by Lexy Timms
She was stubborn to her core, and if she got her way, she would bleed out before she got down the damn stairs.
“I’ve got you,” I said. “Just hang on, okay?”
The elevator was sinking at a snail’s pace like we were moving through Jell-O. I was trying to put on a brave face for her and be the person she needed me to be right now. But she was moaning in pain, and I could feel the life dripping from her body. She felt light as a feather in my arms, her muscles going limp as her eyes finally closed.
“Sam? Sam! Don’t go to sleep. You can’t pass out on me.”
The elevator was still ticking down as I held her close to my chest.
“Sam, please. You have to hang on, please. For me,” I said in a whisper.
Why the fuck did she do that? Why the hell did she throw herself in front of that damn bullet? The elevator doors finally opened as Sam’s eyes opened wide, the pain robbing her of her breath. I stepped out of the elevator and ran for the front doors. The security guards’ eyes were wide as I barreled past them, slamming out the front door and walking down the steps.
“Get the hell out of my way,” I said. “Move! Now!”
The private ambulance pulled up and took Sam from my arms. They began inserting IVs and pumping her with fluids as another tended to the wound in her arm. Sam just lay there, weak and unresponsive as they heaved her into the car that would whisk her away to a private clinic, one that would give her top-notch care.
“Why the hell did you do that?” I asked as I laid my forehead against hers. “Why did you jump in front of that bullet?”
“Kind of my job,” Sam said breathlessly.
“Sam?” I asked. “Sam, can you hear me?”
“Unfortunately.”
I chuckled as I shook my head before I took her hand in mine. “You shouldn’t have done that. Where was your gun? Don’t you have a damn knife you could’ve thrown?”
“Even the greats make mistakes,” she said.
“You’re not great. You’re perfect. What happened? Where the hell was your weapon?”
She hissed as someone started playing around with her arm.
“She’s nicked her brachial artery. Call the doctor. Tell him we’re going to need blood on site.”
“Oxygen. He heartrate is skyrocketing.”
“She’s gonna crash.”
“Crash?”
“She’s gonna have a heart attack.”
“Sam!”
Her eyes shut again as someone shoved me out of the way. The ambulance was rushing at top speeds, jostling us around as her arm continued to bleed. One of the paramedics was calling someone while another was applying pressure on her arm above the wound. I felt her hand go limp in mine as her heart rate monitor began droning.
“Sam! Wake the fuck up!” I cried.
“If there’s someone she would want to call, I suggest you do it,” a paramedic said to me.
I looked up at her as my mind came to a dead stop. Call? What did she mean by that? I sat back in the ambulance as the paramedics fussed over an unconscious Sam as tears pooled in my eyes.
Was she going to die? Was that what the paramedic meant?
Without thinking, I pulled my phone from my pocket. I dialed John’s number and listened as his gruff voice happened on the other line. I didn’t know what to say. What would Sam want him to do in a situation like this?
“Mr. Steele?” John asked. “Are you there?”
“Yes. Sorry. There’s been an incident at my office. Sam’s been shot,” I said.
“Where are you? I’m coming to you guys.”
“You know that’s not what she would want. I’ve got her in the best care money can buy in this city. Hold your position at the house in case something happens there. I don’t see us returning for a couple of days. Sam’s losing a lot of blood.”
“Where the hell has she been shot?” he asked.
“Her arm. The paramedics said she nicked her brachial artery.”
“Shit.”
“It’s bad. Hold your position and—”
“Who the fuck shot her?” he hissed, cutting me off. “Did you see who it was?”
“Jacob Carl,” I said.
“What?”
“Jacob Carl was the one who shot Sam.”
I talked back and forth with John as we pulled into my private facility. The ambulance doors opened after I’d hung up the phone and Dr. Farlow was standing there to receive her. I hopped out and jogged next to the gurney Sam was lying on, her body unconscious and her arm still fucking bleeding.
“I need four pints of O positive blood and a prepped OR as quickly as you can get it for me,” the doctor said. “I also want IV bags with clotting agents as well as blood thinners on standby. I want to be ready for anything this woman throws at us before we can get her stable.”
“She crashed in the ambulance. We shocked her back, but her heart rate’s still unstable,” one of the paramedics said.
“Mr. Steele, the nurse will take you to the recovery room she’ll be delivered to,” the doctor said.
“I’m not leaving her side,” I said.
“You have to for now. I’ve got this. She’ll be back with you in a while. Let me do what I do,” the doctor said.
I stopped jogging as Sam was wheeled through two massive automatic double doors. Everyone was running alongside her as a nurse grabbed my arm. She tugged me in the direction of the best facilities this town had to offer, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Sam.
I watched her disappear around the corner, her lifeless hand hanging off the gurney.
If that son of a bitch killed Sam, I’d wreck everything I’d built to find him. I’d wrap my hands around his neck and watch the life drain from his eyes.
Jacob Carl better fucking pray Sam made it out of this alive. Because if she didn’t, there was no prison that would be able to protect him from me.
None whatsoever.
