“Only met him once when I was at Sully’s parents’ horse ranch. Thought he was self-absorbed and immature.”
“He came in to visit Sully this afternoon.” Jane explained what had happened with the machine and how Sully had been in respiratory distress when she arrived. “I confronted him in the waiting room, and he denied shutting off the monitor, but his reaction didn’t inspire much confidence.”
“Shit, Jane.” Red scrubbed his hands over his face. “You confronted him? Sully is going to kick my ass for not getting here sooner. It’s dangerous to back someone into a corner.”
“I didn’t think of it like that, but I guess you’re right. If Bentley does have ill intentions toward Sully, now he knows I’m suspicious.”
“Who was in the room before Bentley?” Thalia asked.
“First me, then I went out to the waiting room so Kelly could see her son. After that, Sully’s dad went in, and last was Bentley. John said the monitor was on when he left the room.”
“I know Kelly and John well. John’s former military and Kelly runs a nonprofit ranch for abused horses. She has somecows and donkeys, too. They live simple. I’m not so sure what Bentley has his hands into, but Sully mentioned he moved to Vegas. I’m going to call our friend Jude. He runs a task force for the Department of Homeland Security and has connections I don’t. I’m interested to see what Bentley’s been up to, but I can’t think of a reason he’d try to purposely hurt his brother.”
“People do bad things,” Thalia said. “Money, jealously, power.”
“Unfortunately, there are no cameras inside the hospital room, so I have no way of knowing or proving Bentley did anything.” Jane’s shoulders slumped as she pulled the blankets up over Sully and repositioned him.
Red nodded and wrapped his arm around his fiancée’s waist. “Then we’ll be vigilant until we know more.”
Chapter Eight
Sully groaned. Everythingached. His chest and lungs felt as though he’d run ten miles in the arctic air and his leg throbbed. He blinked then squeezed his eyes shut against the sun glaring through the wide windows. He tried again, more slowly this time, and took stock of his surroundings. He was in a bed that wasn’t his own, surrounded by walls of white. The hospital. Shit. How long had he been here?
Something soft brushed his arm and he glanced down. Jane. Everything about the mission came rushing back, mainly meeting the beautiful, gutsy woman who was now slumped in an unforgiving hospital chair. Her arms were folded on the mattress and she was face down, asleep. Her dark hair spilled over the white linen sheets and looked so damn soft. His hand trembled as he lifted it. Felt like it was a fifty-pound weight instead of skin and bone.
Unease slid through him at the exertion it took to move his hand less than six inches to rest on the side of Jane’s head, but the feel of the silken strands against his palm was more than worth the effort. He could spend hours stroking this woman’s hair. She stiffened, then raised her head slowly. When their eyes met, she drew in a sharp breath before a smile brightened her face. Watching the worry and tension etched into her expression melt away before his eyes was fucking mesmerizing.
“Welcome back,” she said, eyes going soft.
“Jane.” His voice was a raw croak, like it hadn’t been used in far too long. He let his hand drift down her cheek, in awe that she was still here, before letting it fall back to the sheets. Whether ithad been a day or five since they’d arrived at the hospital, she’d stayed. This woman owed him nothing and he wouldn’t have blamed her for wanting to put the nightmare behind her and go back to her life. “How long, love?” Part of him was scared to know the answer.
She licked her lips and slid her hand toward his, flipping it at the last second so her palm was under his. “When you were transported here, you went right into surgery. Your wound was flushed out and the surgeon was confident she was able to remove all the debris and dead tissue to help the infection heal. You were septic, Sully, and in rough shape. Your sisters arrived first, but they had to go back to the venue. It took your parents and Red and Thalia several days to get a flight from California. Shortly after your parents and brother arrived, you…took a turn.”
“My brother was here?” He couldn’t imagine his little brother stepping away from his fast-paced Vegas lifestyle to come to the hospital.
“You don’t remember?” A shadow passed over her eyes, dimming some of the light that seemed to spear from within.
“No.”
“You were very sedated when they arrived, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember. Something happened, and you aspirated, causing a new infection to start in your lungs. A pneumonia on top of recovering from a septic gunshot wound was extremely hard on your body. Luckily, you were already being treated for a bacterial infection, so you bounced back more quickly than your medical team thought. You’ve been doing so well, they decided to wean you off some of the heavier pain medicines you’ve been taking in hopes of waking you.”
He nodded, and the movement made his head pound. “But how long?”
Jane cleared her throat. “Two weeks.” Her brow wrinkled. “Well, two and a half technically.”
Everything he was thinking and feeling bubbled up in his chest, and for a second, he forgot to breathe. “Two weeks? I’ve been out for over two weeks?”
“Yes, but sepsis is incredibly serious and wreaks havoc on your body. So far, your blood panels haven’t indicated any organ damage, and your medical team thinks you’ll make a full recovery, but you have to take things slow.”
Two fucking weeks. He was stunned at how long he’d been unconscious and even more shocked that Jane had stayed. There were dark shadows under her eyes and not much color in her face. She looked exhausted. Over fourteen days of sitting vigil by his bedside. Christ, he hoped Red had made sure she at least slept in a hotel. He glanced over her shoulder. There was a tiny cot in the corner of the room with a single pillow and a sheet. Warmth hit his eyes, and he blinked back the sting prickling behind his lids.
He swiped his tongue over his lips, finding them surprisingly soft. “Jane—”
“I’ve been putting balm on your lips,” she said dropping her gaze to the sheet she was absently fiddling with. “They were so cracked when we got here and whenever you made the slightest grimace you would have beads of blood running down your chin.”
“Jane,” he prodded again. “Look at me.”
She hesitated, but when her chin came up, there was a frown on her face.
