Killian’s face swam above him, panic in his eyes. Rawley’s eyelids weighed tons, heavy as steel shutters dragging down despite the cold terror screaming through his veins.Don’t close them. Don’t close them. He clawed his hand upward, fingers trembling; Killian’s grip crushed his fingers with desperate strength.
“You’re tougher than this. Stay with me, Rawley,” Killian’s voice broke.
Darkness swarmed the edges of his vision like a plague of locusts. “Trying,” Rawley whispered, then coughed on the blood in his mouth.
“Try fucking harder!” Killian’s shout echoed through the trees.
“I’m okay. Someone call Skylar to let her know,” he whispered as he tightened his fingers around Killian’s before the darkness swallowed him whole, a bottomless ocean of nothingness. As he tried to suck air into his failing lung, he groaned as the white-hot pain ripped through him like jagged lightning.
Chapter Seventeen
Skylar’s fingers hovered over the keyboard as she typed the last period. The words ‘The End’ glowed on the screen like a promise fulfilled. A warm smile spread across her face, and she picked up her phone to call her editor, her voice brimming with relief. Then she rose from her swivel chair and stretched, arching her spine and lifting her arms overhead until a satisfying pop loosened the tension in her shoulders.
She walked barefoot into the tiny kitchen. Frost patterned the windowpanes outside, but inside the cabin the air felt snug around her. She filled the kettle, set it to boil, and placed a tea bag into her mug. Steam curled up in lazy spirals while she lingered by the counter, watching the sun streaming through the pine trees.
Tea in hand, Skylar carried her mug to the living room. The cabin was simple, two small bedrooms, a single bathroom, and a fireplace dominated by a hefty stone hearth. She knelt, stacked firewood on the grate, and struck a match. Flames kindled quickly, crackling and sending waves of red, blue, and orange light dancing across the rough-hewn floorboards.
On the sofa, she curled one leg beneath her and clicked the remote. The television flickered to life. She scrolled through her favorites movies until she settled on one. From the corner of her eye, she saw Cosmo, stroll in and leap onto the couch, emitting a soft purr, then settled into a tight ball of fur.
“I have seen this movie so many times. I should find something new,” she murmured as she shifted on the sofa. Cosmo opened one eye and glared up at her before resettling. “Sorry, your majesty.”
A buzz from the arm of the couch startled her. Her phone vibrated, so she reached for it, and saw Rawley’s handsome face.
“Hey,” she answered.
“Skylar?” The voice was calm but clipped.
“Yes, who’s this? Where’s Rawley?”
“Agent Killian Doyle, with MDOL.” His tone made her pulse race. “Rawley’s in Clifton General hospital.”
Her stomach twisted. “Oh, my God! What happened?”
“He was shot last night during a stakeout. He took three rounds to his vest. They’ve diagnosed him with two cracked ribs and a collapsed lung. He’s conscious but in pain. They’re monitoring him around the clock.”
Skylar pressed her free hand to her chest, breath catching. “Could… could he die?”
“A collapsed lung can lead to internal bleeding, infection, even pneumonia. But we got him to the hospital quickly. They did a needle aspiration to remove the air, and a small tube was inserted for a few hours. He’s tough.”
Tears pricked her eyes. “He’s awake? He spoke to you?”
“He was lucid enough to insist I call you before he passed out.”
“Oh dear God.” She hugged her knees, the room spinning.
“Where are you now?”
“In the Sierra Nevada Mountains. I’ll book the first flight out.”
“We’ll meet you in Clifton,” he said. “Three of the five suspects are dead.”
“Good,” she whispered, relief and terror knotted together. “Thank you.”
“You were all he cared about. Be safe.” And with that, the line went dead.
Skylar set the phone on the sofa arm and sat with her face buried in her hands. The fire’s warmth did nothing to thaw the cold dread clutching her heart. She let herself cry, each tear a prayer for Rawley’s life.
After calling the airlines, she packed up her clothes and placed the suitcase by the door and looked at Cosmo. “You're going to hate being cooped up on a plane.”