Chapter 2
Sam
I WOKE TO THE SOUNDS of beeping and murmuring. The lingering smell of disinfectant hung in the air, but the light in the room was dimmed. I could feel the IVs running in and out of my body. I had an oxygen tube on my face, shooting air through my nose. My head felt dizzy, and my stomach felt uneasy.
And fuck, my arm was on fire.
My eyes fluttered open, and I looked all around me. I wasn’t in a traditional hospital, that much was for sure. The bed was too comfortable, and the blankets were too luxurious. I was on fucking Egyptian cotton sheets in a room big enough to be my damn living area. There was an open door in the corner that boasted of an in-ground jet tub and a walk-in shower.
Where the hell was I?
I turned my head, grimacing at the pain that shot through my shoulder. Derek was asleep in a chair next to me, his hand lying across my wrist. The nighttime sky had covered the whole of San Francisco, and suddenly the events of the day came rushing back to me.
The washroom suite.
Derek’s office.
The gun.
Jacob.
How the fuck did I miss it? How the hell did I not see that coming? He was the only person I didn’t regard as a suspect, and that was because I’d allowed Derek’s opinion of him to influence me. In my defense, he had been fucking attacked in the parking garage, and with the angle of trajectory when it came to his wound, there was no way he could inflict it himself.
Had he paid someone to attack him? If so, who? Was it just a fluke? Something coincidental I had linked because of my own short-sightedness.
Even knowing who the hell had been threatening Derek still left me with more questions than answers.
“Sam?”
Derek’s voice, full of sleep and worry, caused me to shift and hiss in pain.
“Stop, stop, stop. Don’t try to move. Hold on.”
I heard a few beeps before the top of my hand felt cold.
“That should help with the pain,” Derek said.
“We need to talk,” I said. I clicked my
tongue on the roof of my mouth. Shit. It felt like I was chewing on cotton. My lips were chapped, and my tongue was sticking to the back of my teeth.
“Here, drink this,” Derek said.
I felt a straw dancing along my lips. I started to drink, moaning at the cold liquid sloshed around in my mouth. I sipped and sipped again. I heaved, and then I sipped some more. I drained the cup, not caring about what I looked like as a dribble of water crept from the side of my mouth.
It slid down my cheek, finding its end on Derek’s thumb as he wiped it across my skin.
“Th-Thanks.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “As far as talking, you can rest for now. You’re in a private care facility. No one can get to us here.”
“Except the guy down the hall,” I said. “I can’t fucking believe I missed that.”
“No one saw it coming. Even my security guards were stunned when I told them to keep an eye out for Jacob,” he said.
“It’s my job to see shit like this coming. I allowed your opinion of him to influence me from the beginning.”
“Sure. I’ll take the blame if you want me to.”
I tossed him a look as I pushed myself up in bed.
“Am I on a memory foam mattress?” I asked.
“Do you care?” Derek asked.
“Fine. Whatever. Look, we need to talk about where we go from here. Can you hand me my phone? I need to call John.”
“Already did. I figured you would want him to stay put, so I told him to stay stationed at the house. He knows you’ve been shot, but he also knows you’re stable.”
“You called John.”
“Yep.”
“And told him to stay at your house,” I said.
“Uh-huh.”
“Right. Okay. Well, we still need to figure out where to go from here.”
“There’s nowhere to go,” he said. “The case has been solved. We know who was stalking me and leaving those letters.”
“That doesn’t answer who the hell attacked him in the parking garage,” I said.
“Probably someone he hired to throw us off his trail. And it worked,” he said.
“I think we need to escalate things to the police. Get them involved. Because if you wait, Jacob will be able to drain the company of money and take off. He might not be able to hide in the criminal underworld, as you so elegantly put it, but he has access to drain you of enough funds to make it possible to disappear.”
“You’re assuming all of that is happening because my security guards didn’t detain Jacob,” Derek said.
“Have you hired new ones since I flirted my way in?” I asked.
Derek fell silent at my question, and I grinned.
“I’m still hesitant to involve the police. If this becomes public, it’s going to cause a great deal of turmoil at my company. I could lose contracts. Others could get put on hold. My stocks will plummet, and my investors will be hesitant to invest their personal funds. It could be catastrophic for what I’ve built.”
“Jacob tried to shoot you dead. And you heard what he said in that office. Had you not chucked that paperweight at his head, he was prepared to kill us both. We can’t let him get away with that. And right now, he is,” I said.
“Look, shit like this isn’t supposed to happen. I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything. I’m confused as to how in the world the only man I’ve ever fully trusted in this company came to hate me so much. And then seeing you shot and fall to the floor—”
I watched him as he curled in on himself. He retreated into a box I’d never seen before. I studied him, watching him throw up wall after wall as he tried to conceal his own emotions. He was unraveling as I sighed and leaned into the very comfortable pillows that sat behind my head.
“Jacob Carl tried to kill us. The police have to know that,” I said.
“I know you’re right. Just ... give me a second to process it,” Derek said.
