The ambulance was pulling in. “I need to get outside.”
Rushing out the door, he met the two-person team. “Just inside,” he told them. “Female, thirty-three, GSW to the lower back, no exit, possible spinal involvement. Conscious, but losing blood. Military medevac inbound. We need you to prep for handoff.”
As they rushed inside, Erik waited for the helicopter to flag it since he didn’t have smoke to pop. But for the three vehicles parked close to the building, the back lot was empty, leaving plenty of room for the bird to land. As he waited, his mind played on an obsessive loop. He’d done this. He’d cost Jayla her legs.
He saw Chloe come out, her arms hugged tightly around herself. She was shivering, and he reached into the back of the ambulance for a Mylar blanket, draping it over her shoulders and keeping his arm around her. “How are you holding up?”
She didn’t look up at him, but stared straight ahead. “Did you kill him?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Is Jayla going to be okay?”
“She’s a Beast. She was made tough.”
Another nod, and Chloe finally looked up at him. “What happens now?”
He knew she wasn’t asking about the next few minutes or hours. “Now, you take your life back.”
“And you? Will you be in that life?”
“If you’ll have me.” Leaning down, he captured her lips with his. Chloe turned into his embrace, her mouth opening for him as she wrapped an arm around him and pressed her body against his.
He picked up the low thump-thump of rotor blades in the distance and broke the kiss to look up at the sky. “That’s Jayla’s ride.”
Chloe stayed close to him as they watched the approach. The helicopter angled in, kicking up dust in the downdraft, and Erik shielded her with his body.
Leo was the first out, followed by Perrin, and then Black Bay’s paramedics disembarked. The medics rushed inside.
“What happened?” Perrin asked, her voice raised to be heard over the noise of the rotors.
“Jayla was extracting Chloe when she was struck by a stray bullet.”
Perrin’s lips pressed tightly together in a grimace as she nodded.
Leo emerged from the building, followed by the medics carrying a stretcher. Jayla was strapped in, ready to fly, with an oxygen mask covering the lower portion of her face. Erik followed, and once she was secured inside, he took her hand. Her eyes were closed, her fingers were icy cold, and her skin was too pale.
“We gotta go, sir!”
He nodded and leaned in close to Jayla’s ear. “You hang in there. You hear me? You’re not done yet.”
Her eyes opened, and he saw her lips curve through the clear plastic mask as she squeezed his fingers.
“I’ll see you soon.”
Releasing her, he moved back, giving the helicopter room to lift off, and returned to Chloe’s side.
“You didn’t want to go with her?” Chloe asked once the noise from the helicopter had faded enough for her to speak without raising her voice.
He did, but just because Savoy was dead didn’t mean Erik’s job was finished. He still needed to brief the general, arrange a clean-up, and secure both Chloe and Lattie. “I’ll see her later. Once she’s stable.”
“I want to go with you.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
A team had arrivedat the opera house to remove Jackson’s body… God, Jackson was dead. Chloe still hadn’t fully processed that. It seemed like she should feel more. Grief, relief, something. Maybe it was the shock, and the full impact would hit her later, but right now, his death wasn’t even on her radar. She was worried about Jayla. Worried about Erik. Worried about Lattie.
Poor Lattie. Even after she’d helped him clean Jayla’s blood off his hands, he’d sat there, silently staring at his palms with a haunted expression until his husband, Quinn, had arrived and he’d suddenly burst into tears. Quinn had held him, comforted him as best as he could before he’d led him out to take him home.
