by Kaylea Cross
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rayne stood back while the paramedics rushed Christa to the ambulance, his whole body shaking in the aftermath of the adrenaline crash. When he’d fired she’d hit the ground like a rock and for a moment he’d thought he’d somehow missed, and she’d been hit. But Sutherland’s brain matter splattered all over the ground proved Rayne had hit the bastard right at the base of the spinal cord, severing it, and preventing him from getting a sympathetic reflex shot off. And still he’d held on to Christa, even in death.
He felt like he was losing it. If he’d missed by a few inches Christa would be the one sprawled in the wet grass with the back of her head blown off.
Nate ran up to him but he shoved him aside and kept heading for the ambulance. “Get the fuck out of my way,” he snarled, half crazy with fear.
Nate grabbed him around the chest, shook him once. “Give them a minute, Hutch. You know they’re trying to stabilize her, and the best way you can help her is to stay out of their way.”
Every cell in his body was screaming at him to go to her, but somehow he stood there as they lifted her inert form into the ambulance. After what seemed like eternity, one of the paramedics stuck his head out. “Anybody here named Rayne?”
He jumped in beside her and took her chilled hand in his. She was pale, bleeding from dozens of cuts, and no telling what the damage was like on the inside. “I’m here, darlin’, I’m right here. You’re going to be okay.” Her eyes opened a fraction and his heart squeezed.
“Keep her awake,” the paramedic told him as he reported her status to the hospital. “ALS-81, we’ve got a 25-year-old female, involved in a rollover MVA, inbound ETA 10. Patient presents with left shoulder, and upper-left quadrant abdominal pain, area rigid and swollen. Probable internal bleeding. Patient is semi-alert. Pulse is thready, B.P. sixty over forty and dropping. ”
Rayne’s stomach plummeted.
“Pupils dilated and slow to respond. Probable concussion.”
He leaned over her and cupped her pale, blood-streaked face in his hands. “Stay with me, Chris. Come on darlin’, open your eyes and look at me.” He stroked her cheek, watched her fight to open disoriented blue eyes and peer up at him. “I’m here, sweetheart,” he repeated, his eyes wet as he gazed back at her. “You’re going to be okay, Chris. Just keep looking at me, all right?”
If he lived to be a hundred, he’d never forget the way she’d looked at him and told him she loved him right before he took Sutherland down. He’d never been so fucking scared in his entire life, and the nightmare wasn’t over yet.
“Patient Tachycardia, B.P. fifty over thirty-seven, unstable,” the paramedic radioed and glanced at Rayne. “The trauma team’s standing by for us in the E.R once we offload. She’ll more than likely go straight into the O.R. for surgery from there.”
Fear flooded him as he continued murmuring to her, maintaining eye contact and willing her to fight. He couldn’t lose her, he just couldn’t. She would be okay, and then they could get on with their life together. He refused to accept any other alternative.
The few minutes it took to speed to the hospital were the longest of his life, and by the time they arrived Christa’s eyes were closed. “Don’t you leave me, Chris,” he croaked, clinging to her hand as the medical team offloaded her from the ambulance. He squeezed her hand hard, needing to get through to her. Maybe she could still hear him, still feel him. “I love you, don’t leave me. Please.” The last word tore from his raw throat in a strangled sob.
“Sir, you’ll have to go to the waiting area now.” A nurse elbowed him away from the stretcher. “We need to get her transferred and into surgery right away.”
Releasing her hand was the hardest thing he’d ever done. He bent and kissed her blood-smeared lips before they whisked her away from him.
Seconds after the doors shut behind her, Rayne bent over at the waist, gulping air into his lungs. His knees buckled, sending him to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. Fatigue and fear crashed over him and he gagged, stumbled into the men’s room and threw up until he was dry heaving. How could he bear it if he lost her?
When the spasms passed he slid down and dropped his spinning head into his hands. A moment later a hand touched his shoulder. He lifted haunted eyes to find Drew standing over him, his face drawn.
“You okay?”
No, he wasn’t okay. He was terrified Christa was going to die. “Yeah.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up and go sit in the waiting room.”
Nate and Teryl, who was also in a hospital gown, were already there. Not speaking, all four of them sat like shipwreck victims, tracking the minute hand as it crept around the clock.
