by Anna Blakely
Following the same path Downing had taken, he went left. His mind raced to remember the cars he’d seen on the footage.
“Brynnon!” he screamed. “We’re here, baby. Where are you?”
Ignoring the cold, night air, he screamed her name again, pleading for her to call out for him. The only thing he got in return was the sound of the bitter wind.
“Here.” Derek heaved a breath from behind him. When Grant looked over, he realized his teammate had brought the laptop with him.
“You really are a genius.”
Derek pulled up the frame where Martin started dragging Brynnon out of the camera’s viewpoint. “Remind me later to make a huge fuckin’ deal about the compliment.”
They studied the frozen image, committing to memory the cars surrounding Downing and Brynnon. Almost simultaneously, they began scanning the parking lot in search for those same vehicles.
Coop pointed to a red car several spaces down from where they stood. “That’s the Honda on the screen!”
Grant looked back to the computer, and sure enough, that same car, along with the ones parked beside it, were those Downing had passed.
“Let’s go!”
About that time, four security guards came running up behind them. Having already been filled in on the basics, Coop quickly explained they were searching for Brynnon.
The group of men ran against the wind, yelling out as loud as their lungs would allow. With every second that passed, Grant grew closer and closer to a complete fucking meltdown.
“Spread out!” he ordered roughly, desperate to find his woman. His knees nearly buckled as an unimaginable thought hit.
This whole time they’d been assuming she was still alive. But what if...
No! He couldn’t start down that path. Grant knew in his heart—one he’d only recently discovered he still had, thanks to her—Brynnon was still alive.
Along with her father, the three R.I.S.C. operatives searched between the cars and beside the building. They hollered her name, Grant praying he’d hear her voice calling for him. But, he didn’t.
Claws of doubt began digging their way into his core, and he was about to give up hope when Coop shouted, “I found her!”
Grant swung his head up to see his teammate standing in the shadows between two cars. Coop was waving his arms and yelling, “Over here! Hurry!”
Moving faster than he ever thought possible, Grant took off in that direction. His heart stopped when he saw her.
With Coop squatted next to her, Brynnon was lying face down on the ground. And she wasn’t moving.
His teammate’s tormented eyes flew up to his. “She has a pulse, but barely. We’ve got to get her inside.”
Grant all but pushed Coop out of the way. A strange, guttural sound escaped his chest as he saw where she’d been shot.
Kneeling down next to her, he lifted the hem of her shirt. The blood-soaked material stuck to her skin as he slowly peeled it up and away from the wound.
Grant closed his eyes, allowing himself only a second to fight off the consuming rage within before putting the shirt back down.
Though they wouldn’t know for sure until she got into surgery, he felt confident the bullet had missed her spine. With paralysis the lesser of two evils—the other being death—Grant took the chance and rolled her over onto her back.
Sliding his hands beneath her cold body, he quickly lifted her into his arms and made his way out from between the cars. Once they were clear, he took off like a bat out of hell toward the emergency entrance around the corner.
Carrying her limp body through the automatic doors, he began shouting for someone to help. A doctor about the size of Trevor’s tiny wife, Lexi, and two nurses came running up to him.
Knowing Brynnon didn’t have time for a long-ass story, Grant told them what they needed to know in order to save her...She’d been shot and left in the cold to die.
Practically ripped from his hands, the team of medical professionals transferred her to a gurney and began taking her vitals. One nurse shouted out her low-as-fuck blood pressure and a bunch of other shit he didn’t recognize. After that, the doctor rambled off a shit ton of tests she wanted ordered, plus something about a warming system.
In the midst of that chaos, another staff member came and got Brynnon’s father, stating there was something going on with Billy.
Knowing the man was torn between staying with his daughter and going to his son, Grant said, “Go. Be with Billy. I’ve got her.”
With a weary nod, the man followed the gentleman down the hall toward the elevators.
