“I don’t fucking care. Help her.”
Two orderlies enter with a stretcher for me. It pains me to go, but the nurse is right that the sooner I heal up, the sooner I can be back at Rose’s side. I want to be the first face she sees when her eyes open.
Giving her hand another squeeze, I let the two orderlies lift me onto a stretcher and wheel me out.
She has to pull through. I won’t be able to live with myself if she doesn’t.
22
Rose
Someone needs to turn that shit off.
The repetitive beeping of what sounds like four out-of-sync alarm clocks seem quiet and far away, but gradually becomes so loud that it’s almost unbearable. I try to lift my hand and reach one of them, but it’s numb. It’s strange that one arm feels weighted down. I’m lying on my back, so it’s not like I fell asleep with my head resting on them. There’s a light on somewhere above me, piercing my eyelids, pushing me to open my eyes, but even that feels like a lot of work. It’s as if some invisible person is trying to wrench me awake, even though I only fell into a deep sleep only minutes ago.
Something about it causes my body to tense up. At that movement, I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. Then I remember.
The attack. Thorne was hurt. There was so much blood. My shoulder.
The vision of all that blood hits me hard and I grip the bedsheets, pushing off the mattress with the other arm to try and sit up. But I can hardly lift my head off the pillow, let alone lift up my torso. Whatever is beeping turns into a screeching alert that makes my pulse jump.
“Oh my gosh,” I try to say the words as I force my eyes to open. “I have to get him some help.” My voice doesn’t sound like mine. It’s rough and slow, and it hurts to talk. My throat is so dry. But none of that matters if I can’t call someone for help. Remembering my phone, I reach down to where my jeans pocket should be and find a thin fabric. Why am I nude from the waist down? Panicking, the shot of adrenaline moving through me pushes back the cloud that’s masking my vision, and when I’m finally able to use my eyes again, I breathe. My eyes well up. He’s the first person I see.
“Thorne?” I croak through the tightness in my throat, ignoring the pain and discomfort.
“Welcome back, Little Red.” Thorne takes my hand and lowers his face to my cheek. He kisses me softly and whispers at my ear, “You gave me a scare. I hope you know I’ll have to punish you for that… but later.”
I smile and squeeze his hand. “Deal.”
“You need to rest,” he tells me, taking a seat on my bed. “Doctor’s orders. And try not to speak.”
“My throat… so dry.”
Thorne grabs the water on the tray beside the bed and slides his hand under my head, lifting my lips to the cup’s paper rim. My first gulp takes a while to go down, but it’s such a relief. I didn’t realize I could be that thirsty. I only stop drinking after he refills the cup the fourth time.
“Are you all right?” I ask.
He opens one side of his zippered sweater and shows me the bandaged areas around his chest and above one shoulder. “It fucking hurts, but the doctors say that I’m fine. The wound will heal over time. The bullets did a number on me, but these doctors are the best.”
“Thank God. You lost so much blood, I was so afraid you wouldn’t…,” I start to admit but stop myself.
“I’m right here. Nothing a few pints of O positive and experienced surgeons couldn’t fix.”
“Good.” I start to wonder how he’s up and moving around before I am. “How long have I been unconscious?”
“Four days. The doctor will explain, but there was a complication during the surgery. I don’t really understand, but they had a problem getting the bullet out. He should be here anytime now.”
“Where are we? A hospital?” I ask, looking around the sparsely furnished room. There’s one visitor’s chair, the monitoring equipment attached to me, fluorescent light above me, one door, and white walls. No windows.
“Something like that,” Thorne answers. “It’s a private trauma clinic… courtesy of the money I earned from my employer over the years. Former employer. You’re better off not knowing anything more than that.”
“With no windows?” For a second, I thought I was in jail.
He furrows his brows. “They’ve pulled out all the stops to keep the location unknown… even to patients.”
“That’s a bit extreme.”
“Wait until the orderly puts a black bag over our heads when it’s time to check out,” he adds.
“Wow.” The mention of eventually leaving this place brings on a slew of sobering questions. Is Grams still okay? If they found me, they could’ve found her out east too. Are there any more people after me? If it’s over now, will Thorne ride off into the sunset alone, or did he mean it when he said we’d protect each other for as long as it takes? Was what we shared as real for him as it was for me? I know that I meant it, but I don’t know what he’s thinking. This can very well be the end of the line for me and the only man to ever touch my heart.
I’m so overcome that I can’t think of what to ask first.
“You should try to get some rest.” His deep voice reassures me somehow. “I’ll find the doctor.”
“Wait,” I say pleadingly as he moves to stand, my hand gripping his with a desperation I didn’t think I had in me.
