Maybe his cousin deserved it after everything he’d done. Maybe this was the point Matt should have been saying Thomas had finally crossed a line he couldn’t forgive. But all he could think was how this whole thing was going to break Aunt Katie’s heart. She’d practically been a second mom to him, and she didn’t deserve to bury her only son. So no matter what Thomas had done to him personally, Matt still couldn’t give up on him, if only for Aunt Katie’s sake.
Matt paused when he got to the end of the counter, trying to take a deeper breath before he cautiously looked over the top of the bench. Thomas was staring at Gabe, his cousin’s expression fatalistic, there was no other way to put it. Like he’d already given up and accepted his death.
Thomas brought up the gun again. Matt heard his cousin say “it’s what I deserve,” and something inside Matt snapped.
He didn’t even think, because he knew what was going to happen; he could see it clear as day, like he was getting a glimpse of the future. Gabe was standing right there, hand outstretched for the gun, nowhere to go when Thomas’s finger slid over the trigger guard and slipped into position.
As Matt vaulted the counter, he heard Jake curse and saw him surging up with his gun once more. Matt was already halfway across the diner, and though in the back of his mind he knew he was putting himself in exactly the kind of danger Gabe had been trying to prevent, he didn’t care. Didn’t care about his own well-being when Gabe was the one facing down an assault rifle at point-blank range.
Thomas was so focused on Gabe, he didn’t notice Matt charging at him from the side. Gabe did, however, eyes widening and shouting “no!” a split second before Thomas squeezed the trigger.
Matt slammed into him, sending the spray of bullets wild. Several people screamed, but Matt had his entire focus on where he’d clamped his hands over Thomas’s on the gun, trying to get control of the weapon, even as his cousin tried to turn it on him, hate and rage in his eyes.
The two of them fell to the floor, Thomas half on top of him. Just as his back slammed into the unforgiving tiles, knocking the breath from him, the door exploded inward with a shower of glass and splintered wood. The SWAT team swarmed in, shouting at them to put the gun down. Matt tensed his entire body, sure he was about to die in a hail of bullets since neither he nor Thomas had relinquished the gun, still in a tug-of-war for possession of the weapon.
Jake appeared at his shoulder with his sidearm trained on Thomas’s head, stepping in front of the SWAT guys and into the line of fire.
“Drop the fucking gun!” Jake yelled.
Thomas cut the deputy a brief, frantic glance but didn’t give up his hold. Matt’s biceps were burning with the effort of holding his cousin at arm’s length and keeping Thomas’s hand pinned against the stock so he couldn’t pull the trigger. But Matt didn’t waver. He knew if he gave even an inch, it would mean death for him or someone else.
The SWAT guys were still yelling, the chaos reaching new heights as a few people scrambled to get out the door the cops had broken down when they’d come in. It felt like forever since he’d tackled Thomas and hit the floor, but in reality, it’d probably only been a few short seconds.
Jake suddenly cursed and stepped forward. He kicked Thomas in the face, sending him sprawling backward, making him finally release his grip on the gun as he fell to the floor.
“Don’t move!” Jake ordered as he stepped over Matt’s legs to get a closer aim on his cousin. Without looking, Jake calmly held out one hand for the assault rifle and Matt gladly handed it over.
He scrambled up as the SWAT guys moved in to apprehend Thomas, who’d started crying and yelling unintelligibly. Glancing around, Matt couldn’t see Gabe for a second. Where the hell had he gone? He wouldn’t have left when other people started escaping, not without him. Was he already in FBI mode and working with the cops?
He made another sweep of the diner, but this time he paused where the guy in the Everness FD T-shirt had been trying to help the guy Thomas had shot in the leg. Because there wasn’t one person lying there bleeding any longer, there were two.
No.
God, no.
Even though his eyes knew exactly what they were seeing, his brain refused to accept it. When he finally started moving, it felt like he was walking through quicksand. He couldn’t get there fast enough, every step dragging. He couldn’t focus on anything else, like the entire world had dropped away, so he barely noticed the few people he bumped into as he ran the short steps to fall hard on his knees next to Gabe.
