“All I’m sayin’, Doc, is you don’t need toaskus for help. We’re here. We’ve alwaysbeenhere. You’ve saved all of us at one time or another. Ain’t a single member of this family who’d think twice about returnin’ the favor.”
Dipping my hand into my pocket, I find the heart-shaped piece of sea glass. “I don’t need saving.” The absurdity of that statement slaps me in the face. My chuckle turns into a pained cough. “Again.”
“Doc…”
I grit my teeth, shove the car door open, and stand. Thank God the world only tilts on its axis for a few seconds. Once I’m alone, I’ll call Gladys. She’ll be able to help me find Nat. After a couple hours of real sleep—not the broken, restless sleep one gets in a hospital—I’ll be strong enough to go after her. I just need to know she’s okay.
Raelynn’s phone rings as she grabs my ruck, and she pulls the device from her pocket. The soft smile gracing her lips tells me all I need to know about who’s on the other end of that call.
“Take it,” I say and ease the bag onto my shoulder. “I can manage from here.”
“That ain’t a good idea?—”
“I mean it, Raelynn. Leave me…alone.”
Before the hurt in her eyes can change my mind, I rush into the house and shut the door.
What the hell did I just do?
Over the months I treated Raelynn—first for the shoulder, then for so many other injuries—we’ve talked here and there. About life. About what matters. I think of her like…my favorite niece—if I’d had any brothers or sisters. Almost family. And I just slammed the door in her face.
I let the rucksack slide to the ground and limp into the kitchen. I didn’t say a word to the doctors about my back. It’s still fucked, but that’s nothing new. A week—maybe two—and it’ll heal up enough for me to ignore it again.
Snagging a bottle of water from the fridge, I head for the bathroom—and the industrial-size bottle of ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet.
“Fucking hell.”
My heart shoots into my throat. The water bottle hits the tile, rolls, and comes to a stop against Nat’s bare foot.
She’s collapsed on the floor next to the shower, wrapped in one of my towels. I can’t tell if she’s breathing.
“Nat? Baby, can you hear me?” I crouch down and check for a pulse. It’s weak, but steady. Thank fuck. She’s burning up. A soft moan escapes her lips as I cup her cheek. “Open your eyes for me.”
She tries, and I get a glimpse of the gray depths before she loses the battle. “Doc…”
“I’m here. Need to get you…off this floor.” Slowly, fighting against the agony tearing a hole through my chest, I ease her up to sitting. Her head rests on my shoulder.
“Have to go,” she whispers.
“You’re in no condition to go anywhere. Except bed. But I need you to help me. I can’t carry you this time.”
Nat draws her knees up to her chest. The motion shifts the towel off her hip and reveals the bullet wound. No bandage. Fuck. It’s so much more than a graze. She’s lucky that Parkerasshole didn’t hit bone. Two of the stitches have popped, and I can smell the infection over the scent of my shampoo clinging to her hair.
“Up on three, okay?” I count it out and pray I have enough left in me to get her all the way to the bed. It’s touch and go for a few steps until she gets her legs under her.
“Can’t stay…” Nat clutches my shirt as I ease her down to the mattress. “Isn’t safe.”
“Shhh. This is the safest place for you right now.” I brush a hand over her hair, hoping like hell I’m telling the truth. “I promise.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Natasha
A gentle handcups my cheek. My skin feels like it’s about to crack into a thousand pieces, but that touch…I lean into it, desperate for more. This is a dream. It has to be. I’m alone. I’m always alone.
“Open your eyes, baby. I need you to drink some water for me.”
Doc.
