Someone caught her around the waist, keeping her from reaching Gunnar. “He’s wearing plates,” the voice she now recognized as Talon’s said. “He’ll have one hell of a bruise, but he’ll live.”
“Gunnar.”
“I promise he’s fine. I swear it.”
He could promise and swear all he fricking pleased. Until she saw it with her own two eyes, she wasn’t going to believe it.
“Boss, it’s time to hang up your damn boots,” someone, she thought it was Tyrone, said. “This is three missions in a fucking row.”
“It’s a bruise, I’ll get over it.”
Relief hit her so hard, if Talon hadn’t been holding her, she’d have hit the dirt with a slap she’d have felt for a month. “Bruise?” she screeched. “Bruise, you got shot.” At least she was assuming that was what had happened while she’d been cowering in the corner like a freaking ninny. She was vaguely aware of people coming out of houses, of yelling, and a lot of noise, but all she could focus on was Gunnar.
“I swear, I’m okay.” Gunnar’s voice sounded pained, and his hand was pressed against his chest, but the other reached for her. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
Jorja dropped to her knees next to him. “No, I only just woke up.” How on earth was he worried about her? He was shot. SHOT!
“Let’s get you on your feet.” Tyrone stuck his hands under Gunnar’s arms and hauled him up.
“What are you doing? Get him a stretcher or…”
“Baby.” Gunnar cupped her face with one hand and drew her closer. “I promise, I’m hurt but I’m fine. The day I need a stretcher to leave a mission is the day I hang up my damn boots.”
That sounds awesome.
She smacked at Tyrone’s arm. “Find that stretcher, now. Right now.”
“Sorry, Ma’am. The boss walks his ass to the helo, then I’ll strap him down for you to beat him.”
How could they not understand? Gunnar had been shot. But before she could figure out how to make them listen, they were already onboard the helicopter. She caught a glimpse of a body bag and swallowed hard against the immediate sour taste in her mouth. “I don’t think I’m cut out for this.”
“Shh, baby,” Gunnar whispered against her hair. “We don’t need to figure out anything right this second.” He raised his voice. “Michaels, get your ass on my fucking bird, because I have questions and you are the only one who can give me the answers.”
Jorja narrowed her eyes in confusion when a voice she recognized as one of the men who had held her captive answered.
“Yes, Sir.”
“I’m so confused.”
“You and me both, baby,” Gunnar replied as if she’d asked him a question. “We’ll figure it out.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“How is she?”Talon and Zombie both stood as soon as he opened the door of his suite. From the second they’d arrived in Agadir from Yemen, his brother and the dog had made it their business to guard the door.
“Sleeping.” Gunnar jerked his chin toward the inside of the room. “Will you and Zombie stay here while I go downstairs?” The last thing he wanted to do was leave her, but he had no choice. He doubted Michaels had many answers for him, but he wanted the man to look him in the eye and tell him he didn’t.
“Of course.” Talon clicked his fingers and pointed to the door. Zombie took his owner at his word and brushed past Gunnar’s knee and into the room.
By the time Talon had come in and the door was shut, Gunnar caught a glimpse of Zombie’s tail as he disappeared into the bedroom. “Shit.” He crossed the room, ready to call the dog back, but when he peered into the room, it was to see Zombie curled up next to Jorja and his woman’s fingers buried into the dog’s fur. The dog lifted his lips, showing his teeth as if daring Gunnar to order him to move.
All right, you can stay.
“He didn’t wake her, right?”
“Nope.” He shook his head in response to his brother’s question. “He curled up next to her like she’s his. Asshole even growled at me.”
Talon smirked. “You’ve got competition, bro. Zombie saved her. As far as he’s concerned, she is his.”
