Down Deep

by Kimberly Kincaid

  Kennedy made a mental note to buy her brother a round of the best scotch they carried at The Crooked Angel as soon as she was well enough to get out of here. Her thoughts were growing less fragmented, although the pain in her chest was still as bright and intense as Broadway stage lights, and she turned her chin toward Gamble expectantly.

  He exhaled, but didn’t hesitate. “Do you remember being with Xander and Rusty in Skyline Tower?”

  She nodded, because it was easier to conserve words. “He was…going to burn me.”

  “He was going to try,” Gamble said, his dark eyes flashing even darker with anger. “Only, Xander took a run at him just as I got there with intelligence. Rusty”—Gamble paused. Breathed deeply. Then said, “He must have realized the place was swarming with cops, or seen Xander start to move and known he wasn’t going to get the match lit in time. So he shot you.”

  Kennedy blinked twice, looking down at herself as if in slow motion. “Oh,” she said, feeling as if she should’ve remembered that before she’d peered down and caught sight of the mass of snowy white bandages sticking out from beneath her pale blue hospital gown. Wait… “Must have realized?” she echoed, her brows tipping downward. “Didn’t he tell you?”

  “Ah.” Gamble lasered a look at Xander, and for fuck’s sake, she might’ve been shot, but she wasn’t fragile.

  A fact her brother must have taken to heart, because he said, “He didn’t. Rusty’s dead.”

  Okay, maybe Gamble was right to have wanted to give her a sec on this one. “He’s dead?” Kennedy’s heart beat faster, the monitor beside her bed calling her out in a series of upward spikes.

  “Yeah,” Xander said. “When I thought he was going to drop that match, I just snapped. I meant to tackle him to try and stop him, but he was really close to the edge of the building, and he went to step back to try and shoot me, too, but…”

  Whoa. “He fell?”

  “Twelve stories,” Xander confirmed. “I didn’t realize he’d actually hit you until afterward.” Xander’s expression grew strained, and he scrubbed a hand over the dark stubble on his jaw. “Ken, I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t fucked up, none of this would’ve happened, and—”

  “Stop,” she breathed. She must’ve looked pathetic—either that or she’d come closer to cashing in her ticket than she’d thought—because he actually did. “Not your fault. No arguing.”

  After a beat where Xander looked like he wanted to push his luck, Gamble said, “See? I told you she’d say that when she woke up, too.”

  Xander gave up a resigned nod. “I’m just really glad you’re okay.”

  “Me, too,” she said, and note to self: no laughing any time soon. That shit hurt.

  “I’m going to go tell everyone you’re awake.” At Kennedy’s questioning glance, he added, “January started a rotation. Everyone’s been going back and forth between here and The Crooked Angel to help out. Except for the big guy, that is. His ass has been parked here the whole time."

  Good Lord. “How long have I been out of it?”

  “Twenty-nine hours, sixteen minutes, and”—Gamble checked his watch—“forty-two seconds. You were a bit of a mess when Quinn and Luke got you here, but your wound was closer to your shoulder than I’d originally thought. You had a nice, long surgery to remove bullet and repair the damage, which Dr. Sheridan assured me went incredibly well, then they kept you sedated in the ICU for a while. But the most important thing is that you’re safe now.”

  Kennedy waited for Xander to squeeze her hand one last time and slip from the room before she returned her gaze to Gamble. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” he asked, brushing her hair away from her face with a gentle touch.

  “Having my back so I could have his.”

  “You scared the fuck out of me, you know,” Gamble said, and this time, Kennedy’s heart lurched for a whole bunch of different reasons.

  “Call it square for the flash-over?” she asked, and ah, there it was, her favorite tiny smile.

  “Deal.”

  “And for the record, I love you, too,” Kennedy whispered.

  Gamble stiffened, his body stilling from the chair he’d dragged right up next to the side of her hospital bed. “What?”

  “You said that, right?” Okay, so laughing might suck, but at least she could manage a smile without her chest threatening to implode. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I didn’t dream it, but who knows what kind of pharmaceutical goodies are swimming around in my bloodstream right now.”

  Gamble huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, smartass. I said it. I love you. I am totally, completely, ridiculously in love with you.”

  “Oh, good.” She reached for his hand, and there it was, immediately wrapping around hers, warm and constant and strong. “Because I’m totally, completely, ridiculously in love with you, too.”

  “Guess we’re stuck with each other, then,” Gamble said, his expression growing serious as he leaned in to brush a gentle kiss over her mouth. “I promise to always have your back, Kennedy.”

  Her smile grew bigger as tears filled her eyes, and all of a sudden, her chest didn’t hurt at all.

  “And I promise to always come home to you.”