“Axel somebody and the guy who talked with you.” Her cool fingers found his, squeezing gently. “Killian said he set you up.”
“Damn it. I knew he was lying.” The surge of anger sent another wave of pain through his chest, forcing a groan through his gritted teeth.
“Rawley, relax. You’re going to hurt yourself.” Worry etched lines around her mouth.
“I already hurt. I want out of here. I want to talk to them.” He tried to push himself up, IV tubes pulling taut, but pain made him stop.
“That is not going to happen, Agent Bowman.” The authoritative voice from the doorway belonged to a man with salt-and-pepper hair and a stern expression.
“Dave…” Rawley sighed, recognizing defeat.
“Nope. Not happening, Rawley.” Dave crossed his arms over his chest. “You will take time off to heal. Those men will be taken care of. Killian’s on it.”
“It’s my case.” Rawley’s voice was hoarse.
“Okay. You show me you can get out of that bed, and I’ll let you talk to them.” Dave smirked, his weathered face crinkling at the corners, badge glinting under the fluorescent lights.
Rawley shook his head, wincing at the movement. “You know I can’t.”
“I do. You have a collapsed lung and two cracked ribs. You are not coming back until a doctor releases you to return to duty. That’s that.” Dave’s tone was firm; his shoulders squared beneath his shirt.
“Yes, sir.” Rawley huffed. “Alright, but please keep me in the loop.”
“Killian will,” Dave said then looked at Skylar, his gaze softening at the sight of her. “Ma’am, I’m this stubborn man’s boss, Dave Merkle.”
“Skylar McCoy. It’s nice to meet you.” She offered a small smile; her fingers still intertwined with Rawley’s.
“You too. I just wanted to stop in and see how you’re doing, Rawley. You take it easy.”
“I will.”
“I’ll make sure he does,” Skylar said, her tone gentle but resolute.
Dave nodded, a knowing look crossing his face. “I’d listen to her if I were you. She looks like she can handle you.”
Rawley chuckled, then hissed in a breath, his free hand instinctively moving to his bandaged chest. “Damn.”
“I’ll see you soon.” Dave looked at Skylar, tipping his head respectfully. “Ma’am.” Then he walked out, his heavy footsteps fading down the antiseptic-scented corridor.
Rawley held Skylar’s hand and squeezed it until she looked at him, the moonlight shining through the window.
“I’ll have Killian get my dogs.”
“I can get them. In fact, I’ll go tomorrow before I come here.” Her thumb traced circles on the back of his hand.
“Are you sure?” His eyes searched hers.
“Yes, of course.” Her voice was warm, unwavering.
Rawley nodded. “Could you do me a favor?”
“Yes, what is it?” She leaned closer, the scent of her vanilla perfume momentarily masking the clinical hospital smell.
He grinned. “Kiss me.”
She laughed. “My pleasure.” She carefully leaned over him, her hair creating a curtain around their faces as she pressed her soft lips to his. He lifted his hand, cupped her cheek, lifted his lips, then stared into her eyes, which were bright with unshed tears.
“Do you know what I thought when I was shot?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
