Seven Nights

by Kristin Daniels

  The air in her lungs seized. Evan swore as he quickly surveyed the water. “She took him down. Goddamn it.” Then he jumped in after Garrett.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Her mind completely blanked—except for one desperate chant she couldn’t put a halt to even if she’d tried.

  Find him. He’s gone. Find him. He left me. Oh God please, please find him.

  She searched the horizon, hoping someone might be near, someone who could help them. Someone who saw what happened. But there was nothing out there. No boats. No lights. No sounds other than screams inside her head. She was utterly alone, in the middle of nowhere.

  Fear like she’d never felt before clutched at her heart, sending terrified shock waves throughout the rest her body. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t swallow. She couldn’t do anything but grip the railing in her wet, slippery hands and…

  Something crashed against the hull directly beneath her. Then she saw them. Heaven above, she saw them. Her men. Garrett shot out of the water, gasping for air. He grappled for the railing. Riley latched onto his arm and pulled. Evan swam underneath him, pushing up.

  That was when she saw the swirl of red in water. Blood. One of them had been… Oh God. Bitten? Cut? Either way, blood in the water when sharks were around was bad. Horrifically bad.

  “Hurry,” she shouted.

  Garrett pulled himself higher, growling through gritted teeth as he lifted himself using only his upper body strength. He swung his leg up and over the railing, tumbling over the top to collapse flat on his back onto the deck. Evan followed, grasping where Garrett had on the chrome bar. But his hands slipped.

  Riley’s gut twisted.

  A shadow passed underneath him. The shark. She was here. The tables had been turned. She’d gotten a taste of one of them and wanted more. Evan had run out of time.

  “Jesus.” He scrambled for the railing again. His grip was sure this time, his strength incredible as he heaved himself upward. But he wasn’t fast enough.

  Another scream tore from Riley’s throat when the shark broke through the surface as Evan came fully out of the water. All razor teeth and voracious hunger wrapped up in a slick, gray body, the beast jumped for him, catching the meaty part of his ankle on one of her snarled, spiky teeth.

  Evan jerked his leg, snagging the side his foot and ripping the flesh on top of it in a straight line from his ankle bone down to his little toe on her serrated tooth. Riley grabbed for him, and Garrett somehow was there, too. They managed to hoist him up and over. They got him back in the boat.

  They saved him.

  All three of them crumpled into a heap on the deck. They panted recklessly, each breathy wheeze raging in and out of their lungs. Evan groaned, then hissed. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t. Riley was sprawled on top of him. And all she could think about while she lifted her chest off him to see for herself that he was all right, was how much she wanted to kiss the hell out of him—and then beat him to a bloody pulp.

  But before she could do any of that, they had to get the bleeding stopped. She scooted back along his legs, yelling at Garrett. “Get the first aid kit. Hurry.”

  Evan gnashed his teeth together as Garrett scrambled on the wet and slippery boat deck. He disappeared inside the cabin for a moment, then popped back out holding a small white and blue box. He hit the switch for the lights as he raced back to her.

  With how badly Evan was injured, this tiny kit wasn’t going to cut it.

  “He needs stitches. And a lot of them.” That was putting it mildly. “Is there gauze in there? An Ace bandage? Pressure. We need to put pressure on this.”

  Garrett ripped through packages and handed her several 4X4 white squares. She stacked them together, laid them evenly over the gouge in Evan’s foot, and then pressed—hard. He growled, but Riley didn’t let up. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

  Lord, she’d do just about anything right now for an endless supply of gauze, a syringe full of Lidocaine and a simple suture kit. Oh, and an ER department within spitting range would be crazy convenient, too.

  Garrett knelt next to her, unwinding the Ace bandage. “Here,” he said. “Lift up.”

  When he started to wrap Evan’s foot, she clutched his wrist. “Are you okay? Hurt? Did she get you, too?”

  He swiped at the drips of water running into his eyes from his hair. “No, no. I’m okay. I’m all right.”

  “There was blood. In the water. I saw it. Before the shark surfaced, I saw it in the water.”

