But Alexis had pulled her hand away and stayed focused on the mission at hand. To anyone else, she appeared like the consummate professional that she was. But he had seen the dilation of her eyes when their palms brushed. And when she had tripped over her own feet as they exited the meeting behind Dylan, he was the one that felt her grip on his arm last a beat too long.
She had buried herself under his skin.
Trying to brush off his friend’s declaration, Cliff began to pull out items he’d need for his first appointment. “Not sure how since I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been in the same room as her.”
“Doesn’t mean we didn’t see the look,” Logan chimed in.
Curious, Cliff made the mistake of asking, “What look?”
“You know the one. Where your eyes get big and a dopey grin settles on your face. Don’t worry, we’ve all had it,” Dylan explains.
“Hell, I still have it,” Logan added, perfectly executing the expression in question as if he were thinking of his wife.
“You both are full of shit.”
“You keep telling yourself that.” Dylan stepped closer and leaned toward him. A few inches separated their face. “But, I’m the one that knows how many times you’ve pinged her name in the last two years on the computer in your not-so-secret lair upstairs.”
As his friend returned to his full height, Cliff wondered what else Dylan knew about him and considered cornering his friend to learn the details, but decided against it.
The prospect of learning more, or anything, about Alexis was too high. She’d had this magnetic pull on him since they first met over three years ago and the force was just as strong today as it was then – for him anyway. She was one of the only people he couldn’t get a good read on.
“Fine, I’ll be there tomorrow. Do not let Mrs. Connelly try to set me up, or I’ll leave.”
“No, you won’t. But I’ll pass that note along anyway. My dick thanks you.”
Adding fuel to the flame, Cliff added, “Tell Sydney I said hello,” knowing that it would rile Dylan up. And sure enough, the man clenched his fists at his sides.
“Fucker,” the man mumbled under his breath as he turned to exit the shop, Logan followed suit.
“See ya tomorrow,” Cliff called out with a laugh as he watched the man leave the shop. He headed to the front door to lock it back in place before returning to his station.
For the first time in a few weeks, Cliff had the urge to go out in the field and capture nature’s beauty with his camera. He sat back in his chair and wondered if the notion of family had something to do with that or if it was the mention of the woman that he couldn’t get out of his mind.
Family. It has to be family.
Cliff knocked on the front door of the Connelly’s home. The red door opened wide before his knuckles left the wooden surface and Amy tugged him into her arms. Despite her petite stature, Amy gripped him tightly within her embrace, his breath leaving his lungs in a whoosh.
“Cliff, I am so glad you could make it.”
Feeling admonished at his actions, Cliff sheepishly replied, “I figured it was time to make an appearance. Thank you for having me, Mrs. Connelly.”
“Amy, please.” She stepped around him and closed the front door before leading him through her house toward the ample dining space. Cliff had been in the house before, but always under the worst reasons. The Connelly’s were a target for bad luck and usually required Cliff’s sniper and reconnaissance expertise, not that he ever minded. With a family of billionaires, rock stars, and celebrities, it was almost inevitable that bad shit would find them. Luckily, it had been quiet on their home front since all of the children were married off. Fate had a strange way of bringing people together.
But tonight, Cliff was here on good terms, better terms. The table was filled to the brim with food and every available seat at the extended table was occupied. Every seat except the one next to Amy. As he passed by his friends, all the men smiled knowingly while the women nudged their husbands, silently thanking them for getting Cliff to accept the invitation.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed no random woman awaiting his arrival either.
“This looks delicious, Amy. Good to see you, Mr. Connelly.” Cliff made sure to shake the hand of the man that raised his best friends. It was a surprise to even see him at dinner considering he was the fire chief in the town, providing both fire and rescue assistance in the town as needed. The town’s budget only allowed for one hired employee, volunteers provided the rest of the help. Even Cliff made it a point to aid when he could, but with the influx of residents to the town and the new retirement community opening in a few weeks, he knew that Joseph was stretched thin. Cliff, along with hundreds of others in a town hall meeting, have petitioned the mayor to increase the fire and rescue budget.
