“No.” Nick pushed onto his elbows, collapsed a second later. “No hospitals. Not until we know what the hell’s going on.”
Chase gawked at him. “While I love your vote of confidence, this is beyond my scope, brother. Rowan’s, too. For all I know, this is far more than just blood loss and some new, shiny jewelry laced up your thigh. You might need surgery.”
“Then, put me out and you two muddle through it.” He looked at Sloane. “Sweetheart. You know I’m right on this one.”
Chase arched a brow as he glanced at Sloane. “Something you want to share?”
Sloane sighed, the endearment still ringing in her ears. How it had slipped off Nick’s tongue as if he’d always called her that. “There’s evidence to suggest this is tied to the CIA. That Nick was always the target. Maybe the entire Raven’s Security team. Taking him to a civilian hospital…”
It could end bloody, and they all knew it.
Chase pursed his mouth, looking at Kash and Zain before pushing out a rough breath. “I’ll make you both a compromise. We’ll reroute Bodie and Greer to Providence. Stay just longenough for them to clean out the shrapnel, ensure Nick doesn’t need surgery, then we’ll head back to the office. Rowan and I can handle his care, but he needs to be thoroughly checked out first.”
Nick groaned. “And that’s a compromise how, exactly?”
“I’m not insisting you keep your ass in a hospital bed for three days, am I? And yeah, you should, but I understand this is complicated. And we’ll have your back…” He tapped Nick on the chest. “Once I’m sure you won’t drop dead or lose your damn leg because I missed a shard and you end up with sepsis. And know this…” Chase hovered over him. “If, at any time, I suspect you’re getting worse, I’ll handcuff you and take you back to Providence, myself.”
That took the wind out of Nick’s argument. He nodded, closed his eyes.
Chase pinned Sloane with a hard stare. “And don’t think we missed that you caught a round in your arm.” He pointed to the seat beside Kash. “Sit. You’re next.”
Sloane eased onto the seat, a hint of warmth spreading through her. Other than Nick, she’d never been part of a team that felt like family, and she couldn’t stop the pang of envy. That Nick had finally found something worth fighting for.
Rowan’s phone chirped, and she took a moment to glance at the screen before cursing under her breath, swiping it open. She stared for a minute, eyes following a text or an email before she looked up, met everyone’s expectant gaze. “Bodie just texted. Greer just got off the phone with Avery. She said she’d tried to call you Sloane but couldn’t get through. Apparently, the FBI received an encrypted packet. Turns out it’s a burn notice — on you, Nick. Damn thing went live at midnight.”
The words rattled inside Sloane’s head, mixing in with the roar of the engines, the constant thump of the rotors.
She mulled it over, swallowed past the lump in her throat. “A burn notice?”
Rowan held up her phone. “That’s what it says. Fully sanctioned.”
“But… I thought this consulting job was arranged last night?”
Nick nodded, glaring at Chase when the guy added more pressure bandages to the wounds. “It was. Wade took it after hours.”
Sloane cursed. “Shit…”
Rowan frowned. “What?”
“It means someone pushed this to the ledger boards before it went live.” Sloane gazed at Nick. “Someone with clout. Though, there’s got to be more here than what’s on the surface. A burn notice limits resources. Restricts contacts. Pretty much makes you an island no one wants to get within a hundred yards of. It doesn’t put a damn bounty on your head?—”
Another chirp, another text.
Rowan read it, huffed. “Bodie accessed a copy of the file Avery sent them. Started poking around when he got another message from her.” Rowan sighed. “Seems Nick isn’t the only one in the hot seat. Another notice just went live.” She held up her phone, again. “It’s on you, Sloane.”
