Guarding Miranda Read Free Page A

man’s features.
    “Say goodnight , princess,” Barry sneered.
    “Oh God…”
    She looked directly into the man’s face then, too terrified to scream. 
    She looked right into his cruel brown eyes and saw the hint of a smile through the slit of his ski mask, the flash of yellowed, twisted teeth in the dim light.
    A gold-capped tooth flickered as he pulled the trigger and this time she heard the gunshot at the same time that the bullet struck her, in the shoulder, with all the violence of a kick from a horse. 
    The shattering of glass behind her didn’t sound right, somehow, as her momentum carried her back into the driver’s seat. 
    It was funny. 
    Even though her ears rang from the assault of the two gunshots, she heard the footfalls of Barry running away, followed by the squeal of car tires on the concrete.
    Her entire shoulder was numb and she felt something warm running down her back.  Shocked by the turn of events, she found that she could not move her left arm. 
    With her right hand, she touched her fingers to her left shoulder, just above the seam of her gown and then pulled them away, wondering why they were wet.
    She looked at her fingers and wondered why they were sticky with red. 
    It’s blood , she thought, stupidly, examining her fingers closely.
    Why am I leaking blood ?
    It was her last thought, as the shock set into her system and the swift mercy of unconsciousness came to claim her. 
     
    Chapter Two:
     
    Brian was out of his car by the first gunshot and running as fast as he could by the sound of the second.  He saw the man in the black ski mask running away from Richard’s Mercedes and then speed away in the waiting sedan. 
    He watched Richard’s body slump even further to the concrete. He was dialing nine-one-one on his cell phone by the time he was half way across the parking lot. 
    “Miranda!” He yelled hoarsely.
    Oh God, is she alright?
    He couldn’t see her.
    His brain registered the shattered driver’s side window.
    “Miranda, are you okay?” He called even louder, trembling with fear.
    The operator answered just as he got to the Mercedes.
    “Emergency services, how may I direct your call?”
    He saw her form slumped back, the dark blood oozing from her in a steady menacing rivulet.
    “There’ve been two people shot at Tillings Hall.”
    “On Lombard Street?”
    “Yes.” He announced, speaking as quickly as the words would come out with the adrenaline coursing through him, making his voice waver, his hand shake. When he got to the passenger side of the vehicle and saw Miranda’s body laying across the front seat, he was filled with dread. Illness swept through him, nausea coming instantaneously.  “The man is dead, the woman’s bleeding profusely.” 
    “Are you certain-“
    “I know First Aid,” he said, commanding the pace of the call. “I’ll work on her until the ambulance gets here.”
    He glanced at the unmistakable pool of red that was swelling beneath Miranda on the beige leather upholstery of the driver’s seat. “Tell them to hurry.”
    “Is the assailant still in the area?”
    “No – he’s gone.”
    “Can I get your name-”
    “I don’t bloody well have time for this – she’s probably bleeding to death!”
    Brian ended the call with an angry flick and focused on the unconscious woman before him.  Images of his First Aid training came flooding back to him, fleeting visions of instruction on how he should proceed.
    “Elevation and pressure,” he said to himself. “Elevate the wound and apply pressure...”
    Even though he knew that he shouldn’t move her, that she might have sustained a spinal injury, Brian climbed into the car and easily pulled Miranda free.
    He cradled her in his strong arms a moment before setting her on the concrete before him. 
    A bullet casing lay near her head. 
    Brian was careful not to move it, as the police would need it as evidence.
    He took a moment to survey the damage done her.
    Her left shoulder