  He looked down at his own body, yanking the hem of his swim trunks higher up his thighs. “It wasn’t mine—”

  “There,” Evan bit out.

  Oh hell. Yes it was Garrett’s blood.

  Evan hitched his chin toward Garrett’s leg. “Behind your knee.”

  He craned his neck for a better look. “Whoa. Okay… It’s not bad. It’s just a surface cut. I didn’t even feel it.”

  Not wholly atypical. The adrenaline pumping through his body was doing a hell of a job at masking any sort of pain he may otherwise feel. When his nerves started evening out, though, that’s when he’d feel every bit of that superficial cut. The thing was going to hurt like a bitch—later.

  “The bleeding is slowing down,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  She wanted to throttle him for saying that, but instead, she ripped the Ace wrap out of his hands. “He needs a hospital, Garrett. You do too. You need to get us out of here. Now.”

  He didn’t so much as hesitate. He jumped up, untied the rope on the chum bag and chucked it into the water, then cranked in the other reel and threw it and its still-attached big-ass-tuna bait onto the deck. Lunging toward the helm, he flipped the toggle to raise the anchor and fired up the GPS. Within minutes, he had them turned around and was hurtling them back toward shore.

  “How bad is it?” Evan groaned.

  She secured the bandage tightly around his foot and went back to pressing on the wound as best she could while Garrett seemingly slammed the boat into every single wave in their path. Each crash jarred her teeth, her bones, her entire body, but she didn’t ease up. She still wanted to punch Evan’s lights out, but couldn’t, so she let the distraught tone of her voice do the smacking for her. “It’s bad. You were bit. By a shark.”

  Despite the rush of the cool night air, her face heated. The electrifying flash spinning around inside her was rapidly being edged out by a shit-ton of anger. The words I told you so dangled on the tip of her tongue, but she forced herself to bite them back. Letting them out wouldn’t do a damn bit of good anyway.

  The gauze didn’t last more than thirty seconds before blood started seeping through. The wrap went from a light flesh-tone to sticky and deep red right before her eyes. “You’re bleeding through. Damn it.”

  “Hold on.” Evan grimaced and stretched out flat on his back, reaching beyond his head for the under-seat compartment closest to him. He yanked it open, stretched a little more, and came back with handful of towels—ones she suspected were clean and white at one point. They certainly weren’t now.

  “Nope.” The physician’s assistant and germ-a-phobe inside her shuddered. “No way. Those are—”

  “Right now, they’re all we’ve got,” he answered evenly.

  Rivulets of salty water trickled off his arm as he held the dirty cloths out to her. The line between his eyes ran deep as he drew his brows together tightly. He worked his jaw, and she knew, without a doubt, that his adrenaline wasn’t making even the slightest dent in his pain. It had to be off-the-charts horrendous.

  She also knew he was right.

  When she shifted slightly to grab the towels, he hissed through clenched teeth. She dropped the rags onto the deck and picked through them one-handed, looking for the cleanest ones she could find. She pulled out three that would have to do and placed the first one on top of the Ace bandage before reapplying pressure to the wound.

  “Fuck,” Evan ground out.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she chanted once
again, pressing a little harder. No matter how much pain he was in, she couldn’t let up. He’d lose too much blood if she did.

  The horrific flash in his eyes told her he knew the score. He drew his lips between his teeth and shook his head. “No, don’t be. Just do it.”

  Oh, she would. She wouldn’t think of letting him go.

  At the helm, she heard Garrett shouting their coordinates into the VHF marine radio. Yes, thankyouthankyouthankyou, he was notifying the Coast Guard of the shark attack and where in the godforsaken-middle-of-nowhere they were. But Sunset Tryst could haul ass way faster than a CG ship could, so chances of the sailors actually finding them out here in the dark before they reached the harbor? Pretty fricking slim. At the very least, the CG could radio ahead and have an ambulance waiting, ready to roll. Still, it was going to be an hour—or more—before they got that far.

  She didn’t know if they had that much time. Evan’s skin took on a ghostly hue, his breathing sped up, and damn it, he was staring to tremble. Shock. Ah God, he was going into shock.

