“I think... I’d like that,” I managed. “If you would.”
He drew breath, but we were interrupted by sounds coming from the hospital room outside.
“Heath? Jez?” Knox’s muffled voice filtered past the closed door and the sound of running water.
“We’re cleaning up! Out in a minute!” Heath called back, color rising to his cheeks above his beard. The flush of pink highlighted the scars on his face and neck where he’d clawed his own skin to shreds while he was in rut, in an attempt to maintain control.
He briskly soaped himself, avoiding my eyes.
“Rinse your hair,” he muttered.
We emerged wearing our underwear, covered up with stupid-looking hospital gowns. Mine was too big for me; Heath’s was too small for him.
Despite feeling ridiculous, I couldn’t help a twinge of sympathy for Knox—still limping and covered in dust. If he had opinions about coming back to the room to find us in the shower together, he kept them to himself. I suspected Heath and I were equally thankful for that fact.
“Did you get any news on the others?” Heath asked, once more vibrating with tension.
Knox looked longingly at one of the chairs. Seeming to realize that if he sat down in it, he’d make the chair as filthy as he was, he sighed heavily and remained standing. “Gage is in surgery for several broken bones. Tony has a mild concussion, but he’s surprisingly not in bad shape, all things considered. They should be bringing him up here to join us before long.”
Heath sagged with relief in response to the news about Tony. The way it transmitted through the bond made me feel lightheaded.
“Will Gage be okay?” I asked.
“His prognosis is guarded, but positive,” Knox said. At my blank look, he added, “In other words, he’s badly hurt, but they think he’ll recover.”
I closed my eyes.
Alive. They’re both alive. Focus on that.
“Is there anything else we have to know right now?” Heath asked. “Because if not, you need to take a shower and sit down for a bit.”
Knox shook his head tiredly. “That’s all for now. We’ll all have plenty to talk about later, though.”
His tone went hard on the last sentence, and I shivered. Even now, it was hard to remember that the granite in his voice probably wasn’t because of me.
“Paolo?” Heath said.
I looked at him sharply.
“Sorry,” he went on, addressing me directly. “There’s too much going on; I didn’t think to tell you. After you left, Knox and I pulled Paolo free of the rubble. We kept him from bleeding to death until the medics got to him.”
“It’s just possible he’s learned a valuable life lesson about how much value he holds in Lorenzo Vozzina’s eyes,” Knox added. “Which is to say,none.”
I put two and two together. “You believe Vozzina planted the bomb, and he made sure Adrian—Paolo—was going to be right there at ground zero when it went off. You think Paolo will be pissed off enough to rat him out?”
If so, this washuge. Game-changing, even. As much as I hated the idea of having any further contact with the omega who’d lied to me and betrayed me, he was one of the few people who might be in a position to bring the Vozzina pack down for good.
“We’ll see,” was all Knox would say.
After that, he disappeared into the bathroom, giving in to the lure of the shower. The sound of running water followed a minute later. Heath and I waited in awkward silence, both of us too tightly strung to rest as we waited for whatever happened next.
The first person to show up at our hospital room wasn’t Tony, but rather Knox’s driver.
“Bud,” Heath greeted, meeting him at the door.
I hung back, feeling uncomfortable in my shapeless hospital smock in front of a man I barely knew.
“Heath,” Bud said, sounding harried. “I got a call from the boss saying to bring clothes and toiletries. Was anyone badly hurt?”
