Something flickered in Dixon’s dark eyes, but it was gone too quickly for her to figure out what it was. “How bad was he?”
Khaki tried to report in the same calm, professional voice Trevor and Alex used. But the moment she opened her mouth, her throat locked up and she could barely get the words out.
“The…the surgeon came out a little while ago and said they had to open him up. The bullet fragments nicked a lot of vital areas, and a big piece is lodged in the wall of his heart. The doctor couldn’t believe Xander even lived long enough to get him on the operating table. He said Xander was still holding on, but he…he warned me…us…to prepare for the worst.”
Tears stung Khaki’s eyes. She didn’t bother to wipe them away when they ran down her cheeks. She’d been telling herself the doctor had been wrong, that he just didn’t know how strong Xander was. But now, standing here in the middle of the hospital with its pungent antiseptic odor and the rest of the Pack around her, she wasn’t sure about that.
No one said anything for a long time, and when Khaki finally lifted her head, it was to see Dixon regarding her with that same curious expression. She tried to wipe the tears away, aware that she was acting way too emotional about a fellow cop getting shot. But fresh tears fell, taking their place.
“Khaki, is there something going on between you and Xander that I should know about?” Dixon asked quietly.
She wanted to lie and say there wasn’t, but with Xander lying on an operating table, she couldn’t. It would feel like she was denying everything he meant to her. She blinked back another rush of tears and nodded.
Dixon swore. “What the hell were you two thinking?”
Khaki didn’t answer. What could she say? That she knew being with Xander was wrong? That would be a lie. Falling in love with Xander wasn’t wrong, and if that cost her the job, it was a small thing to give up to be with him.
Dixon remained silent, waiting for her to say something. One by one, the guys in the squad moved a little closer to her—first Cooper, then Becker and Max, followed by Alex, and finally Trevor and Hale. Their show of support made her start crying all over again.
“Okay, this isn’t the time or the place to talk about this, Khaki,” Dixon said. “But when Xander wakes up, we are going to talk about it.”
Giving her one more disapproving look, he strode off and pulled out his phone. Khaki heard him talking to Mike on the other end, telling him to get some of the guys out to the bank on Preston and figure out who that shooter was.
Right then, she cared as much about the sniper as she did about her career. All that mattered was lying on an operating room table, fighting for his life. If Xander survived, she didn’t need anything else. And if he didn’t, she wouldn’t care about anything else.
Chapter 14
Xander woke with a jerk. The sudden movement sent a harpoon of pain lancing through his chest. He opened his eyes, trying to figure out where he was and why he hurt, but that didn’t help much when the room started to fade to black. He closed his eyes again, fighting the wave of darkness threatening to overwhelm him. It felt like he’d been hit by a damn freight train.Whatthehellhappened?
He took slow, steady breaths, searching his memory. Things came back in a rush, playing through his head like a movie on fast-forward. He remembered getting shot in the chest outside the bank, remembered Khaki on her knees beside him, remembered her begging him to keep fighting and telling him that she loved him. Most of all, he remembered her bleeding.
She’d been shot too.
Gritting his teeth against the pain, Xander pushed himself up into a sitting position. Or tried to. He didn’t get very far before a firm hand on his shoulder pushed him back down.
“Whoa, take it easy, babe.”
Khaki’s voice was soft in his ear, her breath warm where it caressed his cheek. Her scent enveloped him, taking away whatever pain he’d felt. He relaxed against the pillow and opened his eyes to see her leaning over him, relief in her gaze. He’d gladly volunteer to get shot in the chest once a week if it meant being able to wake up to her beautiful face for the rest of his life.
Thank God she was okay. He opened his mouth to ask her, just to make sure, but she gently shushed him.
“You’ve been out of it for a while,” she said. “Take your time.”
As long as he could do it while gazing at her, he was okay with that. He only hoped some doctor or nurse didn’t interrupt them.
Now that he thought about it, the room didn’t feel like a hospital. Or smell like one either. He was in a hospital bed with an IV tube stuck in one arm and a bunch of wires running from under his blanket to a monitor somewhere behind him. But everything else seemed…off.
The walls weren’t the usual depressing institutional beige. The comfy chair by the window was real leather. And the partially drawn curtains looked expensive even to him, and he didn’t know a damn thing about curtains.
He looked at Khaki. “Where am I?”
“You’re in a private recovery center that Sergeant Dixon arranged for you,” she said.
Xander’s mouth fell open in shock, and Khaki laughed. While it was good to hear her laugh, Xander was having a hard time with the bombshell she’d dropped about being in a private recovery center.
“Gage already had this place set up for us?” he asked.
She reached out to gently brush his hair back from his forehead. “I don’t know who he is, or how the boss knows him, but Sergeant Dixon got a doctor into the operating room before they started surgery. The guy’s not a werewolf, but he knows what we are. He had you moved here two nights ago, so no one could see how fast you’re healing but him.”