“Gabe?” His name came out in a choked whisper. Gabe’s eyes fluttered, but he seemed out of it.
There was a dark wet patch halfway up his chest on his right side. The firefighter went from checking Gabe’s pulse, to suddenly ripping open his T-shirt and probing his ribs under his arm, leaning down to listen to his chest with a curse.
“Is he okay?” It was probably a dumb question; clearly Gabe wasn’t okay at all. He’d been fucking shot. Jesus Christ.
One of the SWAT officers dropped down next to them with a bag like paramedics usually carried, distracting the firefighter from answering him.
“I’m Rory, team medic. What’ve we got?”
“I think the bullet pierced his lung,” the firefighter answered calmly, which for some reason only made Matt’s panic worse.
“Oh God, that’s bad, right? Really bad?” He gripped a handful of Gabe’s T-shirt at the shoulder, crushing the material in his fist.
Rory quickly checked Gabe over. “We’re lucky it was a through and through, which makes things a little simpler. But he can’t breathe properly, his lung has collapsed. I need to release the pressure.”
Rory didn’t say anything else as he started pulling things out of his bag.
“Wait, can you even do that here?” the firefighter asked, eyes widening as Rory bundled some stuff into his bloody hands.
“I’m trained in combat medicine. Former Army Ranger. I can do whatever the fuck I want if it means saving someone’s life. Now help me get him prepped before—”
Gabe’s breath turned into a strained gurgle, spurring Rory and the firefighter into frantically working between themselves.
“Before what?” Matt demanded, reaching across Gabe to grab the firefighter’s shoulder.
The man looked at him but didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. It was all right there in his tight expression.
“No!” Matt reached down and clamped his hands on both sides of Gabe’s face. His lips had taken on a hint of gray. “No way. You’re not dying here today, Gabriel Lopez. You hear me? Wake the hell up, because you and I are supposed to go to San Francisco and do all that lame tourist stuff and be stupidly happy together.”
Tears were streaming down his face and dropping onto Gabe’s neck, but he didn’t react in the least. Matt leaned in, setting his forehead against Gabe’s shoulder.
“Please, Gabe,” he whispered, not caring who else could hear, not caring how broken he sounded. “I just found you. Don’t leave me.”
“I know you’re scared.” A gentle hand touched the middle of his back and he looked up to see the firefighter staring at him with understanding in his green eyes. “But if you move back and let us work, I promise we’ll do everything we can to help him.”
Matt gave a jerky nod and shuffled back a little, but kept hold of Gabe’s hand.
Rory rolled Gabe to his side for a moment, giving the firefighter access to splash his chest with some kind of brown substance, before Rory lowered him again and took the scalpel the firefighter held out. Rory didn’t hesitate to neatly slice between Gabe’s ribs with the small blade.
Matt swallowed down the lump blocking his throat and focused on Gabe’s face, not wanting to witness what they were doing to him, just needing to see his gorgeous dark brown eyes once more.
“This is all my fault.” He uttered the words before he’d even thought about them. But they were completely true. If not for him, Gabe wouldn’t have been there, wouldn’t have
put himself in harm’s way, wouldn’t be straying too close to death’s door. If he’d stayed behind the counter and not rushed Thomas—
“You saved him.”
The words broke the rapid downward spiral of his thoughts, and he glanced up to focus on the firefighter, who was holding up a bag of IV fluids for the paramedics who’d arrived to assist at some point and he hadn’t even noticed.
“From where I was sitting, if you hadn’t tackled that guy when you did, Gabe would have taken several rounds to the chest. That caliber weapon at that range? He would have been dead before he hit the floor.”
Matt nodded, taking in the words and holding on to them for all he was worth. Maybe he shouldn’t have acted so rashly, but if it’d really saved Gabe’s life, then he’d do it a million times over.
Gabe suddenly gasped in a long breath, eyes snapping open.
