Hailey sinks her teeth in her bottom lip, warding off the pain.
“Shh,” I whisper, brushing a gentle kiss over her forehead. “You’re okay, I’m almost done.”
She doesn’t say a word, just shuts her eyes, grinding her teeth. Broadway helps, handing over the bandages and skin-closing strips, then puts everything away when I’m done.
I pull Hailey close, cradling her head against my chest.
The adrenaline starts hissing out of her as Koby lulls the car to a more comfortable speed. Everything she went through shakes her petite frame. It’s like now the nightmare’s over, she can barely hold herself together. I know her. I know she’s fighting tears, fighting to calm down, and that sheer will not to break down fucking guts me.
“It’s okay, you’re okay,” I whisper, wrapping her tightly in my arms. It’s not as if saying it enough times will erase whatever she’s been through, but my voice soothes her, so I don’t stop. “It’s over, I promise.” My fingers tangle in her hair, brushing it back while she nuzzles deeper into the crook of my neck.
The car tires hum against the asphalt; the engine’s rhythmic purr and my hands stroking her back drift Hailey off to sleep. It takes well over an hour before her trembles finally ease.Her breaths even out, but even in her sleep, she doesn’t stop clutching my waistcoat in tight fists.
No way I can reach my phone, hidden in the back pocket of my pants, without disturbing her, but Dante needs an update.
“Broadway,” I say, keeping my volume low so I don’t wake Hailey. “Give me your phone.”
???
“We should stop here,” Ryder says, pointing out a gas station. “We’re running on fumes, Boss.”
Two hours have passed since we lost the sedans. There’s no one following us anymore, but even with no immediate threat, my grip on Hailey unconsciously tightens.
“Yeah, alright, pull over. Grab some food; I don’t know how well the safe house is stocked.”
“I’ll go,” Broadway offers. “You stay with her.”
His footsteps slap against the tarmac. Ryder follows while Koby fills up the tank, his assessing eyes scanning the open area checking if we’re being followed.
Taking a deep breath, I draw small circles with my fingers on Hailey’s back, hoping it’s enough to keep her sleeping. She should rest. We still have three hours before we arrive at the safe house Dante’s kindly offered us.
Minutes stretch on, and soon, Broadway returns with supplies. He shoves a bottle of water into my door pocket, then hands me a steaming coffee. The bitter smell fills the car as the other two get back in with their cups, letting the cool evening air inside. Immediately, goosebumps dot Hailey’s neck.
Leaving a bag of sandwiches on the seat, Broadway pulls a blanket from under his arm. He covers her up with the kind ofcare you’d need to dismantle a bomb, probably aware I’ll bite his fucking head off if he wakes her up.
“Thanks,” I say, adjusting my hold on her to free one hand and sip the coffee.
It agitates the bullet-hole in my shoulder, making me hiss loud enough to attract Ryder’s attention.
“We need to patch you up,” he says, staring at me in the rearview mirror. “It’d be nice if you didn’t bleed out.”
I grind my teeth, my head hitting the headrest. “Later. I’m fine. You can patch me up once we’re in the safe house.”
“Carter,” Koby insists, his voice a notch firmer than Ryder’s. “What if we’re being followed?” He glances over his shoulder at Hailey’s sleeping face. “You don’t have to let her go. Ryder can work while we drive. But if you pass out or get worse—”
“Fuck, fine.” I, very carefully, tuck Hailey against my healthy shoulder. “Stop nagging.”
I could easily last a few more hours without a dressing, but Koby’s right. The more blood I lose, the weaker I become. Risking an infection is out of the question.
If anything else goes sideways tonight I’ll need all the strength I can get to protect her.
15
CARTER
Tires crunch over gravel as Koby maneuvers the car to a halt outside the double-wide garage doors.
“Damn, Dante didn’t skimp on this place,” Broadway says, scrutinizing the safe house.
