Fuck. He pressed his hand against the wound and lifted her, sliding in the blood but continuing beyond the van to his truck. He’d take the van, but he didn’t trust Fletcher not to have booby trapped it just in a case. “Hold on, baby. Just hold on.” He left a trail of blood from them both on the ice as he careened through the open gate and ran down the fence line to his truck. “You’re going to be all right.” The words tumbled out of him, not making a lot of sense, as he jumped inside and settled her head in his lap, his hand pressed against her injury while he started the truck.
She mumbled something.
He pressed the gas pedal hard, steering with one hand. “Whatis it? Gemma?”
She stirred and then groaned, her hand moving to cover his over her cut. “Trudy.”
“Trudy is fine. Her fever is gone and she’s absolutely fine,” he said, having no clue whether it was true or not. “She needs you, Gemma. Stay awake. Stay with me.” He barreled around a snow berm in the middle of the road, searching for the lights of the city. They were so far away. “I love you. So much. Please don’t leave me.” The truck’s tires spun up gravel as he neared an interstate on-ramp and took it too fast. Then he prayed to a God he’d forgotten, promising everything.
“Take care of Trudy,” Gemma whispered, her face turned to the side and covered byher thick hair.
He couldn’t release the wheel or her wound to brush the hair aside, so he just sped up. “You’ll take care of Trudy. We all will. You have to hold on.”
His phone buzzed and he hit a button on the steering wheelwith his thumb.
“It’s Wolfe. Nothing at the school and I’m driving back tothe hospital.”
“I’ve got her. Headed to the hospital. She’s wounded, Wolfe.” Jethro passed a minibus on two tires.
Wolfe was quiet for a moment. “I’ll send out the word and we’ll meet you there, Brother.” Theline went dead.
Gemma didn’t move.
Jethro drove faster, found his exit, and drove through silent streets to the hospital. He careened to a stop at the front door. Wolfe was already running outside to help him carry her from the vehicle. “It’s bad.”
They made it inside and got her onto a gurney, where the doctors rushed her away for surgery.
Then silence. Jethro looked at Wolfe, who was watching the spot where the gurney had disappeared.
Wolfe turned and studied him, his eyes narrowing. “Holy shit. How bad are you hurt?” His face wavered in and out, like the image in a carnival mirror.
Jethro tilted his head. “Huh?”
Wolfe was already reaching for him before the ground came up and swallowed him whole.
Then…darkness.
Chapter Forty-Two
The world was nicely hazy. Gemma opened her eyes and white ceiling tiles came into view.
“Hey, there.” The British accent wassexy and calm.
She slowly turned her head to see her Brit lounging in a chair, pretty much covered in bruises and bandages. “Jethro,” she squawked.
“Yeah.” He pressed a button and the head of her bed slowly rose. Something beeped behind her, and IVs poured liquid into her veins. “You scared me there, lady.”
She shook her head to gain her bearings, and memories of the night came crashing back. She stiffened. “Trudy.” Then she saw her daughter on his lap, cuddled beneath her green blankie. “What?” Why was the girl out of the hospital bed? Whatwas happening?
Trudy jerked and then sat up, rubbing her eyes with her littlefists. “Mama?”
Was she dreaming? Gemma swallowed, noting pain in her right side. It wasn’t bad, but that could be because the entire world wasfuzzy. “Trudy?”
Jethro leaned over and patted her hand. “She’s okay. Perfectly fine really.”
“In bed,” Gemma said, lifting her hand as the room finally came into focus. “She should be in bed.”
“Yeah,” Trudy said, reachingfor her mother.
