Her mind fled the alternative.

Holding her arm again, JJ leaned against a tree as Gabe, Caz, and Bull walked through the downed fanatics, tossing firearms and knives into the underbrush.

Whining, Gryff ran to Bull, obviously worried he’d be in trouble for fighting.

“You did good, buddy.” Bull ruffled the dog’s fur. “Good dog.”

“You were amazing, Gryff.” Frankie joined them, bending to give the dog a hug and whisper in his furry ear, “You saved me.”

When she straightened, the dog’s ears were up, the tail waving proudly.

“How bad are you hurt, Frankie?” Bull swept her with a quick gaze, then pulled her against him and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Fuck, you scared me—saved me from getting shot, thank you—but fuck. How badly are you hurt?”

“Not bad. Mostly my calf.” Her voice cracked. She’d never felt anything as reassuring as his arms around her. She was starting to shake.

“Let’s see. Yeah, you’re bleeding.” He pulled a bandana out of one of the pockets on his personal armor and wrapped her leg tightly enough to make her squeak.

When he straightened, she gripped his arm so she could give him a quick survey. Nothing pouring blood, nothing obviously broken. She went up on tiptoes and kissed his jaw. “Thanks.”

“Always.” He turned at a call from Gabe.

Frankie took a step and realized something was missing. Her jo. Wiping sweat and blood from her face, she spotted it off to one side. Dark, wet streaks smeared the wood. Breathing through her nose, she picked it up.

“Done, mamita.” Caz had finished tying a bandage around JJ’s arm. They headed toward Gabe.

“Fucking bitch.” A PZ on the ground grabbed JJ’s ankle.

Yanking her leg out of his grip, JJ kicked him in the gut.

“Güey.” Caz shook his head reprovingly at the puking man. “Such poor life choices.”

It wasn’t funny, but Frankie started to laugh, half-hysterically, and had to grit her teeth to stop.

“Move out.” Gabe signaled something to Bull, then took the lead at a fast walk, limping worse than before.

Caz and JJ followed Gabe.

Gryff at his side, Bull watched them move out, then motioned to her. “I’ve got rear guard. Go in front of me, sweetheart.”

Frankie kept her mind on moving forward. Her injured leg was on fire, and…cazzo, more and more aches kept rising. Shivers coursed across her body until it was hard to hold her staff.

She’d never wanted to be safe and snuggled down in her New York condo so much in her whole life.

Yet…

She heard Bull’s soft footsteps behind her. Guarding from the rear. The man who’d risked his life for Kit and Aric, for the PZ’s victims.

For her.

And she knew there was nowhere she’d rather be than with him.