by J. M. Madden
Shannon stepped out of the bathroom, looking fresh and beautiful in a long, dark blue sweater that draped down over her curvy hips, which were clad in leggings a darker shade of blue.
“These are so comfortable,” she sighed, tossing the hospital gown across the mattress with a grimace. “I hate those nasty things.”
“They make them to be functional, not pretty,” Alex told her.
It didn’t matter what she wore. Shannon was beautiful to him. The pregnancy wasn’t really visible yet, but for a moment he imagined her belly protruding with his two children, and it choked him up. She would be beautiful big or small, happy or angry. And the children would be adorable.
Zeke ducked his head inside. “If y-you guys are ready, I’ve got p-p-point.”
John nodded. “The paperwork is signed and we’re ready to go. We’re thirty seconds behind you.”
Knowing they’d have to leave before the volunteer escort showed up, expecting to take Shannon out in a wheelchair, they’d timed the departure perfectly. Everyone nodded and they gathered up their things as Zeke disappeared. When they left the room Zeke was already out of sight. Shannon walked out without looking around and headed directly to the elevator, John just ahead of her. He’d instructed her to rest her hand on his shoulder as they walked so he wouldn’t have to be constantly searching for her. Smart woman that she was, Shannon didn’t argue with him when it came to her safety or that of the babies and did as he asked. Duncan and Alex walked ahead and pressed the button for the elevator, then waited for them to get on.
John knew all of this was probably overkill, but he’d rather be safe than sorry. Someone had tried to hurt her yesterday, and they wouldn’t get a chance do it again.
The elevator settled to the ground floor. Duncan and Alex stepped out to hold the doors open while he slid through. There was a thirty-foot stretch of hallway, a ninety degree turn, then straight out the doors. Chad would be waiting there with the truck, the lift already extended to save John time getting in. Harper would be outside watching the area from a high vantage point.
John shoved at his wheels, eager to be gone from this place. They turned the corner and rolled past the billing offices, then past the gift and flower shop. Plastic sheeting billowed at the construction area to the left where the hospital was being expanded. He glanced into the opening and thought he saw a shape move. Zeke stepped out from behind the sheeting, giving him an all-clear sign.
Now for the dangerous part. If he were a bad guy looking to take someone out, it would be right here as they left the security of the building. “Exiting the building,” he murmured into the radio.
The automatic doors slid open and he rolled out, Shannon’s hand tight on his shoulder. He led her to the open door of the truck and waited while she climbed in. Slamming the door shut, he pivoted on one wheel to circle the front of the truck. He bumped up the ramp and onto the platform, then waited, hands on wheels as the platform began to lift.
When the yell came, he almost thought he’d imagined it. John glanced over to the hospital entrance in time to see Zeke wrestling with a man, who was pointing into the parking lot. They struggled for a moment before the guy swung Zeke viciously, spinning him into Alex and Duncan. The assailant leapt away. Still pointing, he ran three strides, circling the truck to John’s side. At the same moment John heard the report of a rifle. Then almost immediately a second.
Time slowed to a standstill. He hunched in his chair but he was very aware that he made an incredible target sitting here with nowhere to go. The truck door would not be enough to stop a round. Shannon screamed, but he wasn’t sure why. Then he realized there was a body covering his.
John shoved the man away and their gazes met.
“Armed assailant down,” Harper called through the radio, “fifty meters to your west. Truck bed of an older black Chevy Silverado.”
Zeke and Chad took off running toward the assailant and John looked up at the man who had draped himself over top of him. The guy was lean and had a haggard look about him, but his dark eyes were clear as he looked John up and down anxiously. “You okay?”
John looked at himself, very aware that if he were shot in the lower body he wouldn’t feel it. “Yeah, I think so.”
The lift was still lifting him up into the cab, though there was a whine to the hydraulics. It wasn’t built to lift two men. The dark-eyed man jumped down off the platform.
John looked at Shannon. She had her hand over her mouth and her eyes were wide with fright and excitement, but she seemed okay. “Babe, you all right?”
She nodded her head and looked at the other man. “It’s him again.”
John pressed a button to reverse the lift, his gaze scanning the area. The man who had protected him took off at a jog toward the truck where the assailant had been.
“Stretcher!” Alex yelled. “I need a stretcher!”
Before the platform even settled, John was rolling off and around the truck. Alex and Zeke were kneeling on the ground over a prone form. Oh, dear God, Duncan.
* * *
Duncan wasn’t even aware what had happened when Zeke crashed into them. He heard yelling and then he thought gunfire. No way, gunfire? Had there actually been a credible threat? He’d kind of just been humoring an over-protective Palmer, but he was going to have to eat shit if it were real.
Then he crashed to the ground and his world lit up in a blaze of agony. It stole his breath and darkened his vision, and it was everything he could do to stay conscious. Then he wondered why he bothered. It was just going to mean more pain.
Even as the words entered his mind the pain rolled in with a vengeance. He heard more yelling but he just couldn’t seem to concentrate on it. Waves of agony pulsed over him, and he had to pant to get any air in.