Cliff sat silently as he ate his meal, humbly listening to the conversations flowing around him. Despite the siblings bickering back and forth, he could hear that their words were filled with love. Growing up, Cliff had always dreamed of having a family as large as this one. But it wasn’t in the cards for him then and it wasn’t in the deck now.
As the dinner ended, Amy stepped away and returned with a few pies as dessert. Saliva pooled in his mouth at the thought of devouring a slice of Amy’s famous apple pie.
The matriarch plates him a large slice and he holds the scalloped edged plate with reverence. Taking a hearty bite, the crusty edges with the sweet inside melted in Cliff’s mouth and he has to fight back a groan of appreciation.
“This is the best pie I’ve ever had, Amy.”
“Why thank you, Cliff. It is nice to see someone taking the time to enjoy it instead of scarfing it down like everyone else at the table,” the mother of the family admonished. The table grew so quiet that the ticking of the clock on the fireplace mantle could be heard.
Cliff chuckled, his laughter breaking through the silence of the room and quickly others began to join in. The group offered their apologies to Amy before diving back into their desserts, but he didn’t miss the wink she aimed in his direction before enjoying her own piece of pie.
Down at the other end of the table, Dylan stood abruptly with his phone pressed to his ear, Sydney watched with alarm. Her expressive brown eyes bulged with alarm and her hand pressed to her mouth. Something has happened and by their expressions, Cliff was guessing that the news wasn’t a good one.
The people in the room stared and listened as Dylan gave one-word answers to the caller on the phone, his face developing an ashen shade with each passing moment. Cliff’s fear spiked, his skin grew clammy in expectancy as Dylan met his gaze. Patience had never been Cliff’s strong suit, and the seconds that passed were agonizing. Like shards of thin paper, Cliff’s skin felt as if it was being torn apart, shred by tormenting shred, bleeding out onto Amy’s gleaming hardwood floor, staining it.
Dylan ended his call and maintained his stare at Cliff. “I need you and Logan, now.” Standing without a second thought, his chair clattered to the floor behind him. Logan did the same, missing the look of alarm on Avery’s face as she cradled her stomach.
Questions were thrown across the room and Dylan shut them down with a hand raised in the air. “Listen. I don’t have a lot of information. I got a call that someone needs my help and they requested a doctor and someone that can protect the victim. That’s all that I know.”
“When will they be here?” Amy asked, the question on everyone’s mind. There was no other safer place for this person to come than to Carson. The caller must have known this fact, which left Cliff with only a few options running through his mind.
“They are twenty minutes out; just turned off the highway. Cliff, where should we go?”
“My studio. The building upstairs is monitored by my security system and I have sterile equipment at the shop for piercings. Logan can use it.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
Ten minutes later, the three men arrived at Cliff�
�s shop, parking the two vehicles behind the building and using the back entrance. Once they entered, Logan went to work unpacking his travel medical bag and sifting through the sterile cabinet Cliff mentioned to him on the way over. They aren’t sure what to expect when the victim arrived, just that there were multiple wounds.
As Cliff reset the security system, Dylan gripped him by the bicep.
“Cliff, I need you to know something before they get here.”
“Sure, man. What’s up?” Cliff tried to sound casual as he asked, but his pulse pounded differently.
“It is Alexis.”
Confused, Cliff replied, “What is?”
“The victim. It is Alexis.”
***
Blinking her eyes open, Alexis took in the ripped cloth of the seat pressed against her, then tried her best to turn her head in the other direction, but failed miserably. She was so weak. The last time she felt like this was when she had a bout of the stomach flu eight years ago, nearly rendering her useless for an entire week.
Agonizing pain rippled through her and moan escaped her lips as the car jostled over a bump in the road.
“Sorry. We’ll be there soon.”