Matt shifted closer, getting into his line of sight as he tried to rear up while the firefighter and Rory held him down and told him to stay calm.
“Gabe.” Matt reached down with a shaking hand to cup his neck, hold firm but gentle. “Gabe, you’re okay. Just focus on me and let the paramedics work.”
“Is he—” Gabe sunk back down, but his eyes darted around the immediate area.
“The cops have him in custody,” the firefighter answered, patting Gabe on the shoulder. “Your guy here pulled quite the hero stunt.”
Matt felt his cheeks getting hot and knew they were going bright red as Gabe focused on him, blinking a few times, clearly trying to remember through foggy thoughts.
“You tackled him,” Gabe said slowly as if the recollection was coming back in pieces. “I thought he was going to— Fuck, Matt, you scared the shit out of me! Don’t ever do that again.”
Gabe coughed after hoarsely shouting the words, while Rory admonished him to stay calm. Reaching up, Gabe took a handful of his shirt in the middle of his chest, right over his heart.
“Seriously, don’t ever scare me like that again,” Gabe whispered, gaze intent on him.
Matt smiled, though considering the tears dribbling down his face, he doubted it was very reassuring. “As long as you promise never to get shot again.”
Gabe winced as if mentioning it had reminded him how much pain he was in. “Not going to argue.”
One of the paramedics brought the stretcher over, and Matt had to let go of Gabe’s hand as they loaded him onto it. When they wheeled him toward the busted-in door, the firefighter came over to shake his hand.
“Jared Winters. I’d say nice to meet you, but—”
Matt gave a weak laugh as he returned the handshake. “Yeah, no offense, but I could have done with not meeting you like this.”
“You did good. Crazy, but good. I’m sure you probably saved more than just Gabe’s life. That guy could have easily shot me and anyone else nearby before SWAT came in to take him out if you hadn’t got there in time. Not many people would have taken that risk.”
“It was Gabe,” he replied with a shrug, as if that alone explained everything. Which it did. Gabe was his heart, and he couldn’t live without a heart. “And Thomas is my cousin.”
Jared raised an eyebrow. “The shooter?”
He nodded instead of replying, the lump returning to his throat as he thought about what Aunt Katie and his mom were going to say when they found out about all this. But at least Thomas was alive, even if he likely would be spending many years in jail. He’d have the chance to make amends and create a different life for himself when he got out, which he certainly wouldn’t have been able to do if he’d been killed here today.
“Sorry, man, that has to be tough.” Jared squeezed his shoulder briefly. “But it doesn’t change what you did. So, thanks.”
He sent the firefighter a nod of acknowledgment, not really feeling like he deserved the gratitude, but also not wanting to seem like a douche by denying Jared’s thanks. As he turned, his gaze landed on where the cops were hauling Thomas to his feet to take him away.
For half a second, he considered going over to try to talk to his cousin one more time, try to make sense of all the terrible things he’d done, reconcile it with what he thought he’d known about the guy who’d practically been his brother. But when Thomas looked at him, that same loathing and resentment glinted in his gaze, telling Matt he wouldn’t get anything worth knowing from his cousin. Not anything he wanted to hear, anyway.
Instead he hurried outside to where the paramedics were loading Gabe into the back of the ambulance.
“You riding along?” one of the paramedics asked once they had Gabe situated.
He hurried over and climbed in, sitting down and taking Gabe’s hand. As the ambulance rocked into motion, Gabe shot him a wan smile, eyelids drooping.
“He’s going to be okay?” he asked, not taking his eyes from Gabe’s face, unable to believe how close he’d come to losing him.
“He’s stable at the moment.”
Matt glanced up at the paramedic’s short, cryptic answer, worried there might be a complication they weren’t telling him about.
“The doctors will be able to tell you more once we reach the hospital and they assess him.”
His stomach was tying itself into knots, and he swallowed desperately against the sick feeling crawling up the back of his throat. He felt Gabe’s hand tighten around his and looked down to see Gabe focused on him. An oxygen mask covered his face, and his eyes were glassy with pain.
