rafe and dropped down on one knee. "How bad?"

"Not good, but I've had worse." Rafe groaned as he tried to sit up, and again when Steele helped him. "I'm not using this arm for a while," he stated between gritted teeth. "And you?"

"More blood than damage, I think. You know head wounds." He rubbed a hand across his face to wipe the blood off before it got into his eyes. "Broken?" he asked Rafe.

"Or fractured. Fuck." Rafe caught movement from behind Steele and used his shoulder to shove him to the side just as a third man appeared to take a shot at them. "Where's the cavalry when we need them," he growled as he returned fire, glad once again that he could shoot equally well with either hand. He hit the man, but not close to fatally. The man spun to the side, aimed his gun at Rafe, and let out a shout of surprise when a knife became impaled in his chest. Before he could react Steele was on him. He pulled the blade free and slit the man's throat.

"You know there are more on their way down," Rafe said as he struggled to his feet.

Steele nodded. "That last one was the van driver if I'm not mistaken. None of the others was his accomplice, so one at least." He put an arm around Rafe's waist. "The office."

"Defensible, so yeah," Rafe agreed.

They made it there with no more attackers appearing. Rafe sank down into a high-backed chair while Steele barricaded the door. When he finished, Steele came to kneel beside Rafe. "Let me see," he said as he carefully ran his hands over Rafe's bloody upper arm. Rafe bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying out. "Fractured, I'd say," Steele told him. "Don't move."

"Not planning on it until necessary," Rafe stated almost angrily.

"At least it hit bone, not arteries or you'd be bleeding out, not just making a mess on the carpet." Steele looked around, saw what he needed and crossed the room. Rafe heard a loud crack and moments later Steele was back with a chair slat in his hand. "Hold this here," he told his partner, pressing it against Rafe's arm. Rafe did. Steele searched the desk drawers, found a roll of strapping tape, and used it to secure the makeshift splint. "Ain't gorgeous, but it should work for now."

Rafe nodded, his eyes closing as he rested his head against the back of the chair and tried to fight off the pain. Steele watched with a mixture of worry and amusement. "You'd sleep at your own wedding," he said under his breath.

"I heard that," Rafe replied. "And a trip to Canada sounds good to me right now, to test that theory."

"When we get out of here," Steele said softly.

Rafe's eyes sprang open. "You serious?"

Steele shrugged. "Sure, why not."

"Damn," Rafe whispered. Finally he'd heard the words he'd been afraid to utter himself. Not exactly a down on the knees proposal but as close to one as he'd probably get. He smiled as he touched Steele's cheek.

If the circumstances had been less dire they might have kissed to seal the deal but the sound of footsteps approaching the room had them instantly alert. Steele held his pistol at the ready, waiting for whoever was on the other side to try to open the door.