“Sit down, Non,” Denver said. “I’m okay, but you need to sit down.”
She looked frantically around, and Anya was instantly at her side with arms out.
“Thank you.” Noni set the baby in Anya’s arms and moved forward, dropping to her knees in front of Denver. He had to be okay. There was so much blood. Her ears started to ring. “We need scissors.”
Zara ran in from the kitchen with a first-aid kit and scissors. She handed them over to Ryker, who quickly cut Denver’s shirt away. His stitches had popped open, leaving red and jagged skin bleeding along his rib cage. And bruises, purple and dark red, covered his entire chest. His ribs were swollen and an even deeper purple—almost black.
“What in the world?” Noni breathed, studying the striations.
“Three bullets, but the vest took the impact, just leaving a few broken ribs,” Denver said, looking down at his side. “No new bullet wounds?”
Ryker pulled him forward and ignored his groan as he looked down his back. “Doesn’t look like it. Wait a minute.” He lifted Denver’s arm to show a huge gash. “Good news? The bullet just ripped through you. Bad news? More stitches.”
Denver leaned his head back and groaned. “Wonderful.” Then he opened his eyes. “Heath? Look through those papers while Ryker sews. There has to be something about a safe house for Madison in case her headquarters was infiltrated. You know she has one.” Then he looked at his oldest brother. “Ryker? What’s wrong with your left side?” He poked at Ryker’s vest, lifting his head when Ryker hissed out breath. “Take it off.”
Without waiting for Ryker to argue, Zara immediately went for his vest. Ryker let her with a long-suffering sigh, groaning when she yanked it over his head. “I’m fine. Got shot also . . . maybe a couple of broken ribs.” He reached for the kit with his right hand, leaving his left arm against his body. “Unlike you, no blood.”
“Fair enough.” Denver leaned back again.
Noni reached for antiseptic. “I’m so sorry.” She poured it on the wound.
Denver’s eyes flared, but he didn’t move a muscle. Man, he was tough. She gently wiped the blood away and then shifted to the side so Ryker could begin sewing him up again. After glancing back to reassure herself that Talia was sleeping peacefully in Anya’s arms, she looked toward a wounded Denver. “Where are Jory and his brothers?”
“On the way to Montana,” Heath said, tossing papers across the coffee table and kneeling to read them. “We found printouts and plans of their property up there in Madison’s lab as well as a couple of pictures. So she knows where they are.”
Noni swallowed. “She’s still alive.”
“Yeah,” Denver said. “But not for long. Heath?”
“I’m looking,” Heath said, scouring through papers.
Denver kept his gaze on Noni. “Is the baby okay?”
Noni nodded as Anya kept bouncing Talia, who was giving happy yips. “Yes. You saved her.” How could she ever thank him? “What about Cobb?”
“Dead,” Denver said, no inflection in his tone.
Ah. All right. Noni eyed him. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” He said the word like he meant it. “I’m fine.” He paled as Ryker drew the needle through his skin, but he didn’t protest. “There’s a tree down on the way into this property,” he said. “Took out the electricity.”
Anya slapped Noni gently on the arm. “Told you. Was just the storm.”
Noni grinned. “You were the voice of reason.”
Heath looked up. “Always.” His gaze darkened. “You look good with a baby in your arms.”
Anya blushed and then kept rocking. “I look good anyway.” She rubbed her nose against Talia’s forehead. “Such a sweet baby.”
Noni’s hands started shaking, so she clasped them together. What was happening? She cleared her throat.
Zara looked down at her with concern. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
Denver’s gaze slashed to her. “Take deep breaths. You’re coming down from the adrenaline.” He smiled but still looked pained.
She levered up onto her knees to see Ryker put the needle in again. Her stomach lurched.