****
Christa awoke in a strange room with a dry throat and a dull pain in her abdomen. With supreme effort she opened her eyes and gazed around...a hospital room. The accident...crawling out of the crashed sedan, Seth dragging her with him at gunpoint. Looking down into Rayne’s eyes behind the crosshairs of a rifle. The release of the safety catch on the pistol, the crack of Rayne’s rifle. The blackness and the hideous pain clawing in her belly when she came to.
But she was alive. By some miracle, she was still here.
Her throat worked as she swallowed. If Rayne had missed that shot, she would be dead.
Rayne. He’d been beside her in the ambulance, talking to her the whole time. He wouldn’t be far away, right? She turned her head, wincing as a hot, bright pain split her skull. When she opened her eyes again she saw him looking out the window, his back to her.
“Rayne,” she managed in a croak. His head whipped around and as he came over to gather her up in his arms his eyes were suspiciously wet.
“Sweetheart,” he whispered, his face pressed into her hair. His broad shoulders shook. Those arms around her felt like heaven.
She patted his back, swallowed a cluster of tears. “What’s wrong?” The words hurt her raspy throat. “Am I going to die?”
He buried his wet face into her neck a moment longer, just holding on. “No. You’re not going to die. I’m just a bit of a wreck right now.” He kissed her chapped lips and eased her down to the pillow. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore. What did they do to me?”
“They had to take out your spleen because you were bleeding internally,” he explained, settling next to her hip on the narrow bed. “You’ve got a concussion and some badly bruised ribs, but your doc said you’ll be going home in a couple of days.”
“It hurts when I take a deep breath. I remember trying to get out of the wreck.” Metal screaming apart around her...
“Oh, God, don’t talk about that yet.” He tightened his hold, as if to reassure himself she was okay.
Her mind flashed images at her like clips of a movie reel, and she saw herself staring down at the gun in her ribcage as they raced down the highway. “I crashed the car, like Nate told me.”
He laced his fingers through hers and swore under his breath, took a calming breath. “If you hadn’t done it, you probably wouldn’t be her right now. You’re so goddamn brave you terrify me.”
That hit home, and she started to tremble. “But it’s all over now, right?”
“It’s over.”
The constriction in her throat nearly choked her. “So he’s...dead?”
He met her gaze. Nodded.
A barrage of emotions hit her. Elation that it was over, that she could get on with her life without fear of being raped or murdered; guilt that Rayne had been the one forced to take the shot. He’d been through so much with her already, and it must have been hell for him to aim the rifle, to have to kill to save her, as he’d been unable to for little Daniel.
“You okay?” She lifted a hand to his haggard face.
He leaned into her touch, gave a brave attempt at a smile. “Now that I know you’re okay, yeah.”
They both had so much to work through, so many scars to heal. But she could do it. With him beside her, she could do anything
.
She suddenly remembered why she’d left Rayne’s condo in the first place. “What about the baby? Do you know if Teryl’s okay?”
A mixture of relief and regret crossed his face. “She’s upset that she lost the baby, but she feels even worse about you. She feels responsible for everything that happened because you tried to get to the hospital to see her.”
She let out a breath, careful of her stitches. “It’s not her fault.” She reached for him and he drew her into a hug, careful of her ribs and incision, chasing away the chill with his warmth. “Do you think you could just hold onto me and not let go for about a week?”
“God, yes.”
She tried blink the moisture away from her eyes, but they filled too fast. Tears spilled over. “I’ve got a ton of emotional baggage to deal with. Are you sure you still want to move in with me?”
He set her away from him and took her face between his hands, brushing away her tears with his thumbs. “I’m sure, darlin’. You’re stuck with me.”
She sniffled. “Promise?”
He rested his forehead against hers. “Cross my heart.”
Epilogue
He’d brought her home. Her bedroom had been completely redone, and he’d bought them a new king-sized bed. At first he’d been dead set against moving back in here but she’d worn him down. She was ready for this. Coming home was a major step for her in the healing process, and she was ready to get back to the rest of her life. Her precious, bright-futured life with him.
“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?” he asked as he carried her.
She smiled against his throat and nodded in reassurance. “For the hundredth time, I’m sure. Where are you taking me anyway?”
Rayne made his way through the living room, ordering Jake out of the way when he danced too close to them. “You’ll see.”
He carried her out the French doors to the patio, through the garden to a pocket of lawn tucked amongst the flowerbeds while Jake ran circles around them. The scent of roses and honeysuckle made her smile, reminding her of Charleston, and she closed her eyes to breathe in the sweet summer air. Sunlight streamed through the leafy branches, dappling them in shadow and light. The warmth bathed her upturned face, feeding her starved senses. A bee hummed past, the drone of a distant lawn mower melding with Rayne’s footsteps, hushed by the grass.
