As he stood there, half-listening, Grant understood why they were all relieved by the news of Downing’s death. But he wasn’t.
All he could think was that he’d been fucking cheated.
He’d wanted to confront Downing himself. Wanted to beat the man within an inch of his life. Make him suffer for every ounce of pain he’d caused Brynnon and her family.
After, when it was over and Grant felt the man had been punished enough,he’dwanted to be the one to put a bullet in Downing’s brain. Now, he’d never get that chance.
Olivia came back out of the room, quieting his murderous thoughts.
Grant shot toward her. “Is she okay?”
With hopeful trepidation, she said, “Her temperature is steadily rising, and her pulse has gotten a bit stronger. They’re going to go ahead and move her into surgery to remove the bullet, keeping the warming system on her as much as they can.”
“That’s good, right?” He searched her round, hazel eyes for reassurance. “If she’s well enough for surgery, that means she’s going to be okay?”
With a sympathetic smile, Olivia gently grasped his forearm. “She’s not out of the woods yet, Grant. So far everything’s gone as well as could be expected, given the circumstances but...”
The door behind Olivia opened and an unconscious Brynnon was pushed into the hall. Pinpricks of fear ran the length of his spine, sending him rushing to the gurney’s side.
A thick, almost industrial-looking blanket covered her from the neck down. It was connected to a machine that was resting at the foot of the bed between Brynnon’s legs and the railing.The warming system.His eyes flew back to her beautiful face.
Long, delicate eyelashes rested on her flawless skin and dried blood covered the area near her hairline from where the son of a bitch had struck her. Grant’s fists clenched the cold railing.
The bluish tinge of her lips had faded some, but he knew she was still too cold. Too pale.
Leaning down, Grant pressed his warm lips to hers. “Keep fighting, Princess.” He kissed her again. “Please, baby. You have to keep fighting.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” A male nurse looked over at him. “But we really need to get her to the O.R.”
Trevor put a hand on his arm. “Come on, man. She needs to go.”
Grant let go of the railing.
Stumbling back, he watched the group of people he didn’t know take the woman who’d become his everything away.
“She’s a fighter, G,” Derek spoke up from behind him.
Coop shared the sentiment. “Hell, yes, she is.”
Grant nodded but said nothing. He just kept watching them push Brynnon farther down the hall until they turned a corner, and she was gone.
She could be gone forever. How am I supposed to do this without her?
It was crazy. They barely knew each other, yet in a lot of ways—the most important ways—she knew him better than anyone ever had.
After years of being alone, Grant finally found a woman he wanted a future with. One who could die any minute.
Ah, Christ. I could lose her tonight.
He couldn’t even take it out on the man responsible because the fucker had taken the chicken shit way out and ate a goddamn bullet.
Rot in hell, you motherfucking cock sucker.
“Hey,” Mac rested a hand on his arm. “You okay?”
Concern was etched all over the tiny blonde’s face. When Grant glanced at the others, he realized they were all staring back at him with that same, sorrowful expression. All, except Jake.
When Grant locked eyes with the other man, Jake simply gave him a tip of his chin. “Go. Do what you need to do. We’ll come get you if anything changes.”
