My head lolls back, and Enzo adjusts his hold so my head rests on his shoulder. His hand is pressing into my chest, over the wound. Our eyes lock, and I see his concern. “Stay with me,” he whispers.
Like I would ever leave this man.
“Van’s ready,” Pippa announces.
Niko and his crew are waiting at the door to help get me to the van.
Pippa runs up to us and places her hands on either side of my face. They’re so soft. “You’re not dying on me tonight, Johnny, okay? Stay awake.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Janey. I’m too pretty to die, we both know that.”
She looks worried. It must be bad.
They pull me into the van. Jules reminds everyone that she, Pippa, and Luna have medical and EMT training. Pippa takescommand in the van, while Jules takes command of the men outside.
“Listen, Hudson’s DNA is on file at the Bureau,” Jules says. “This must be the most detailed clean up job we have ever done, understood? It has to look like Malin died in his sleep. Let’s get to work.”
The van door closes.
Luca hops into the driver’s seat and we speed off.
Eva’s voice comes in tight and calm. “Doc’s en route, ETA fifteen minutes. Luca, I’ll have the south gate open.” It’s the fastest route to the clinic entrance.
“I’m not reading any police on your course,” Luna adds. “Move fast.”
“Jane, after you and Doc fix me up, will you give me a sponge bath?”
She snorts and shakes her head. “If you’re still flirting, you should be fine.”
I sure hope so.
I force my eyes open and tell myself to stay awake and keep fighting…because one night with Pippa and Enzo wasn’t nearly enough.
SEVENTEEN
confronted
Enzo
Thursday Night, Day 22
Hudson’s blood is hot against my hands. Too hot. Like his body knows it’s losing too much and is working hard to inform me he’s in danger. My brain and my heart are not willing to absorb that information.
In all our years as best friends, with Hudson running double ops between the FBI and the mob, he’s never been shot, never had a serious injury. While I know what we do is dangerous, I’ve never faced the possibility of losing him in any real way.
And it can’t happen.
I’ve got him propped up in the back of the van, his back to my front, head resting against my shoulder. Hudson’s pulse thuds weakly beneath my fingertips and his breath rattles too loudly in my ear.
This is the first time I’ve ever held him like this—felt his body pressed against mine. Why did it take an emergency for me tohave my arms wrapped around him? Isn’t this where he’s always belonged?
Pippa’s pressed in on my other side, calm and focused as she works to steady all three of us. She has a small medical bag in hand. “It’s all we’ve got until we hit the clinic. Pressure. Add more pressure,” she orders as she snaps on gloves, tearing open gauze. “Enzo, hold that angle. Don’t let his airway dip.”
I’m so glad she’s here.
I nod, jaw clenched, palms slick. I’ve seen men shot before. Hell, I’ve put bullets in more than a few. I’ve been around blood and death my whole life and I’ve always stayed calm and collected under pressure.
But this is Hudson.
