He runs to me, dropping to his knees. “Hey, I’ve got you, baby. I’m here. Pres, we need to fucking go; she has been shot. There is blood everywhere,” he bellows to his brothers, his voice shaky.
I cling to him, shaking, my fingers gripping his cut. “Logan, he killed her. He shot her.”
“I know, baby. I know.” He cups the back of my head, one hand pressing down on my wound, making me cry out. “Fuck, I’m sorry, baby, but I need to add pressure.” I nod, but say nothing.
The room goes deathly quiet. The only sound is of feet shuffling, and leather creaking, as men step closer to Logan and me.
“A prospect is on his way with a truck; we will take her to the hospital. This wound is too much for Bolt, or me,” Rogue instructs, while he wraps something around my thigh, right before unbearable pain hits me.
“Careful, brother.” Logan’s voice is deep and full of warning.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but I needed to add a tourniquet,” he instructs.
“Call Palmer. He needs to meet us at the hospital. He will want to know what happened to his cousin, and he needs to get our side of things,” I hear Racer explain. I know what he means.
They want me to lie, but I will not lie to Grady. We are close and he will have my back.
“Baby, we need to move you, okay? This is going to hurt, but we need to get you to a doctor.” I nod against him, and he scoops me up gently.
Even though he goes slow, the pain is excruciating. I cry out, and my fingers ache from how tightly I am holding onto him.
I feel someone take a hold of my lower legs, straighten out my injured thigh, and peeking up, I see Savage. His face is grim, and blood is splattered on his neck, and face.
“We got you, baby. No one stand alone.” His voice is soft.
His words resonate through me, as each of the men walk with us. I feel the sense of family, and safety with them.
“Do not look.” Logan’s voice is sharp when I turn my head to look at the room.
Val really is gone; I set eyes on her one last time before we leave the room. Bodies lie on the ground, blood covers the floor, both making my stomach churn.
I feel drained, and my body wants to sleep as I lie limply against Logan. Once placed in the back of a truck, we are off, and commands are called out, but I focus on Logan’s breathing. The sound of his heart beating calms me.
Their voices fade, as does the pain, and the darkness takes me under.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CRASH
Watching my girl sleeping in the hospital bed makes so many fucking emotions swirl around my gut.
Anger like I have never felt before burns through me because those fuckers took Stevie and then shot her. Regret follows close behind for not ending this crew before they got to her.
She looks so fucking small lying in that bed, connected up to oxygen. Her leg is propped up on a pillow, and thankfully the bullet skimmed her bone. They cleaned out the wound in surgery and had to remove the bullet, so she is on antibiotics to fend off infection.
Cass and Cale left not long ago to go home to get some rest and freshen up. When they arrived, I expected them to kick me out, but Cass hugged me, and Cale thanked me for saving their daughter.
I felt their words like a punch to the solar plexus, regret weighing heavy on me for not protecting her better.
“How is she?” I turn to see Racer, Target, and Savage stroll into the room.
“No change. She will wake up soon, they said.”
“The rest is good for her,” Target replies.
“She is strong, brother,” Pres adds, and I nod.
“She is.” I run my hands through my hair, frustration riddling my body. “I should have protected her better.”