Ryan hissed out a breath. “Someone…you know what it means…someone…”
Nash met his brother’s gaze. “Someone at the Agency is working with Wellington. Someone fed him intel. Yeah, I know.”
“Yes.” Ryan winced when Nash probed his wound. “You can’t trust anyone.”
He was staring at the only operative he trusted completely, and with this gunshot wound, Ryan was about to be sidelined.
“You looked worried and pissed as hell.” Ryan heaved out a hard breath. “An…unfortunate combination.”
Sirens were screaming. Had the agents called them? Or concerned bystanders who’d heard the bullets blasting?
“While you are worried about my well-being…”
“Stop talking,” Nash ordered Ryan as he applied pressure to the wound.
“I have a confession I have to make. Don’t be…angry at an…injured man.”
The sirens were screeching louder.
“Don’t…be mad,” Ryan mumbled.
He pressed harder on the wound.
“Remember how…it was supposed to be fake?”
He’d caught sight of two familiar faces behind him. Agents in plain clothes who were coming in fast.
“It’s not,” Ryan mumbled. “Fuck, that burns like a mother.”
“You’re gonna be fine.” Nothing vital had been hit.
“I know. Been shot before.” A wince. “But you are gonna kill me.”
A police cruiser screeched to a halt near the sidewalk. The two CIA operatives were less than five feet away.
“Why would I kill you?” Nash’s brows climbed.
“It was real,” Ryan confessed on a long sigh.
“What was real? The gunfire? Uh, yeah, I get that. You’re bleeding all over the place.”
Ryan stared back at him, the faint lines near his mouth bracketing.
Oh, hell. “What did you do?” Nash demanded.
“What I…thought you wanted…”
“Step away!” A shout from a uniformed cop. Figured that the agents would let the cop take lead. The better not to blow their cover. “Step away from the victim!”
“The victim is my brother!” Nash raised his hands to show that he wasn’t armed. “You’re looking for a gun-metal gray Dodge Charger.”
“With bullet holes on the back passenger side,” Ryan gasped out. He winced. “Don’t be mad, Nash. I wanted to help. This is your chance.” A rushed mutter.
“What did you do?” But the twist in his gut told Nash the answer. “What was real?” He needed to hear the words.
“You know.” Ryan wet his lips. “I…can see it on your face.”
“Say the fucking words.”
