One ring. Two.
“This better be a goddamned emergency, Doc. It’s the middle of the night, and the last time we spoke, I told you to go fuck yourself.”
Anger prickles over my skin. If this weren’t life and death—mylife and death—I’d call someone else.Anyoneelse. I’d like to rip McCabe a new one. But I can’t. Not yet.
“Some asshole…shot my fuel tanks. Plane went down. South of Lopez Island. Need medical. Soon.”
A baby wails in the background, and McCabe’s wife starts to sing some nonsense song about the moon and rainbows to calm the kid down.
“Define soon.”
“Not…a fucking…dictionary. Look it up.”
“For fuck’s—fudge’s—sake, Doc. Can the SEAL take a boat to your location or does he need to get a helo?”
Next to me, Nat jerks, then mouths,“A helo?”
If I weren’t so bad off, I’d chuckle at the shock in her eyes.
“Doc? I need an answer. It’ll be thirty minutes for the helo. Plus however long it takes Raelynn to get to Boeing Field and fuel up. A little under an hour for the RHIB.”
A spasm of pain rolls through me, and my vision tunnels. “Had to…walk Nat…through putting in…a chest tube. My lung could…collapse again any minute. Send…the helo.”
“Roger that,” Ryker says, all business, like I didn’t just wake him up from a sound sleep and demand he save a dying man he hates. Hell, he didn’t even ask who Nat was. “Keep your phone on. I’ll call you back when they’re close.”
He hangs up before I get a chance to say thank you. Or anything at all.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Natasha
“Whowasthat?”For five full minutes, I’ve been trying to work up the courage to ask, though I’m not sure I truly want to know.
Doc tries to roll onto his uninjured side, but hisses out a breath and stops. “Fuck, that hurts. I’ll take…a little of that morphine…now.”
“How much?” I check each one of the clear vials until I find the one he needs.
“Four milligrams. In my upper arm.” He’s shivering, so once I give him the shot, I stretch out next to him. Gently, I ease his arm around my shoulders and rest my head on his shoulder.
“Is this okay?” The last thing I want to do is cause him more pain. It’s getting colder out here. He’s not wearing a shirt, and I’m only in short sleeves and thin pajama pants. The blood soaking the material from my hip is no longer warm, and pretty soon, we’ll both be in trouble. The lights are still on, but the heater cut out with the engine.
He nods, and I reach up to link our fingers.
“So…about the guy you called…?” He never answered my question, and I need to know before these men come and take me to the nearest police station.
“McCabe was Special Forces. He runs a K&R firm…in Seattle. I used to…help them out sometimes. Enough they won’t leave me out here.”
Shit. Special Forces. If this McCabe gets a whiff of who I am, my life could be over. Hell, even if doesn’t, I’m compromised. Parker found me. That means Bastian knows where I am. I have to get the fuck away from Doc. And everyone I’ve ever known.
“Nat?” Doc coughs weakly. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I force myself to relax, hoping he won’t press me.
“I’m depending on you, baby,” he whispers. “You’re the only one who…can keep me alive. Tell me the truth.”
Shit. This man is much more perceptive than I gave him credit for. Even hopped up on morphine.
“Someone just tried to kill me. We’re in the middle of Puget Sound, and I just cut a hole in your side. That’s not enough to be upset about?”