  There was nothing within her reach, not one thing she could use to cover him to keep the shakes at bay. The fact he was drenched, combined with the wind whipping around them from Sunset Tryst running balls-to-the-wall, only added to his uncontrollable shivers.

  “Are they coming?” she asked.

  Garrett shook his head and yelled back to her. “No, I told them to meet us at the harbor. I’m not stopping for anything or anyone. Not even the Coast Guard.”

  Good, yes. They’d be waiting. Someone would be waiting for them.

  Evan groaned as more shivers racked his body.

  “Whoa, hold on. No, no! Stay with me,” she ordered as he closed his eyes. When he snapped them back open, the pain in his baby blues rocked her to the core.

  “I’m here. I’m good.”

  Like hell he was. But he was tough, she’d give him that. They rode that way for long moments, each holding the other in their terrified stare, like if they didn’t, if they dared to look somewhere else, one of them would end up slipping away.

  “Halfway there,” Garrett shouted over his shoulder.

  She didn’t say anything to that. She simply changed the first now-blood-soaked towel out for the second dingy-yet-dry one. Pressing down again, she looked up to grab onto his stare, only to find his head lolled to the side and his eyes closed tight.

  “Oh no. No, no, no. Evan! Wake up!” She shifted her grip on his foot and slid up beside his body on her knees. Pressing two fingers against his neck, she ignored the panic spearing her stomach as her breath froze in her lungs.

  Yes! She got a pulse, a strong one. But he was out like a light. “He passed out,” she said when Garrett looked back at her.

  “Damn it. Hold on.” He fisted the throttle control in his right hand, but he’d already maxed it out. They were flying through the water as fast as they could.

  Not long after, the shore came into view. Sweet, sweet mercy. Her knuckles, wrists and elbows ached from keeping up the pressure, but she didn’t care about any of that. She’d keep this up forever if she had to. But as the twinkling lights of the hotels and resorts burned bigger and brighter the closer they got, she knew she wouldn’t have to.

  Finally they passed through the rock wall entrance that led into the lagoon and there, at the mouth of the harbor, sat a Coast Guard ship. But Garrett didn’t stop. He shot past them, paying zero attention to the posted No Wake Zone signs. He only slowed once they closed in on the docks. At the end of the nearest one, haloed by the wash of the yellow outdoor dock lights, stood a couple police officers and two EMT crews with their gear and stretchers waiting for them.

  Tears blurred her vision as a jumble of relief and anger and fear ripped through her insides at the wonderful sight. The howl of the wind in her ears was replaced by the baritone shouts of the rescue team. Two big and burly EMTs hopped on board even before Garrett could throttle all the way back and bring the boat to a complete stop.

  One knelt alongside her and took over at Evan’s foot. The two officers rushed in to tether the boat to the dock while an EMT helped her to stand, moving her away from Evan. “Are you hurt?” he asked.

  Her? No, why would he think…

  Then she looked at her hands. Blood. Blood was everywhere. Caked on her fingers, streaked up her arms. Coating the fronts of her thighs, wet and sticky on her knees.

  Oh God…

  “No, I’m okay. It’s not… It’s not mine.”

  No, it was Evan’s. And probably Garrett’s too. Holy hell, there was so much of. It was all over the deck. All over her. All over her men. She moved to go back to Evan. She had to. She had to make sure…

  The EMT gripped her elbow more firmly. “Come over here with me. Let them work on him. We’ve got him now.”

  Garrett blew past one of the cops and came up beside her then. He took her face in his palms, kissed her once. Twice. Then again. “Rie. Baby.”

  Before she could think, she lunged into his arms, then just as quickly, she pushed away. She shoved at his chest, wanting to knock him off balance—wanting to knock him on his ass—but she barely budged him.

  “Whoa, whoa! Hold up, what…”

  “No! No holding up! I am so mad at you. At the both of you!” Her tears started in earnest then. She didn’t even try to stop them. “I thought you were dead. That you both were dead. You left me. Evan left me. I was all alone up here. I didn’t know…”

  He pulled her into his arms again, and this time she stayed there. This time, she clung to him for dear life, digging her fingers into the tight muscles along his upper back until she was certain she was leaving fingernail marks.

