Chase looked at Dalton again as he shook his head. “And to think everyone claimed Oregon life had tamed that operativeside of you. Fine, but just enough to keep her from flatlining again. And you’re being treated as soon as we land. Period.”
“They can work on me once they’re sure she’ll keep breathing.”
“Stubborn as always.”
Chase grabbed the supplies, hooked up a battlefield transfer, that long, red line the only thing registering in Nick’s mind. He’d gladly give her all of it if it meant she’d live.
How this time, maybe he could trade his life for hers.
Dalton kept his hand on Nick’s shoulder, holding him upright when a dull roar sounded in his head, the scenery tilting left and right. He blinked, and the line was gone, just a strip of white tape on his skin. Rowan crouched beside him, gauze in hand as she wrapped his leg — the graze from the Reaper. He tried to tell her to focus on Sloane, but the words wouldn’t form on his tongue.
Rowan looked up, tsked as they made eye contact. “Chase is still working on her, so stop staring at me as if I’ve broken some kind of code. The plan is to keep you both breathing and since you gave up a pint of blood…”
He swallowed. “Take more.”
“Any more, and they’re wheeling you straight to the morgue.”
“Don’t care. She needs it. I’ve got it. It’s hers.”
Rowan sighed. “You Spec Op boys are all the same. And we’re on short final for the grass pad. Sloane’s strong enough to wait until she’s inside before they hook up another pint.”
The helicopter shook, flaring off speed before Foster planted it on the ground, the engines spooling down a moment before the doors flew open. A sea of white coats and blue scrubs raced forward, sliding Sloane onto a stretcher.
Nick all but fell out of the chopper behind her, Dalton grabbing him before he hit the mud, holding him upright as they raced beside the gurney. The hospital doors whooshed open, thelong hallway stretching out in front of them. Nick kept pace, Dalton supporting half his weight, the harsh overhead lights highlighting her pale skin. How her chest barely moved as she took a shallow, labored breath.
They shuttled her into a trauma room, one of the nurses blocking his way. Nick pushed through, staying at her side, daring anyone to challenge him. Chase pulled one of the doctors aside, gesturing at Sloane, then Nick before shouldering up beside him. His buddy didn’t talk, just stood there, a calm, immovable presence.
The room fell into a frantic form of organized chaos, everyone calling out vitals and meds before rushing her down another hallway and into an elevator. Nick stayed close, limping along beside the stretcher until Chase tugged him to a halt, shaking his head when Nick took a step. “Sorry, brother, this is as far as you can go, for now.”
“She can’t be left alone. Not for a moment.”
“She’s got an entire trauma team working on her. You’re the one who needs backup, so…”
Nick shook his head, fell back, nearly cracking his skull on a wall before Dalton lunged at him, caught him mid-air.
Chase motioned to an empty trauma room, following Dalton in as the man half-carried Nick to the exam table. “You need those wounds cleaned and bandaged. Probably a few dozen stitches. And shots, for everything.”
“This isn’t just paranoia. There’s still a kill order out on both of us. If anyone learns we’re here…” Nick raked his hand through his hair. “I would have insisted on a safehouse, had a doctor make a house call, but she needed a damn surgeon with meds and monitors.”
Chase closed the distance, ushered Nick into a seat when he refused to climb onto the table. “We’re well aware of your current situation. Greer’s pulling up as we speak. She’s gotdeputies to man the doors, and they’ll be taking Sloane to an isolated wing that’s currently being retrofitted. She’ll be the only patient in there, well, along with you and Kessler, though Kessler should be good to go by morning. And the wing has containment doors that can be sealed off, so we can limit access.” He clapped Nick on the shoulder. “Not our first rodeo, brother. But you’ll be incapacitated if you don’t get yourself cleaned up.”
Some of the fight drained out of him, and Nick slumped against the chair rest, the fringes of his vision already blurring into gray. “We keep this limited to family only. No outside law. No one we can’t personally vouch for sets a foot inside that isolated wing. Once Kessler’s cleared, he goes to Tierney’s with Spec Op level security watching him around the clock. Knowing Kessler, he’s got a copy of those files from Prague stashed on some encrypted cloud server. We need them. Whatever it takes to get the guy to cough them up because without him and the proof, Hill wins.”
“Zain’s already working out a rotation. And Kash and Nyx will patrol the forest around her place for the next few nights. You know nothing gets past that mutt.”
Nick nodded, the hairs on his neck still prickling, every nerve hyperaware. He glanced at the clock, at how his hands still had her blood smeared across them, then focused on the door. He shouldn’t have left her side, not with the threat still hot.
Dalton moved in front as if he’d read Nick’s thoughts — knew he was a breath away from charging out the door. “Avery’s standing watch outside the operating room. You know she won’t let anyone get to her best friend. And I’ll carry your ass up there once you stop being a jackass and let the doctors fix you.”
Nick sighed. “I can’t lose her. I…”
“We know. You’re stupid in love with her.” Dalton helped him onto the bed. “Have faith. She’s a fighter — has to be if she’s gonna hang around with you for the next fifty years. So, breathe.We’ll get you cleaned up and your ass in a hard, vinyl chair in no time.”
Nick stared at Dalton. This was why he’d moved to Oregon. Not for the reduced stress or the sounds of the ocean. But because of his teammates. Men he trusted with more than just his life — men he trusted with hers. Who he knew would fight to the death to save her because she was an extension of him.
Family.
The clock on the wall clicked over, time morphing into an elastic, agonizing blur as he waited for the doctor to treat him, before heading up to the third floor — planting his ass in a chair, Dalton at his side. An ever-present shadow Nick couldn’t shake. Though, having someone else sharing the same space eased the panicked beat of his heart. Calmed the voices in his head that didn’t share Nick’s optimism. The ones that pointed out how she’d taken the hit for him.
