“Please, Johnny. For me.”
My words are willowy and wispy, and speaking zaps my energy. I get distracted from Johnny when I realize how goddamn cold I am. And then, in the next breath, I’m back in the game and realizing how fucked up I am again.
“You called evac? And they know where I am?”
He has to lean in close to hear me, and I go to reach out for him but can’t lift my arm. Looking down, my shoulder isn’t where it should be. But beyond that, I see what’s got Johnny the most worked up. The hilt of a large knife jammed into my thigh the blade in my leg and not showing, a tourniquet I didn’t even feel Johnny doing sitting above it. The steady flow of blood soaking my jeans is the bigger issue.
“Give me my gun and put me behind the door.” Talking is exhausting, but fuck dying here, especially without making sure I could help my pack out.
With my dying breath, I’ll do whatever I can.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he says, but at the same time, he picks me up like I weigh nothing and gets me to a safer position.
Because if push came to shove, and I was in his place, he knows I’d do everything he asked. Everything.
“You’re not the best doctor I’ve had,” I tease as he covers me with his jacket. “I swear, if my pack gets hurt because of you arguing with me, I’ll haunt you from my grave.”
Johnny’s not smiling at my attempt at humor. He drops his forehead to mine, and I squeeze my eyes shut, blocking out his whispered words of a quick and blessed journey to the afterlife.
I just need to know my pack is safe, and I’ll be at peace.
I realize once he’s gotten up and walked off that he’s put my phone in my hand. I power it up, and even though there are no bars for reception, I still send something to each of them.
People should tell others they love them more often. It’s my biggest regret. That, and not having my wedding ring on my finger.
Slowly but surely, even blinking takes energy I don’t have. I don’t panic as I my life drains, because the scent of them finds me. Bitter decadent dark chocolate with spicy notes of pepper, dipped in hot cinnamon and sugar sprinkles, with a side of sugar and sage and a dusting of lemon verbena, is an exquisite and poignant a sendoff. It is deeply peaceful.
Chapter Fifty-Eight
KEEGAN
In an emergency situation, everything tracks differently. And unless you’ve trained specifically for high-stress situations, the notion of impending doom is terrifying. I get that. But fear makes people stupid, and I have absolutely no tolerance for stupidity. It drives me fucking crazy.
“Kee.” Rafferty’s voice slices through the volatility hazing my thoughts.
I spin on my feet and find him in an instant. Seeing him, hearing him, even over the distance and the fucking mayhem building around us is purifying on one hand—he always has and always will soothe the ravages inside me—but it also feeds my desperation. Put simply, we’re wasting time waiting for the shite to come to us, when we should be out there, acting offensively.
Rafferty gets it. He’s aggravated and baying for blood, but he’s also being more diplomatically minded. He holds his hand up, purses his lips, and guides me down to a simpler place. A place where it’s just him and me, Ty, Ronin, and our missingwife. That’s what’s important, and that’s where I want to be with a desperation that makes me want to hurt people. It eats at me that Paddy’s forced us here.
“Again,” he mouths because he knows I’m nowhere near the amicable state he wants me to be. But before he can help me settle down some more, he growls and holds his hand up, asking me to wait. He hears or sees something I don’t and races after someone or something. It’s near impossible to see because, all around me, there’s absolute fucking chaos.
And now two of my Omegas are not where they should be, which is by my side.
Around me, the dark world we live in keeps turning, not waiting for me to pull my head out of my arse. There are shots being fired, people screaming, and a heaviness hangs in the atmosphere like an omen of how bad shite is about to get.
I chase the disassociation that comes from going up against your enemies and hungering for their blood on your hands. Which is a damn sight easier than getting caught in the emotional fallout of not being able to see any of my pack.
It took every bit of our experience and patience getting all the O’Connor family, aside from Paddy and Jeanie, to safety. If Ronin hadn’t asked us to help him, it might not have happened, because our pack is facing its own crisis. Now they’re gone from sight, they’re gone from mind too. That detachment doesn’t diminish the love I have for Ronin’s family, or the rage I feel towards Paddy, but right now, neither of them are on my agenda.
In the corner of my eye, a flash of movement stirs through the air. I pick up a brush of Rafferty’s energy and a hint of his sweet sage scent, and even without him guiding me again, I get air back into my lungs.
His face is flushed, his blue eyes wild and unsettled, but until we’re all back together, I suspect we’ll all be looking the same.
“Ronin and Paddy are screaming black and blue at each other in the foyer,” Rafferty explains, as he falls into my arms. “I think you need to step in before Ronin does something he’ll regret.”
There’s nothing wrong with Raff as such, just his designation riding his ass like always. He hates the constant need to touch his Alphas, but I can’t say I agree with him. I’m always up for feeling his skin on mine.
A gun fires, and I pull him down so hard, he grunts as I wind him.