The team working on Brynnon quickly pushed her through a set of opened, double-doors and into a room. When Grant started to follow, the doctor put a hand to his chest. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay out here.”
Memories of another hospital—another hallway—assaulted him. Now this doctor wanted him to go through that shit again?
Like hell.
“I’m not leaving her.”
Coop pulled on his arm. “Come on, man. Let them do their jobs.”
“He’s right, G,” Derek chimed in. “Trust me, I get it. It was hell waiting for Charlie to get out of surgery after that bastard of an ex nearly beat her to death. But you have to give them room to work. It’s what Brynnon needs most right now.”
Glaring at his teammate, he jerked away from his grasp. “I’m not fucking leaving her.”
The brunette opened her mouth to argue when a voice he recognized cut her off.
“Go take care of your patient, Sophie. I’ll deal with these guys.”
They all turned to see Jason Ryker, R.I.S.C.’s Homeland handler, walking toward them. “Thanks, Jason.” The doctor’s eyes softened a bit. She turned to go back into the room, stopping long enough to tell Grant, “I promise I’ll do everything I can to save her.”
With a final, sideways glance at Ryker, the woman walked into the room, shutting him out.
“How is she?”
Grant stared at the closed door, ready to break the fucker down. “Alive. For now.”
“Soph’s one of the best doctors here. Your girl’s in good hands.”
Even the best doctors fail. He knew that all too well. And if they did this time...if he lost Brynnon for good...there wouldn’t be a god powerful enough to save Martin Downing’s soul.
For the next hour, Ryker, Coop, and Derek all hung out in the hallway with him. Upon Ryker’s insistence, a nurse brought him a set of clean scrubs to change into, since the front of his shirt was covered in Brynnon’s blood.
Their topic of conversations moved from one thing to the next, but Grant didn’t listen to any of it. Instead, he spent that time planning.
Driven by his need for revenge, his thoughts were quickly consumed with bloody, gratifying scenes. In his mind, he saw himself torturing Downing with the most excruciating methods he could imagine.
Every once in a while, a comment was made about how strong Brynnon was. How, if anyone could make it through this, it would be her.
Grant appreciated what his friends were trying to do, but the idea of inflicting insurmountable pain on the bastard responsible was more comforting than any platitudes his teammates or Ryker could give.
Downing may think he’d gotten away, but with his team by his side, Grant knew they’d eventually find him. And when they did, when he finally got his hands on the motherfucker, he was going to show Downing just how big a mistake hurting his Brynnon had been.
Sometime later, Grant wasn’t sure how long it had been, Jake and Olivia came rushing through the doors. Olivia’s large baby bump caused a slight waddle to her step, but she was still able to keep up with her husband’s long stride.
“Boss.” Grant looked at the dark-headed man.
“We would’ve been here sooner, but there was a wreck and we had to take a detour.”
His team leader’s words made Grant think of the night of the dance and the detour they’d taken, too. It was the first night he and Br
ynnon—
“How is she?” Jake’s voice grabbed his divided attention.
He ran a hand down his rugged jaw. “I don’t know. They’ve been in there a while. I’m not really sure how long.”
A shared understanding flowed into Jake’s blue eyes as they slid toward Brynnon’s room and back to him.
“Sorry I didn’t call.” Grant didn’t even try to make excuses. “I should have—”
Jake’s supportive words cut him off. “You were doing exactly what you needed to.”
“I’m so sorry, Grant,” Olivia reached up and gave him a hug. Her pregnant body made the move a bit awkward.
“Thanks,” he patted her gently on the back. Grant was afraid if he said much more he’d break down like a baby.
Trevor arrived next, Mac walking in seconds behind him.
“Got here as soon as I could,” Trevor told him somberly. “There was a wreck, and the detour was a bitch.”
“S’okay.”
Mac’s worried eyes found his. “She’s going to be okay, right?”