I sat there, allowing the silence to descend on us. I closed my eyes, trying to piece together everything that made sense now that we knew who had been leaving all those letters. But there were still unanswered questions, things that kept this case as open as it had been a few hours ago before Jacob had pulled a gun on his fucking boss.
“At least my house should be safer now,” Derek said. “It’s not like we don’t know who to watch out for anymore.”
“That’s one of the things still bothering me,” I said.
“What is?”
“How he kept gaining entry into your home. I mean, letting him through the gate is understandable. He’s a good friend and a man of the company. Your prior security team would’ve let him in with no issues. Hell, I would've done the same thing. But he’s not some powerful spy. He’s a businessman. How did he know the codes to get into your home?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Figured you would find out eventually,” he said.
“My first instinct is to say he had someone from your old security team on his payroll. It would make sense since the letters started coming to your office after you laid off Griggs and the gang.”
“That a new band?”
“Is this really a time for jokes?” I asked.
“Anything to get my mind off the past few hours.”
There was that look again, that guarded look he kept giving me whenever I caught his eyes. I furrowed my brow, feeling his hand squeeze my wrist mindlessly. I looked down at the connection and tried to ignore the heat cascading through my veins.
“What happened to me?” I asked.
“You jumped in front of a bullet and got shot,” Derek said.
“Not what I meant, asshole.”
Derek sighed as he pulled his hand away from me, and all I wanted was for him to put it back.
“The bullet nicked your brachial artery. You were practically bleeding out in the office. After you lunged for Jacob, and I got you stable on your feet, you went pale. Collapsed. I carried you to the emergency elevator and blood was just pouring from you like a small river. A steady stream I had no idea how to stop.”
I watched him clench his jaw as I sighed deeply.
“You lost consciousness in the elevator but came to before getting you into the ambulance. Do you remember any of that?”
“Not yet,” I said.
“Your heart rate was through the roof. You crashed in the ambulance, and they had to revive you. You needed three pints of blood during surgery. It was touch-and-go for a while.”
I closed my eyes and tried to calm my racing heart. I was used to this kind of thing. I’d taken more lives than I wanted to admit and lost more blood on the battlefield than any human ever should. Things like this didn’t faze me, but Derek? He was a businessman, wealthy and prominent and a shining beacon of light in his industry. He didn’t creep around in the shadows like I did. He didn’t shoot people for a living.
And he sure as hell wasn’t prepared to watch someone bleed out on a carpeted floor.
“Since your team’s already in place, any sort of bribery or unwarranted entry into my home shouldn't be an issue any longer,” Derek said. “Though I’d like to keep you and your team on the payroll until Jacob is officially caught.”
“Didn’t have any other choice,” I said. “The case isn’t closed until the man’s in custody anyway.”
I felt my eyes growing heavy. I felt my head sinking into the pillows. My body was releasing itself back into the void and the blackness of sleep as I felt something tickle my lips.
“Here. Drink a bit more before you go back to sleep,” Derek said.
I lazily parted my lips and drank the cold water he was offering. I moaned, no longer caring about how I sounded. Part of me was worried about staying on his payroll and him taking care of me this way. I knew he wanted more than a professional relationship. I knew he wanted more of me than only the service I had to provide in terms of saving his life. But the true issue wasn’t the fact that he wanted it or even the fact that he wasn’t scared to go afte
r it.
It was the fact that I couldn't deny the feelings I was harboring for him as well.
“Derek?” I asked.
“Sssh. You need rest,” he said. “Just get some rest. I’ll be right here if you need me.”
I nodded and sighed, releasing the straw from between my lips. I slipped down into the covers, allowing the warmth of the sheets to take me under. My drug-induced sleep relaxed my body and dragged the pain in my arm away, but it drove me into a world that warmed me from my nose to my toes.
It drove me right into the arms of Derek Steele, into the swell of his chest and the strength of his arms. I could feel his lips against my neck and his fingers between my legs. I could feel my nipples puckering for him as he slid into me, filling me to the brim as our bodies collided as one.
I could feel more than simple lust rushing through my veins.
My only prayer was that I wouldn’t talk in my sleep. My only hope was that I wouldn’t give away what I truly felt in my moment of weakness. Of pain. Of drug-addled sleep and dehydration.
Because if I did, it would change our relationship forever, and I needed to stay focused.
His life still depended on my ability to focus.
Chapter 3
Derek
A Few Days Later
“THE ATTACK AT DEREK Steele’s company happened five days ago, but there’s still no sign of the assailant, the company’s COO and CEO’s best friend, Jacob Carl. The police are still on the lookout for him, and he’s said to be potentially armed and dangerous. If you see this man, do not approach him. Instead, call the tip line at the number below with any information you might have.”
The news had been droning on about the attack for days. It was headlining news in every local report, and now it had been picked up by national syndicates. And their asses talked about everything. The twenty-four-seven news stations were postulating about all kinds of ridiculous theories. They talked about how I couldn’t have seen this coming. They talked about how maybe I did see this coming and that I was in on it. They speculated about where Jacob could be, what they would do in his situation, and even what they would do in mine.
