Range stilled. He’d thought she’d stabilized.
“Hey. Loverboy.”
He pivoted. Spotted Canyon standing near a door he thumbed toward.
Stalking there, Range was haunted by the words Kasra had spoken, the decision he’d made about his brother and said-grudge. But he didn’t have the words. Had only one focus: Kasra. He stepped into the room and slowed.
She had color back, but still looked as if she’d been through the grinder. At her bedside, he rested his hands on the rail. Trailed the tubes and IV. Scanned the monitors.Kas …
“She’s stable,” came Canyon’s soft words. “If you hadn’t started basic life-saving measures, she wouldn’t have made it.”
The bruises from the imam’s beating had faded into the background with the knot on her temple.
“One of the bullets ricocheted off a rib, cracking it, then hit her lung,” Canyon said. “They were able to remove all fragments and repair the lung, but it’ll feel like she’s eating fire every time she moves.”
Range felt like he could breathe now. At least, a little easier.
“You should get some rest. I’ll stay with her—”
“No.” He wasn’t sure he’d ever leave her side again. Which was whacked, considering where he’d started when he hit Roud almost a month ago. But there wasn’t time for rest or complacency. “We have to get out of here. She’s being hunted.” He felt his brother’s gaze, the curiosity over his attention but said nothing. Didn’t look at him.
“We need to talk—”
“Just”—he bit back the familiar rage and conflict—“give me a sec.” He forced himself to look at Canyon. “Please.”
Arching an eyebrow, his brother gave a hesitant nod. “I’ll be in the hall.”
Once he heard the door close, Range reached down and took Kasra’s hand. Wondered where Atia was. “Sorry I broke my promise.” She’d almost died. “I should’ve been there … done more …” He squeezed her hand. “Just … don’t die on me, okay?” Why did his throat feel so thick?
“I love you.”
Yeah … me, too.What did he know about love? Except that he was sure if she’d succumbed out there, he wouldn’t have wanted to come back either. He bent over the rail and leaned down. “Come back to me, Kas.” He pressed his lips gently to her forehead and straightened. Thought he saw movement near the window—probably Canyon watching. But when he stepped out, he found Canyon talking with Griffin, Azzan, and Leif.
The brawny black guy pulled him into hug. Patted his back so hard he almost sent him into next week. Azzan shook his head in apology for the situation.
“What do you know?” Canyon asked.
“About the attack? Nothing—they were waiting for us. No idea how they found the place. Kasra didn’t know the girl was with the old man until today.”
“Know who’s behind the hit?” Leif asked, arms tucked under his armpits.
“Suspect Calvin Hellqvist, an Army captain. The kid’s father. Frequent patron to Roud.”
Canyon’s eyebrows lifted.
Range nodded. “Kasra said the captain worked with Taweel Abdul-Ghulam, who owns the compound and runs the Trench. Gave him favors.”
“You mean girls,” Leif growled.
Another nod.
“And all this over a kid?” Canyon frowned.
“Not really,” Range said. “Kasra knows names—specifically, the real name behind Viper.”
Griffin let out a low whistle.
“Nobody knows that name,” Azzan argued.