He runs his fingertips over the side of my cheek and smooths my hair back. “What’s up?”
I feel stupid. The words won’t come. All I want is the man in front of me, yet I can’t bring myself to find out what we are to each other. But I need to know.
The creak of the door swinging open pulls us from the intense moment, and Thorne leans back to look around.
A middle-aged female doctor walks in, followed by a male nurse. The nurse checks my vitals as the doctor fills me in on the unexpected hemorrhaging that took place while I was under the knife. “You’re stable now,” the doctor says, wrapping it up. “We’ll keep you for observation for another two or three days, but rest assured, you’re in good hands.”
“That’s a relief,” I answer.
“Be sure to rest up,” she orders as she turns to leave with the nurse. “Good night, Miss McClintock.”
It’s strangely cathartic hearing her say my real name. Maybe things will be different now. Maybe I’m finally going to be free of my past.
“That’s good news,” Thorne speaks up when we’re alone again. “Just a few more days and we can blow this joint.”
“Yes, that’s awesome,” I agree.
“So… what were you going to ask me just now?” He peers down at me, studying my face, waiting for me to speak.
“You… we… this… What I’m trying to say is—”
“You’re mine, Rose,” he whispers, cutting me off. “And I’m yours. That’s how it’s going to be. Don’t even think for one second that I’ll let someone like you get away.”
In an instant, his mouth is on mine as his hands cup my face. His kiss takes away all my questions, swallowing them up the same way he steals my breath. I grip the back of his sweater, pressing him to me with my good hand. My heart is so full because of this man. He’s unlocked a part of me I didn’t think existed. I feel the tears fall from my eyes, smearing both our faces. No matter where tomorrow takes us, no matter if we don’t have another minute together after this, he has changed me for the better and I can’t be more grateful than I am now.
He lifts from me and pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “The south pacific is great this time of year,” he says, and shows me the document.
It’s an itinerary for a week from now.
A flight.
And we’re both on it. Well, Lenny and Riley James are.
“Which one of us is Lenny, and who’s Riley?” I ask, trying to smile at our aliases. But my voice hitches. Tears flood my vision again. I swallow hard and blink through my tears.
“Doesn’t matter. I have to take care of a few thi
ngs but after it’s done, we’re going away.”
“Together?”
He nods.
It’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. A partner. A lover. An equal. A man who can handle every aspect of the real me, and still comes back for more.
“We are,” he whispers, nodding. “Whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. Deal?”
I nod. I couldn’t ask for more.
Within a week of his release from the private clinic, Thorne uses every resource and calls in every favor at his disposal to make a clean break for us. He returned to his safe house in the woods. Not too far from the property, he found the decomposing body of the man who shot us. Thank goodness Thorne’s aim was dead on. That man’s death provides the means for Thorne and me to disappear. Torching the safe house, Thorne left behind enough of his and my DNA along with the attacker’s body to convince his employer that none of us survived the blaze. I asked him how. I wanted details, specifics. Stolen cadavers, organic hospital waste from both our surgeries, and bloody bandages aren’t enough for me. I want all of it, to strip apart every step from A to Z. But he reassures me that he did this stuff for a living. He made a lot of people disappear for his former employer and this one last time, he took every possible precaution, and he did it for us.
Soon, we’ll leave the country.
Nothing is foolproof, though. There will always be risks that threaten us. It will take time, but we’ll get there.
Together.
Epilogue - Rose
Grams always told me I’d find my very own slice of paradise one day.
She was right.
I gaze out at the sparkling emerald ocean outside our beach cottage. My heartbeat races, and I’m almost sure I feel our baby kick on one side of my growing belly when I see Thorne’s on his way back to me. It’s been an uneventful pregnancy so far. In three more months, he or she will be here. Thorne and I prefer to find out if it’s a girl or boy on delivery day. We can’t wait to meet him or her.
The small motorboat we use to get around this intricate chain of Pacific islands crests on the horizon again. It’s a dinky little speedboat, with just a wooden plank to sit on while steering the engine at the stern, and another plank halfway to the bow. When we first moved here, a fisherman we hired would transport us around. He was the one who pointed us to this vessel, up for sale by one of his fellow fishermen. I felt it’d give us more freedom to move around while we’re here. When Thorne saw how much I wanted it, he bought it and learned out how to operate it that same day.
Then he taught me what he learned.
That’s the Thorne I fell in love with. We’re still as competitive as ever, but I’ve found that our loyalty and devotion to each other keeps growing every day we’re together.
