Ripper is frozen, his eyes glassy, his hands balled into fists at his side.
“Rip? Breathe.” West’s gun shifts almost imperceptibly. “Remember what we talked about last week? What we worked on? You’re going to be okay.”
“The fuck he is.” The man’s hold hasn’t wavered. Even through the haze of exhaustion, I can see the intention in his eyes. “Where. Is. She?”
Behind us, the guest elevator dings. Rip snaps out of his trance, and it’s like someone flipped a switch. He grabs the weapon by the barrel, twists it, and knees the gunman in his family jewels.
“Xavier Francis Tuttle. What the shitsicles are you doing?” Gladys shuffles down the hall, carrying a drink with a little umbrella sticking out of the top of it. A man I’ve never seen before trails after her. Older. Dark blond hair, and clearly not a stranger, since the team doesn’t flinch at the sight of him.
“Gladys? Youknowthis asshole?” West asks. He has the man pinned face down, straddling him with a gun jammed against the back of his head.
“That’s my grandson. Sort of. And he’ssupposedto be in South America.” She huffs. “I told Bella I wasfine. Better than fine even.”
“Gladys,” Xavier mumbles into the carpet, “You were kidnapped.”
“Not by these people!” She marches right up to West and glares at him. “Let Xavier up. He’ll apologize right now.” Turning to Ripper, she pats his cheek. “You are a badass, sonny. Not many people can move faster than my Xavier.”
“I…uh…need a minute,” Rip mumbles and disappears into the room. Another door slams inside.
Graham holsters his weapon. “I’ll stay with him. And call Ry.”
“Everyone get the fuck inside,” West says. “And then we’ll talk about why Clive let Gladys leave the room in the first place, howXaviergot in, and why Wren and Ry didn’t noticeanyof this on the camera feeds.”
Inara pulls a pair of flexi-cuffs from her pocket. “Hands behind your back, asshole.”
“Seriously?” Xavier tries to raise his head, but West jabs the gun harder against his skull. “That’s my goddamn grandmother.”
“You almost killed one of the best men I know,” West says. “So yeah. Seriously.”
Doc
Easing myself down onto the bed, I take the damp cloth and brush it lightly over Natasha’s neck. She only lasted five minutes after we got into the room.
Long enough for Gladys to hug her, and for Xavier to tell West that he got onto the hotel’s roof from the building next door, then accessed one of the elevator shafts. From there, looping the camera feed was, in his words, “challenging, but not impossible.”
He’d just started to tell us that he works with a black ops group based in Mexico when Natasha’s knees buckled, and she pitched into my arms. Raelynn helped me get her into one of the bedrooms, where I found our bags—and my medical kit.
“You want help with her, Doc?”
I should say yes. Icouldsay yes. Only a week ago, I thought Hidden Agenda didn’t give a flying fuck about me. But I was wrong. These men and women are as much family as the men I served with.
Instead, I glance over my shoulder at Raelynn. A few strands of her blond hair have come loose from her braid. A fresh bruise swells on her cheek. “No. I’ll examine her. If she needs to go to a hospital?—”
“You just holler. We’ll make it happen.” She backs out of the bedroom and shuts the door with a quietclick.
“Natasha? Open your eyes for me, baby.” I brush my fingers along her jaw, one of the few places with no fresh bruises. “You’re scaring me.”
Her pulse is weak, but steady. With my thumb, I peel back her left eyelid, and she jerks away from my touch with a little whimper, looking around wildly until her gaze locks on me.
“Doc?”
“You’re safe. We’re both…safe.”
Natasha lunges for me, wrapping her arms around my waist with such force, I hiss out a breath.
“Easy now…”
“Oh, God. I’m sorry!” Scooting back on the bed, she swipes at the fresh tears welling in her eyes. “I didn’t think?—”