Matt squeezed back, his heart flipping over as Gabe’s eyes dropped closed again. The paramedic didn’t react, so Matt prayed the drowsiness wasn’t a bad sign. As the ambulance rushed with lights and sirens toward the hospital, Matt just kept hanging on to Gabe’s hand, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest and thankful for every breath he took.
It left Matt with no doubt.
No doubt at all he was right where he was meant to be: at Gabe’s side, for better or worse.
SEVERAL HOURS later, Matt was slumped in a chair watching Gabe sleep and fighting off his own tiredness. It was only late afternoon, but he felt like it might as well have been 2:00 a.m. considering the way he couldn’t keep his eyes open.
He was crashing from the adrenaline rush—at least that’s what the SWAT guy, Rory, had told him when he’d dropped in to see how Gabe was doing after surgery.
That adrenaline had been running high since the shooting, and had kept him pacing on and off for the entire time Gabe had been in surgery and then recovery. The doctor had come to find him in the waiting room and told him the operation had been straightforward and gone very well. Gabe was going to need a week in the hospital and then a few weeks’ medical leave, but with lots of rest, he was expected to make a full and speedy recovery.
That had been the point the adrenaline had crashed and he may or may not have sobbed all over the doctor like a damned baby. There hadn’t been any witnesses, so no one could say for sure.
The doctor had shown him to Gabe’s room, where he’d collapsed into the chair next to the bed to watch Gabe sleep, only interrupted when Rory had come by to check Gabe had made it through okay.
“You’re drooling.”
Matt snapped straighter at the familiar, albeit roughened voice, eyes opening to find Gabe staring at him. Matt rubbed a hand across his jaw and grimaced, sure enough finding a little line of drool. He must have dozed off and not even realized it.
“Look that good when I’m sleeping, huh? Droolworthy?” Gabe attempted to push himself up but then winced, wrapping an arm around his injured side.
“No, stay still.” Matt jumped up and found the bed controls to lift the top half until Gabe was comfortably reclining upright. As he went to shift back to the chair, Gabe caught his wrist and tugged his arm.
“You’re too far away over there.” Gabe was staring up at him, hope and vulnerability and so much love in his dark brown eyes, it made Matt’s heart sing.
“It’s like two steps,” he replied, teasing him and making like he was going to sit back do
wn.
“Too far,” Gabe repeated firmly, tugging his arm more insistently.
He gave up—not that he wanted to keep resisting—and settled onto the bed in Gabe’s arm, resting his head on the noninjured side of his chest and gently wrapping his arms around Gabe’s trim waist.
Matt soaked in the comfort of simply being in Gabe’s embrace and not needing to be anywhere else. Not needing to worry about anything else. Not being Matt the dutiful son and nephew. Or Matt the successful business owner. Or Matt the guy who’d failed to see the path his cousin had taken. In Gabe’s arms, nothing could touch him, and he was thanking God the man who’d changed his life the minute he’d changed the tire on his rental was alive and for the most part fine. He couldn’t even think of those few panicked moments in the diner when he’d seen Gabe lying on the floor in a pool of blood and had feared the worst without the risk of falling into a hysterical heap.
“We’re okay,” Gabe murmured, as if reading his thoughts. Or maybe the fact he’d tensed up had given him away.
“We’re more than okay,” he replied.
Gabe kissed the top of his head, and he closed his eyes on a long sigh, relaxing into the soothing warmth of Gabe’s body and letting himself drift off to a deep sleep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
GABE WATCHED as Deputy Assistant Director Foley left his room, trailed by a group of agents and analysts, taking his ALP assignment with them.
Since the shooting in the diner a few days back, the FBI had stepped up their focus on the American Liberty Patriots. Though Thomas hadn’t been officially acting on behalf of the ALP itself, everything he’d done had been in their name, and now the powers-that-be in the FBI considered the guy to have been radicalized and the ALP’s status was getting closer to terrorist group with every passing day. A team dedicated to monitoring and possibly infiltrating the group’s compound had quickly been assembled.
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