Emotions threatened to break through the protective wall he’d begun to rebuild. Though not everyone on the team had even met Brynnon, they’d all showed up...for her.
No, big guy. They’re here for you.
Grant barely held back his reaction to hearing Brynnon’s comforting voice in his head. He knew it was just his imagination, but the realization was startling, all the same.
Christ, he needed to hear it again. Like he needed his next breath.
“I heard she took a hit to the back.”
Jake’s voice tore Grant away from his thoughts. Feeling almost numb, he nodded. “Downing shot her. The bastard shot her, and then dragged her off into the shadows.”
His nostrils stung, and warm tears filled his eyes. An enormous knot swelled in the back of his throat to the point he thought he’d choke. Though he had no idea how, Grant managed to swallow down the painful emotions seconds before they could burst free.
Sniffling, he told his team leader, “He just left her there to die, Jake. Like a fucking dog, Downing just...left her.”
Jake stared back at him with utter certainty. “We’ll find him.”
Jaw clenched, Grant nodded. “I’m counting on it.”
Ryker’s phone rang, the sound echoing off the pristine, white walls.
“Excuse me,” the Homeland agent muttered before taking a few steps away from the rest of them.
“Have they given you any updates on Brynnon’s condition?”
Grant looked back over to Olivia. “Not yet. The doctor won’t...” His voice cracked. “She, uh, won’t let me go in.”
With an understanding smile, Jake’s sweet wife said, “I’ll go see if they’ll give me an update, okay?”
He nodded, his chest tightening from the love he knew Olivia shared for everyone on the team. “Thank you.”
“Well, I just got some good news,” Ryker rejoined the group. “Downing’s no longer an issue.”
Grant perked up at that. “They found him? Where is he?”
His fists tightened from just imagining getting his hands on the bastard. Once he knew for sure Brynnon was going to be okay, he planned to pay the fucker a visit.
“On his way to the county morgue.”
Chapter 22
“He’s dead?”
Grant waited for Ryker to answer Coop’s question, certain they’d heard the man wrong. Unfortunately, they hadn’t.
“My guy just confirmed it.” The other man nodded.
Grant huffed out a disbelieving breath.
“What the hell happened?” Grant asked a little too loudly.
“State police spotted him on the highway not long after the BOLO went out. Tried pulling him over, but Downing took off. Ended up losing control on a curve and rolled his car.”
Derek shot Ryker a look. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me. A fuckin’ car wreck?” He shook his head. “The bastard got off too damn easy, if you ask me.”
“Actually, the wreck isn’t what killed him.”
Confused, Mac frowned at their handler. “Then what did?”
“Bullet to the head.”
“The cop?” Jake asked from beside Grant.
Ryker shoved his hands into his suit pants. “According to my guy, Downing spouted off some bullshit about how he’d rather die than go to prison.” Ryker’s dark eyes slid to Grant’s. “A second later, guy shoved his own gun into his mouth and pulled the trigger.”
A few of the others began wishing Martin Downing good riddance. Muffled by the sound of his own blood rushing past his ears, Grant thought he heard someone say the world was better off without the son of a bitch.
The conversation carried on and other comments were made. Ones like how Downing had saved the taxpayers a shit ton of money, and by taking himself out, the fucker had done everyone a favor.
As he stood there, half-listening, Grant understood why they were all relieved by the news of Downing’s death. But he wasn’t.
All he could think was that he’d been fucking cheated.
He’d wanted to confront Downing himself. Wanted to beat the man within an inch of his life. Make him suffer for every ounce of pain he’d caused Brynnon and her family.
After, when it was over and Grant felt the man had been punished enough, he’d wanted to be the one to put a bullet in Downing’s brain. Now, he’d never get that chance.
Olivia came back out of the room, quieting his murderous thoughts.
Grant shot toward her. “Is she okay?”