He asked me one day what I thought of marriage. I think he was impressed but slightly disappointed when I answered that I felt the institution was great in theory, perfect and sacred for people with normal lives. But not for us. Not folks like us who live on the fringe and find comfort in the safety of the shadows.
But I took it all back the day he got down on one knee outside our cabin on the white sandy beach, took my left hand, and slid on the most stunning diamond engagement ring I’d ever seen.
I said yes.
One day soon, I’ll be his under God, and by law, and he’ll be mine. Even if we never do, it doesn’t change what I feel about him. In my heart, I’m as much his wife as he is my husband. When the time comes, perhaps we’ll secretly fly Grams and Great Uncle Charles to the island, hire a local minister, and have a quaint little ceremony at the ocean’s shoreline.
I daydream a lot about a fantasy guest list, one where everyone I care about can be here with us. Trish and Luke would be so excited to travel out here. I can quickly relate to how guest lists have a way of expanding, as I picture Jeff and Bex from the Speak-Easy wanting to be here for me too. Maybe Thorne’s friend, Bridges will be able to make it too. I met him very briefly before we left the country, and can see how he and Thorne are such good friends. He takes Thorne’s intensity down a notch, and Thorne keeps Bridges from getting into too much trouble.
After the big raid and explosion at Murphy’s mansion, Bridges left the company. Although he still hasn’t been able to gather any solid proof that his late wife, Dawn’s death was no accident, he couldn’t stomach the idea of working for the organization that very likely had a part in covering it up. He’s working in a security job with Arnie Hamilton, a state senator that he and Thorne did a stint with while they were in the army.
A bittersweet sense of sadness comes over me, and my fingertips slide over my earring as I picture what my parents might be like if they were with us. They’d love Thorne, I think, or at least would love how happy he makes me. I wish they could be here to meet their grandchild. I wish my baby could have a bond with them like I do with Grams. Maybe out here, in the middle of paradise, they’re looking down on all of us, happy about the way my life has turned out so far.
I look across the shoreline. My heart starts to race again when I see Thorne guiding the boat over to the small wooden dock on the beach. He waves when he sees me step out on the porch, and raises the two pineapples he bought from the market on the main island a few miles away. I can’t hold back the smile that plays on my lips. It’s a little thing, but I adore that he always remembers my favorites. I love him so much.
Thorne ties up the boat, and brings over the two laden baskets of meat and produce he purchased. He stops at the bottom of the porch steps and just stands there. His relaxed smile brightens his gray eyes, which look deep blue so close to the water.
“How was your morning?” he asks from the bottom of the steps. “And how was it for our baby?”
“Pretty quiet for both of us,” I answer, and meet him on the stairs, wrapping my arms around his neck when I’m a step from the bottom. “You left before I woke up.”
His beard brushes along the side of my face as he nods. “Yeah, I wanted to beat the morning rush at the fruit stand and get back to you sooner.”
“Oh, you did? And why is that?” I ask in a throaty whisper.
“Give me a second and I’ll show you, sexy.”
I’m not sure how he does it with his hands full, but he picks me up and carries me inside. He maneuvers the baskets onto the kitchen counter of our open concept home, then moves across the room, lowering me to sit on the edge of the dining table. My fingers run through the back of his hair, pulling me closer, and he plants a long, rough kiss on my lips, stealing my breath. I wrap my legs around his hips and lean into his torso. My baby bump is starting to take up more room between us. I don’t think I can ever be too close. I’m sure I’ll never have enough of him.
“I missed you,” I confess when he pulls away.
“Me too, babe. And you know what?”
“What?” I ask.
“I love it when you grind your sweet little body on me,” he whispers. “I love you, Little Red.”
“I love you too,” I answer. “So much.” My heart is bare all of a sudden in the midst of this sensual moment, but I know he can handle it. He enjoys that side of me, and I’m so glad to have a man like him. He appreciates my love of knives and guns, my stubborn, fighting spirit, and that I’m a tomboy as much as I am the soft, mushy bits. That is me. And as he drags off my clothes and makes wild love to me right on this table, I can only see us getting closer and closer in our own perfect weapons-loving, rough and tumble happily ever after.
The END
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Bella is a Wall Street Journal (Begging for Bad Boys) and USA Today Bestselling Author (Begging for Bad Boys, Alphas for the Holidays. Shifters in the Snow: Bundle of Joy, Shifters in the Shadows), who loves writing steamy, high-action romance stories about bad boys, athletes, firefighters, billionaires, and alpha males who know what they want and aren't afraid of laying claim to the women who catch their interest.
Wolf (Tall, Dark and Dangerous Book 2) Page 11
