But only when their conversation was broken by a gunshot did she even think to properly look about her. And only after Griff shoved her into an alley, hissing in pain, did she acknowledge the danger. “Griff?” she whispered, gripping his jacket as he hissed through his teeth. He shook his head. “I’ve been shot, love. Not badly. You lead, I’ll follow.” She stared at him in shock, not quite comprehending. How could he have been shot?