He blinked up at the blinding sky, trying to get a handle on what was going on. Alex leaned over him, her deep auburn hair slipping free from the braid. She still looked beautiful though. Her mouth was moving.
“Talk to me, Duncan. Sweetheart, talk to me.”
He opened his mouth to do what she said, but he realized he still couldn’t draw in a heavy enough breath. If he’d been knocked on his back, it might take a while to catch his breath.
But the pain in his lower half was stealing every bit of ground he gained. As his lungs began to refill, his hips shouted their agony.
Then Alex was yelling for a stretcher. No, she was screaming for a stretcher. He didn’t like to see that look on her face. Duncan wanted to tell her he would be okay, but he couldn’t articulate it.
The pain was reaching all new levels now, sending spots dancing in front of his eyes.
“Go ahead and pass out, babe,” Alex whispered in his ear. “We’ve got you. I love you.”
Okay. He let the darkness suck him under.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Alex didn’t know what the hell just happened, only what needed to happen now. Duncan had gone down hard—they both had—but when he’d landed she’d heard a definite crack. It had almost echoed the two gunshots she’d heard.
Alex didn’t see any blood, but if his pelvis had broken as she suspected, he could bleed out internally. They needed to get him inside to the emergency room and stabilize his injuries. She glanced around. “Everyone else okay?”
Shannon was sliding down from the cab of the truck parked at the curb, and John was circling the front. There was a man running out into the parking lot who looked vaguely familiar, but she didn’t linger on it. Duncan had to be her priority right now.
Zeke took off toward the hospital entrance, bellowing for a stretcher. In a minute, this place would be a madhouse.
Automatically, she started taking vitals, and wished she had her stethoscope hanging around her neck. And her penlight. God, had he cracked his head too?
A man in blue scrubs appeared at her side and began going through the motions. He had his stethoscope already in his ears.
More people flowed from the hospital, and a stretcher rol
led out. Questions were asked, and she had no idea how to answer them, other than to say Duncan was a veteran with a prior medical history and what she’d heard when they went down. The sound of the crack would echo through her mind forever. They moved him onto the stretcher, and even unconscious he groaned in pain.
Though she prided herself on her professional demeanor, her eyes filled with tears. This one was too close.
A heavy hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up at John. “He’s been through a lot. They’ll check him out and I’m sure he’ll be okay.”
Her eyes focused on a discoloration in his black shirt. “Is that your blood?”
John glanced down at the spots when she pointed them out. “I’m fine. It’s not me. It must be the other guy.”
Alex grabbed the shirt of a nurse. “We have another injured in the parking lot. Grab someone and come on.”
She took off running. There were sirens screaming in the distance, surely coming this way.
Chad and Zeke were out on the lot, scanning vehicles. The third man, dressed in a heavy coat, seemed to be headed toward a specific one though. She followed him, because the blood had to be his.
The men converged on the black truck first. Zeke and Chad had guns drawn, but the third man didn’t seem as concerned. “He’s gone.”
Alex drew close enough to see his face and gasped. “Aiden?”
The man turned to her, giving her a sheepish look when he realized who it was. “Hey, Doc.”
She shook her head, dazed. “What the ever loving hell are you doing here? I don’t understand what’s going on. Are you bleeding?”
He winced and pulled back when she reached for him. “I’m not going to hurt you, damn it,” she growled. “I never did. Why are you looking at me like that?”
Aiden lifted a dirty hand to rub his face. “I know, doc. Old habits. I don’t think I’m hit.”
Obviously, the adrenalin was flowing through his body. That blood hadn’t been John’s, so it had to be Aiden’s. “Let me look.”
She stepped forward and pushed his coat wide. She found where he’d been grazed by a bullet on his left deltoid. Living in Kansas City she’d seen more than her fair share of bullet wounds. The coat was cut completely through, leaving a three inch gash in his skin. It wasn’t deep but fairly wide. “What the hell is going on, Aiden?”
He was looking into the empty truck bed at the deserted rifle. There was a large puddle of blood there, running along the corrugation of the metal. Zeke and Chad were sweeping the area, looking for the man who had shot at them, and the owner of the blood.
But again he avoided her question. “Is Duncan okay?”
Her throat tightened and she fought the need to run and check on him. “I’m not sure. He broke something when he fell. I’m not sure what.”
Wincing, he let her apply pressure to the cut.
“Now,” she said firmly. “What the hell is going on? Why were you protecting John?”
His gaze lifted and everything around them stilled. He gave her a sad smile. “Because he’s my big brother.”
He barely gave her enough time to assimilate that before he brushed her touch off and took both her shoulders in his hands. “Doctor, I need you to listen to me. I can’t be entangled in the mess that’s about to blow up. This is now an active crime scene. I need to get out of here and see if I can find the guy who did this.”
“Wait, you’re leaving?” she gasped.
“I’ll be back, but I need to try to find this guy. He’s wounded right now, so I have the advantage.”
“You’re wounded too,” she protested.
He shook his head, and for the first time she recognized the similarity between him and John. They both had that square-jawed look and dark hair and eyes, though Aiden still looked like he’d been in a concentration camp.
