“Shh. Lie back. It’s okay.” Troy covered her with a blanket, then sat beside her and placed his hand on hers.
Tim Holland donned a pair of gloves, then removed her shoe and rolled up her pants leg. “Gwen, it’s a nasty bite. I’ll try not to hurt you, but I need to get your sock off and clean the wound.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
The wound was deep and jagged, exposing fat and muscle. Troy laced his fingers with hers. “Julian is picking us up at the airport. Until we figure out my situation, we’re staying with him. We can do reconnaissance of his new castle.” His eyes twinkled.
“I don’t want to impose,” she hissed as Tim pulled away more of her sock.
“At this point, Ineedyou with me. There’s no imposition,” he insisted.
“Here comes the scrub. I’m sorry,” Tim said, his face devoid of emotion.
Gwen sucked a breath through her teeth. “Shit.” She looked into Troy’s honey-brown eyes and saw his pain. The idea he hurt because of her amplified her own discomfort.
“I’m going to inject some lidocaine and scrub it again. I’m sorry,” Tim said. “Any allergies?”
“No.” Her grip on Troy tightened.
Troy turned her head away from her wound. “Tomorrow is Memorial Day. I planned to attend a service with Jule at Fort Rosecrans National Cemetery. Then we will head back to Jule’s home for a barbecue. I’m sure his security can cover me too. I want you to rest a day. Tuesday, the show begins.” He was trying to distract her.
“Now I’m a burden,” Gwen huffed.
“Gwen, I’m going to remind you of this once.” Troy’s eyes filled with mirth. “Who am I?”
“Troy Bremen.”
“And what is my role in San Diego?” His thumb rubbed a soft circle over the back of her hand.
“Assistant Executive Director,” she mumbled. “I’m sorry.”
“No more ‘I’m sorrys.’ We understand each other; you are not a burden. Tim, how’s she doing?”
“Bleeding is controlled; wound is clean. I need to wait a few more minutes to cut some of the torn and furling edges. Gwen, we need to keep the wound open; otherwise, you will get an infection. I’m going to draw some blood for a baseline. Tuck will likely start you on the rabies vaccine. I’m also going to give you something for the pain. Still no allergies?”
“None.” She yawned. Exhaustion was setting in now that she was past the adrenaline rush.
The PA injected her with Toradol. “Can I get you something?”
“Some water please,” she mumbled, her eyes growing heavy.
“You’ve got it.” Tim smiled.
* * *
Tuck Hanlon,head of the DC health center, and Tate Webster jogged up the steps of the Chase jet. “You, okay?” Tate, Executive Director of the DC branch, asked.
“I’m furious. How the hell did that animal get onto the airport grounds? And it charged us and bit a chunk off Gwen’s calf,” Troy growled. “Tuck, she’s in the bedroom with Tim Holland.”
“Good. I’ll start the rabies series. I called Eric. He’ll continue them,” Tuck said.
Troy slammed his fist on the armrest. “It came out of nowhere. She was amazing; literally, she carried me up the steps. I watched it chew her leg. Holland held me back; and she dumped her entire clip into it.” His chest continued to rise and fall with angered breaths.
“She protected your life, and it seems Tim Holland also did.”
Since Chase Security International separated from the Chase Group, CSI had become the object of intense scrutiny and curiosity. The case in Silverton, Iowa, was big news. CSI was able to dismantle a multi-million-dollar organization responsible for the production and distribution of illegal drugs and violent pornography, all thanks in part to Troy’s work. The severely injured, unnamed, “handsome” executive became part of the news and the tabloid lore, even though CSI clamped down on the details of the case and his injuries immediately.That led to rumors, of course.
“Not only are you a Chase executive, remember, you put away some evil people who may still be coming after you. And there’s the paparazzi. She did her job. Why are you feeling guilty?” Tate raised a brow.