Everything hurt. Alexis mentally took note of her white undershirt stained in red and the tourniquet securely placed on her thigh. She’d lost a lot of blood, too much blood.
“Heath,” she groaned in pain, doing all she could to fight against the darkness. Her time was almost up and it was closing in far too quickly.
“Don’t you fucking dare, Alexis. Hang on just another few minutes, we’re almost there.” Her friend turned his head to look at her in the back, and though she couldn’t see him well, she knew something must register his alarm because the car jerked as he increased his speed, jostling her in the process
Closing her eyes once more, she settled against the cushion, praying for peace to welcome her.
Whispered words sound close to her ear, offering reassurance as her body was lifted from the car. She barely had a chance to fall back asleep before Heath stopped the car with a jolt, the smell of burnt brakes lingered in the air. Opening her eyes took too much energy, instead she settled against the chest pressed at her side, savoring its warmth. With her face free from the musty seat cushion, Alexis took a deep breath. The smell of spring, freshly cut wood, and water assaulted her senses and Alexis immediately stiffened in the man’s arms. Well, as rigid as she could with her blood loss. She recognized that scent, and knew of only one man that wore the Burberry cologne - Cliff.
But what was she doing in Carson? That would mean that Heath drove almost twenty-four hours straight from their post in New Mexico.
“Calm down. You’re safe here,” Cliff whispered and her muscles relaxed. She knew that Carson was one of the safest places she could be, but she didn’t want to endanger the people that she had grown to love, or put Cliff at risk. She could defend herself, but these were simple townspeople.
He carried her through a door at the back of the building. The lights were too bright, causing her to squeeze her eyes tighter, her body flinched in reaction.
“Tell me what we’ve got,” she heard a familiar voice ask. Logan? He was the only doctor in town that she knew, besides Brooks, but the ex-baseball player was a pediatrician.
“Shot through and through to the right shoulder. Bullet hit in the upper portion of her right thigh. It is still lodged in place.”
“Fuck,” the doctor mumbled before he directed someone else in the room. “Dylan, I need you to gather bags of blood from the medical office. O negative. She’s lost a lot and I’m afraid we need it on hand for the surgery. Let’s hope the muscles are destroyed.”
“What about anesthesia?” Heath asked. She recognized his hand as it gripped hers tightly while Cliff settled her body on a cushioned bed.
“We don’t have time. I’ll do local anesthesia, but that’s the best I can do. If we don’t take care of this now, I’m afraid she’s going to have an hour or two tops.”
Low curses expelled from Heath as Dylan requested where to go at the medical office, promising to return quickly.
Cliff’s voice broke through the sounds of metal clanging close to her ear. She assumed it’s supplies for the emergency surgery.
“When she comes through this, I want a complete debriefing. But for now, you rest. I’ll make sure to get you some clothes too,” Cliff voiced in the direction where she heard Heath last.
“Thanks.” She listened to the sounds of her friend’s feet carrying him out of the room, hopefully to catch some much-needed shuteye. The place won’t matter to Heath, she’s watched him make camp on the floor of a dirty hotel room, scratchy rug and all.
Alexis jerked as cold fingers probe her shoulder, bringing her back to the moment. These weren’t the same gentle fingers that lifted her from the car.
“Shh,” a soothing voice whispered in her ear. She wanted so badly to scream, but even that took more energy than she had left.
“I’m going to numb the area on your shoulder, clean it, then stitch it up on both sides.”
Her neck stiffened as scissors slid across her skin, removing her shirt from her body. Cliff’s inhale of air didn’t go unnoticed by Alexis, but she had little time to dwell on his reaction. She imagined that she was covered in purple and black bruises, as well as the dried remains of blood and mud. Logan’s fingers swept across her wound and Alexis’s mind focused on the pain.
“Cliff, can you hold her head in place? I don’t want her to start thrashing. When Dylan returns, I’ll have him hold her arms and legs. I’ll be able to numb her, but I can’t promise that she won’t feel any pressure or pain.”
