That if she died, it was his fault.
He scrubbed a hand down his face, every move tugging on stitches, the graze across his thigh a constant, fiery ache when the far doors slid open, a man in scrubs walking toward them.
Nick stood, ignored how he needed Dalton’s hand on his shoulder to keep him from tripping onto his ass, as he met the doctor’s guarded gaze. “How is she?”
The guy blew out a harsh breath, looking as bad as Nick felt. “The blade missed the major arteries by millimeters, but it nicked her spleen and diaphragm. Another ten minutes, and it would have been too late. I’ve got her in a medically induced coma for the next day or so… give the repair a chance to hold before she’s up kicking someone’s ass. But I’m optimistic she’ll be fine.”
The news hit him like a wall, Dalton the only reason he didn’t crumple to the floor. Nick shook the man’s hand. “Can I see her?”
The doctor glanced at Dalton, then back to him. “We’re moving her to the ICU for the next twenty-four hours. You can camp out in her room. Once we’re satisfied with her progress, we’ll move her to our… remote wing until she’s stable enough you can arrange for other accommodations. Just don’t piss off the nurses, or it won’t matter what agency you both work for.”
Dalton snorted, looking at Nick as if he might not last ten minutes before being tossed out, then followed behind him. The doctor led them to a glass room, much like the one where they’d found Kessler, and waved them ahead.
Nick stepped through the doors, heart hammering like a seismograph, hands slick with sweat before stopping. Face pale, eyes closed, she looked insanely small against the crisp white sheets, the monitors looming behind her. A steady beep filled the background, her chest rising and falling rhythmically in her sleep.
Dalton scraped a couple of chairs closer to the bed, taking the one farthest away as Nick moved over to her side, took her hand in his. He planted a kiss on the back, then sank into the chair, her fingers cupped in his.
The hours slipped away, that annoying beep keeping him sane as he drifted in and out of sleep, finally moving with her to the isolation wing.
Bodie stopped in, leaned against the door. “How is she?”
Nick raked his hand through his hair. “Still unconscious.”
“They just took her off the meds, Colter. Give the girl a moment.”
“Would you give Rowan a moment?”
Bodie laughed. “Point noted. How are you?”
“Breathing and awake, so… Kessler?”
“If Tierney doesn’t kill him for just being in her space, he’ll be fine. Buck’s running interference. The guy finally gave up his stash. Tierney’s downloading it in protected packets. Shouldhave it all shortly. We’ll set up another safehouse if needed, but for now, they’re good.”
Nick stood, paced across the room, then back. “Which means, you’ve got other news.”
“Have I ever told you this operative thing you never turn off can be incredibly annoying?”
“All the time. So… spill. I assume it’s bad.”
“You assume everything’s bad.”
“I worked for the CIA. It’s usually bad.”
Bodie laughed. “And that’s why we love you, brother.” He shifted, and Nick knew he’d been right. “Tierney’s been using some old Interpol connections to poke around those financial ledgers Sloane mentioned, and it seems that Hill’s backtracked on directive seven. He’s also gone dark on all official searches involving you and Sloane.”
Nick’s heart skipped, a cold sweat slicking the back of his neck. “Shit.”
“I assume that means something different to you? Because it sounds like he’s turning tail.”
“The only reason Hill would cancel the directive is if he’s catching too much heat, and he’s decided his only recourse is to send his own shadow team. And these guys won’t be amateurs. Your run-of-the-mill mercenaries. They’ll be the most highly trained tier-one assholes he can find, whose allegiance lives and dies with how much Hill’s paying them. And trust me, it’s all that bounty money and then some.”
“So, this isn’t over.”
Nick glanced at Sloane, gaze darting to the monitor — to the rhythmic beat that had been his sanity backdrop for the past thirty-six hours. “The merger’s less than two weeks away. Hill’s running out of time. As soon as Sloane’s strong enough to move, I’ll have her ass in a safehouse even Tierney wouldn’t be able to track down. Then, I’ll deal with Kessler and Hill.”
“You meanwe’lldeal with Kessler and Hill, because we’re a team, Colter. Doesn’t matter that the water’s too hot to swim in, we’re still going to have your back, so…” Bodie pushed off the wall. “Make your plans, but make them for all of us. We’ll ensure Sloane’s got a wall of security around her, but Dalton’s your shadow. Period.”
Nick grunted, had a thousand reasons lined up to counter Bodie’s orders, when Sloane’s voice whispered behind him.