  She turned her head sideways, squishing her cheek against Garrett’s chest as the EMTs assessed Evan. Light slaps on his cheeks did the trick and he came to, but only for a few seconds before he drifted back into unconsciousness again.

  “I’m sorry,” Garrett whispered into her hair, stroking the strands over and over. “I’m so sorry, Rie. I never intended to get pulled in, or for Evan to go in after me. I never intended for anything like that to happen.”

  No, of course he hadn’t. She knew that. But it still didn’t make her feel any better.

  “Sir,” one of the EMTs said before she could think to respond, “We need to take a look at your leg.

  She pulled away from Garrett’s hold to find fresh rivers of red oozing down his calf. The sight of blood had never once made her squeamish before, but all of this was too much for her to take. Her stomach flipped, her head swam a little. She didn’t want to lose it. She couldn’t lose it. Not now. Not yet.

  “Go with him.” She lifted her hand when he started to protest. “No arguments. You need to have that looked at. Go. I’ll take care of this.”

  And she needed a second to just, shit, catch her breath. But as she watched the crew load Evan onto the stretcher and cover him with a silver mylar blanket, her first attempt got stuck somewhere in her throat. And when they lifted him from the boat deck and started to make their way down the dock, she wasn’t sure she had enough room in her lungs for even the slightest sip of air.

  Garrett reluctantly followed after him, flanked on his right by an EMT. The heartbreak, the guilt—heaven above, the love—in his eyes when he looked back at her from over his shoulder as he trudged up the wooden planks to where the ambulances were waiting, set her completely off balance. God, she was so furious with him. With them. But her steadfast love for Garrett and the blossoming love she was beginning to feel for Evan went a long way toward crowding out every bit of her anger. Fear slipped in then—fear of how close she’d come to losing them both, and the fear of knowing that at the end of the week, Evan was going to turn around and leave her anyway.

  She closed her eyes and spun away from Garrett’s stare, hating the dread and hollowness expanding inside her. She hated how it tossed her right back into her childhood, hated how it reminded her of the ache left in her heart whenever she started to like one of her “u
ncles”, only for her mom to pull some sort of stunt and ruin everything. Some of those men in their lives had been good. They’d been trustworthy and kind. They’d been more like a dad to her and Char than their own biological father had been, so when they left, it hadn’t just been her mom they were leaving. It had been Riley, too.

  That very ache was the reason she never wanted to fall in love. This all-to-real fear of being left alone now was, ironically, exactly what she’d tried so desperately to avoid for years.

  But she hadn’t avoided anything. She’d fallen in love—and she’d done it hard, fast and deep. And lord help her, she was doing it again with Evan.

  She had to fight for him. She had to make him see that he didn’t have to leave them. He belonged with her and Garrett, wherever that may be. In Chicago? In his hometown in Texas? Here in Florida? The location didn’t matter.

  All that mattered was that the three of them stay together.

  “Ma’am, would you like to ride along with them?”

  Her eyes flew open at the concerned tone in the remaining EMT’s voice. “Oh, um…” The carnage left behind on the boat deck rendered her speechless, but she had to push past that. If she gave in to it now, if she froze…

  No. Goddamn it, no.

  “We have our rental here, in the lot. The keys…” Jesus, where were the keys? In her bag, in the cabin. “I’ll get them. I’ll follow—”

  “No, don’t follow us. We’re gonna make tracks all the way to the hospital and we don’t need to deal with someone trying to keep up and then getting into an accident when they can’t.” He handed her a small card. “This is the address of the hospital. We’re going to take good care of them, I swear. Just arrive when you can, safely.”

  Fresh tears sprang up at his vow. Even so, all she could do was nod and clutch the card in her fist. As he leapt off the boat and raced up the docks to join the rest of his crew, one of the officers came up beside her. “Mind if we ask you a few questions?”

  She couldn’t take her eyes off the commotion surrounding the ambulances. They had Evan inside one, Garrett in the other, but she didn’t know what they were doing to them. She knew Garrett was okay, his injury was minor, but Evan’s…