With hopeful trepidation, she said, “Her temperature is steadily rising, and her pulse has gotten a bit stronger. They’re going to go ahead and move her into surgery to remove the bullet, keeping the warming system on her as much as they can.”
“That’s good, right?” He searched her round, hazel eyes for reassurance. “If she’s well enough for surgery, that means she’s going to be okay?”
With a sympathetic smile, Olivia gently grasped his forearm. “She’s not out of the woods yet, Grant. So far everything’s gone as well as could be expected, given the circumstances but...”
The door behind Olivia opened and an unconscious Brynnon was pushed into the hall. Pinpricks of fear ran the length of his spine, sending him rushing to the gurney’s side.
A thick, almost industrial-looking blanket covered her from the neck down. It was connected to a machine that was resting at the foot of the bed between Brynnon’s legs and the railing. The warming system. His eyes flew back to her beautiful face.
Long, delicate eyelashes rested on her flawless skin and dried blood covered the area near her hairline from where the son of a bitch had struck her. Grant’s fists clenched the cold railing.
The bluish tinge of her lips had faded some, but he knew she was still too cold. Too pale.
Leaning down, Grant pressed his warm lips to hers. “Keep fighting, Princess.” He kissed her again. “Please, baby. You have to keep fighting.”
“I’m sorry, sir.” A male nurse looked over at him. “But we really need to get her to the O.R.”
Trevor put a hand on his arm. “Come on, man. She needs to go.”
Grant let go of the railing.
Stumbling back, he watched the group of people he didn’t know take the woman who’d become his everything away.
“She’s a fighter, G,” Derek spoke up from behind him.
Coop shared the sentiment. “Hell, yes, she is.”
Grant nodded but said nothing. He just kept watching them push Brynnon farther down the hall until they turned a corner, and she was gone.
She could be gone forever. How am I supposed to do this without her?
It was crazy. They barely knew each other, yet in a lot of ways—the most important ways—she knew him better than anyone ever had.
After years of being alone, Grant finally found a woman he wanted a future with. One who could die any minute.
Ah, Christ. I could lose her tonight.
He coul
dn’t even take it out on the man responsible because the fucker had taken the chicken shit way out and ate a goddamn bullet.
Rot in hell, you motherfucking cock sucker.
“Hey,” Mac rested a hand on his arm. “You okay?”
Concern was etched all over the tiny blonde’s face. When Grant glanced at the others, he realized they were all staring back at him with that same, sorrowful expression. All, except Jake.
When Grant locked eyes with the other man, Jake simply gave him a tip of his chin. “Go. Do what you need to do. We’ll come get you if anything changes.”
Grant thought back to the conversation he and Jake had shared once, in a bathroom just down the hall from where they were now.
Jake had completely lost his shit when Olivia was taken to surgery after having been kidnapped by a man who’d damn near tortured her to death. The former Delta operator had tried his damnedest to destroy the men’s restroom. Until Grant finally went in and talked him down.
Now, he was the one who wanted to break something. To demolish anything and everything in his path, not stopping until some of this goddamn fear went away.
His breathing shallowed and his focus tunneled.
Knowing he was seconds away from a complete meltdown, Grant didn’t say a word. He just turned his back on his friends and walked away.
Not one person tried to stop him.
Woodenly, he shuffled down the hall and through the ER doors. His vision blurred, but Grant ignored it and kept going.
Each step brought with it a new, agonizing thought. He pictured Brynnon on that operating table. Thought about how, in this very second, she was lying in there fighting for her life.
For their life.
Grant’s mind whirled with the lifetime of memories they’d created over the span of only a few days. Pictures of her smiling back at him and laughing flashed before his watery eyes.
As if he’d somehow been transported back in time, Grant swore he could feel the warmth from her touch as they’d danced that night at the ball. The way her body had writhed sensually beneath his as they made love.
Having been moving almost robotically, he suddenly found himself around the corner, on other side of the building. When the moisture pooling in his eyes became blinding, he stopped.