“Here we are.”
She opened her eyes. He’d spread a blanket on the mowed lawn, covered it with her favorite foods. A platter of watermelon, grapes and raspberries sat alongside a pasta salad and an oversized chocolate cake. Champagne chilled in one of her gardening buckets.
“Oh ...”
He laid her carefully on the blanket and propped pillows around her so she wouldn’t strain her incision, then settled behind to brace her. “Like it?”
A sappy grin formed on her mouth. “I love it.”
Dropping a kiss to her shoulder he tucked the plush robe he’d bought for her around her legs and reached past her to grab the bottle. “Champagne, to celebrate us moving in together.”
Her throat closed up, it was too much.
He wrapped an arm around her. “Sweetheart, please don’t cry. I can’t stand it when you cry.”
“I can’t help it. I’m just so h-happy.”
“Good.” He kissed her neck and placed a flute of bubbly in her hand, then poured one for himself and raised it. “To us.”
“To us,” she echoed, loving the sound of that. She tipped the flute and took a mouthful of the sweet liquid, was about to swallow when something hit her lip. Frowning, she held the glass up to the light.
And found a ring.
She gasped, dumped the champagne through her fingers and caught the ring in her hand. Diamonds and aquamarines, and it looked old. “Oh!”
Rayne grinned. “My great-grandmother’s. She was married to my great-grandfather for over sixty years, so I know it’s good luck.” He took it from her numbed fingers and sank onto one knee in front of her, the timeless, courtly gesture turning her heart over.
“I know we were going to take it one day at a time, but we’ve already been through so much together, I figure anything else life can dish at us will be nothing by comparison.” His smile made her catch her breath, probably always would. “I love you more than anything, darlin’, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
Unable to speak past the lump in her throat, she held out her arms to him and nodded.
He grinned. “That’s a yes?”
Her heart was going to burst. She nodded again as a tiny sob burst free, wiggled her hand until he slid the ring onto her finger. Then she was hugging him, kissing his face. Jake bounded over and joined in, licking Rayne’s ear until he shoved him away with a laugh.
Holding her close, Rayne tumbled her back against the pillows. He took her face in his hands and smoothed her hair, that loving smile spearing right through her. No matter what the future held for them, all she had to do was look into those hazel eyes to know she was already batting a thousand.
—The End—
Dear reader,
Thank you for reading Out of Her League. I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like to stay in touch with me and be the first to learn about new releases you can:
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Kaylea
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
NY Times and USA Today Bestselling author Kaylea Cross writes edge-of-your-seat military romantic suspense. Her work has won many awards, including the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence, and has been nominated multiple times for the National Readers’ Choice Awards. A Registered Massage Therapist by trade, Kaylea is also an avid gardener, artist, Civil War buff, Special Ops aficionado, belly dance enthusiast and former nationally-carded softball pitcher. She lives in Vancouver, BC with her husband and family.
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COMPLETE BOOKLIST
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Vengeance Series
Stealing Vengeance
Covert Vengeance
Explosive Vengeance
Toxic Vengeance
Crimson Point Series
Fractured Honor
Buried Lies
Shattered Vows
Rocky Ground
DEA FAST Series
Falling Fast
Fast Kill
Stand Fast
Strike Fast
Fast Fury
Fast Justice
Fast Vengeance
Colebrook Siblings Trilogy
Brody’s Vow
Wyatt’s Stand
Easton’s Claim
Hostage Rescue Team Series
Marked
Targeted
Hunted
Disavowed
Avenged
Exposed
Seized
Wanted
Betrayed
Reclaimed
Shattered
Guarded
Titanium Security Series
Ignited
Singed
Burned
Extinguished
Rekindled
Blindsided: A Titanium Christmas novella
Bagram Special Ops Series
Deadly Descent
Tactical Strike
Lethal Pursuit
Danger Close
Collateral Damage
Never Surrender (a MacKenzie Family novella)
Suspense Series
Out of Her League
Cover of Darkness
No Turning Back
Relentless
Absolution
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
Empowered Series
Darkest Caress
HISTORICAL ROMANCE
The Vacant Chair
EROTIC ROMANCE (writing as Callie Croix)
Deacon’s Touch
Dillon’s Claim
No Holds Barred
Touch Me
Let Me In
Covert Seduction
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