Strong hands moved to the sides of her head, but instead of fear or nervousness, Alexis reveled in his soothing touch. Cliff’s thumbs stroked back and forth along her hairline and she tried her damnedest to focus on that soothing touch instead of the prick of the needles along her shoulder wound.
Logan was able to clean and stitch the front side of her gash just as heavy footsteps pounded into the room. Dylan had returned with the bags of blood. He helped the men flip her onto her stomach so that Logan could close the wound on the back, the sting of the cool water and antibacterial soap used to clean the exit point was shocking and Alexis clenched her teeth to fight off the throb.
As the men flipped her back over to assess the wound on her leg, Alexis saw stars behind her closed eyelids. The pain was excruciating and the scream she kept buried inside escaped with a flourish. The tourniquet had been doing its job keeping the blood loss as minimal as possible, but as Logan released the tension in the belt around her thigh, all of the nerves in her leg came alive. She could feel every shred of material cut from her leg to expose the wound, every pulse of blood rushing toward her extremities.
The instant Logan’s fingers brushed across the ripped skin of her thigh, Alexis’ body jerked in response. Dylan held her arms and legs in place, her back arching as she tried to fight off the procedure.
“Shh,” Cliff whispered in her ear again, but even the gentle sound of his voice did little to soothe her. Her body was on fire from the ache.
Each poke from the numbing needle felt like a searing stake impaling her skin. Though the nerves around the opening were numb, she could feel every move of muscle, every prod against her bone as Logan searched for the bullet.
Alexis wanted to shout, wanted to yell from the rooftops to tell them to stop, that she couldn’t endure the pain any longer. Tears streamed from the corners of her eyes, soaking her hairline.
“I can’t take it anymore,” Alexis confessed silently.
Her breathing became rushed, erratic. Staccato inhales filled her lungs as she tried to fight off the torture.
“Calm down, Alexis. Please.”
Don’t they know I can’t?
But then gentle strokes wiped away the tears flowing from her eyes and a pair of the softest lips pressed against her forehead. It was the first moment of peace she had felt since she lan
ded in New Mexico months ago. And as the lips pulled away from her head, she tilted back craving their touch again. Wanting the moment of solitude they provided.
Alexis didn’t have to wait long. His forehead pressed against hers and calm washed over her. Somehow, some way, she had a connection to Cliff that she’d never experienced before. In the past, she had brushed it off as nothing more than a crush, but what if she had been wrong? He had the power to bring her peace in a time of chaos.
And as he spoke words from a prayer, Alexis hung onto each syllable, each consonant as it glided across her ears, basking in the tranquility. She no longer felt the tension in her leg, or the throbbing of the tugged muscles, or the pinch of her skin as Logan inserted an IV of blood; she only felt the comfort Cliff was providing. And Alexis wished that she could bottle it up and keep it for all time.
She wasn’t out of consciousness long, or it didn’t appear that way as the hushed voices of her saviors echoed in the space as they talked. Alexis hung onto their every word.
“Her entire team was killed. They were ambushed. Somehow our intel got word to the cartel that we were coming. They never had a chance.” That must be Heath explaining the situation.
A voice she recognized as Dylan’s piped in. “How did she get out?”
“Using the drone and layouts, I was able to guide her to a false air duct that let out on the side of the bunker. It was the cartel's escape route. She ran about ten miles, taking out five or six men in the process.”
“Damn,” another voice echoed outside the room.
Something soft brushed against the back of her hand and Alexis pried her eyes open, thankful that the room had been darkened, only a lamp in the corner provided any light. Turning her head, she was surprised to find Cliff resting on his arm beside her, her hand clasped inside his much larger one. Alexis took a moment to drink him in. His massive body cast in soft light and shadows looking just as handsome as she remembered.
Behind the Lens (Home in Carson Book 1) Page 4