“You need to tell them I was just a random guy who got in the way of a bullet.”
Her mouth dropped open. “There’s no way anyone would believe that. There have to be security cameras out here.”
Aiden shook his head. “If he took the shot from out here, he’ll have known the range of the cameras. Yes, they’ll see me at the entrance, but no more. I’m going to just walk away. I need you to tell them I was just some random stranger.”
She shook her head. “Nobody will believe it and you know it. Are you the Good Samaritan that rescued Shannon yesterday, too?”
His lips tipped up in the lightest of smiles and she knew she’d guessed right. “Why has all of this happened?”
One of the Denver PD cars screeched into the lot. “I’ll have to tell you later. I need to go.”
With that, he turned and walked through the parking lot, away from the cops. Alex shook her head in befuddlement. She didn’t understand anything right now.
* * *
The cops moved in and set up a perimeter for the crime scene the LNF people had created. When Alex came back from the lot and told John he needed to say it was a random stranger that had protected him, he’d given her a hard look.
“I promise I’ll explain more later,” she’d hissed. “Random stranger. Just like Shannon’s Good Samaritan yesterday. Okay? And tell her, too!”
So, that was the story they’d gone with. He explained his worries about Shannon’s safety to the investigating cop, then to the detective that was assigned the case, who looked at him like he’d gotten a concussion in the scuffle. Honestly, John didn’t give a flying fuck. He wanted to go in and see if there was any word about Duncan. Alex had gone in a couple hours ago and not returned.
Shannon had had to go through her own series of interviews. She’d been the only one that had seen everything. Then she’d gone inside as well. He was chomping at the bit to be with her, but knew she was in capable hands. Zeke had given his statement, then Harper. The former sniper had glowered as they’d bagged and marked his sniper rifle as evidence.
“For what crime?” he demanded.
The officer taking the weapon had actually cringed from his anger. “Hey, buddy, I’m just doing what I’m told.”
John recognized the weapon though. It was Harper’s back-up. He was just being angry for show. There was no body. Yes, there was blood, but unless they could connect it to a person and a crime, it didn’t matter.
The guy who owned the black truck, an orderly in the hospital, had looked around in confusion at everything that had gone on, then been questioned repeatedly by different law enforcement officers. Eventually it had been decided that his truck had been chosen at random, simply because of its position. It had given the assailant the perfect shot. Well, it would have been the perfect position if the ‘Good Samaritan’ had cooperated with the plan.
Curiosity was eating John up one side and down the other.
“I’m done,” he told the detective. “I have people I care about to check on. If you have more questions, you can find me tomorrow at the LNF offices.”
Then, without caring if they responded, John rolled away.
When the call had gone out that Duncan had been hurt, John had known everyone would come to the hospital. John was the leader of their scarred, damaged group, and everyone loved him. It was usually him coming to the hospital and checking on them when they were injured or in for surgeries and the like. There was a chorus saying, “Hey, John,” when he rolled into the emergency waiting room. “You haven’t heard anything yet?”
No, they hadn’t. By this time Duncan had been back there for hours. “Is Alex back there?” he demanded.
“Yes,” Shannon told him, coming up to rub his shoulders and press a kiss to his temple.
So, they settled in to wait.
Just a few minutes later Alex came through the automatic doors of the emergency department. She held up her hands as people started talking all at once. “I’ll answer your questions in a minute. Let me give you a rundown first.”
She settled into one of the farthest corners, away from the ears of the other people in the waiting room. “Duncan ha
s broken his pelvis. Normally, a fall to the ground wouldn’t do much, but with his prior history it has turned into a devastating injury. The previous repairs have shifted and are going to need to be fixed. He probably did that a while back when we visited that vet on Christmas. Also, for the past several months he’s been having a lot of pain in the hip socket itself. His orthopedic doctor is back there now, and they’re going to go ahead and replace the joint while they’re in there fixing everything else. It’s not ideal, but there’s no sense in putting him back together if he’s going to need a new surgery in a few weeks.”
“Why has he been in so much pain?” Shannon asked. “It did seem like his limping had gotten worse recently.”
Alex nodded. “One of the screws used in his original repair had begun to shift and it’s worn a groove in the ball of his femur. His hip is basically metal to bone, with no cushioning cartilage left.”
Several faces winced in pain. Some of them had been through issues of their own, so they could understand what he was going through now.
“How good is this surgery, doc?” Chad asked.
The woman sighed. “The plan for the repair is sound, but I don’t know the doctors themselves. Duncan has been going to the same orthopedic doctor for years though, and I don’t think he would have wasted that much time going to someone he didn’t trust or like.”
That was very true. Duncan had no time for anything less than competence.
John looked up at Shannon. She seemed a little pale, but her eyes were clear and strong. She seemed to sense the weight of his gaze because she turned and smiled at him. Her warm hand never left his shoulder.
“So that’s where we stand,” Alex continued, her eyes looking sharp but sad. “He’s sedated right now because of the amount of pain he’s in, but they might rouse him enough to talk to him about what’s coming. He’s going to be down and hurting for a while, but I think in the long run he will be more mobile and carry a lot less pain.”
