18. Elliot
CHAPTER 18
ELLIOT
I open my eyes slowly, the effects of whatever medicine I’ve been given keeping me hovering just out of reach of full clarity. Machines hum softly in the background, the beeping of a heart monitor the first sound I fully recognize.
“Welcome back, brother.” Bradyn’s voice is a welcome familiarity as he steps into my eyeline.
“Jane,” I choke out.
“She’s fine. A bit sore, but Lani checked her out. She’s back at the house getting cleaned up. Kennedy had to practically drag her out to get her to leave.”
“The shooter?”
“Anderson Jacobs. Former SEAL who was dishonorably discharged for killing three civilians in what was called a botched rescue mission. He’s also dead.”
“He’s dead?”
He nods. “A .45 caliber round to center mass will do that. You had to do it, brother. He was going to kill you both.”
“Me? I didn’t shoot him.”
Bradyn narrows his gaze in confusion.
“Jane did.” I close my eyes, recalling the moment of panic when I heard a gunshot and couldn’t see her. “I couldn’t even move.”
“From the bloodstained grass to where he was found was a good distance. Not many could have taken that shot. We assumed it was you, and she’s barely spoken since then.”
First, she takes down a trained killer while injured; then, she makes an impossible shot. I’m afraid of what it means once we’ve pieced it all together. What if she really was working on the wrong side of things ? I dismiss the thought. No, it’s just not possible.
I suck in a breath, but my chest burns. “What’s the damage?”
“It missed your heart by seven millimeters. Went clean through, but you lost a lot of blood. You’ve been out for two days.” He takes a seat on the edge of the hospital bed and covers my hand with his. “You almost died, brother.”
“I didn’t though.”
“Because Jane managed to get you to the truck.”
“How did she get me down?”
“There was a pit in my stomach,” he says. “A nagging feeling that something was wrong, so I figured I’d drive out and just make sure. She was trying to figure out how to get down without you getting hurt when we got there.”
“It’s good you showed up when you did.”
“It was God,” he replies simply. “No other explanation. He knew you needed me, and He guided me there.” Bradyn lets out a breath then squeezes my hand and stands, crossing his arms. “Gibson is running the shooter through so we can get some more information. But the rifle he used was military grade. Expensive. My money is on a professional hit.”
“Just like the hospital. When I realized we weren’t alone—” The fear claws at me again, as though I’m reliving the moment. “All I saw was her dead on the ground.”
“You saved her.”
“This time. But what happens if I’m too late again?” I let my fear in for only a moment. “What if I lose her, too?”
Bradyn crosses over and clasps a hand on my uninjured shoulder. “We’re going to make sure that doesn’t happen, brother. No matter what we have to do.”
* * *
By the time Bradyn leaves, I’ve seen every member of my family—including Lani, who gave me a doctor speech about how I nearly died and need to start carrying a clot-stop kit in my saddlebags if I’m going to be out risking my life.
But the one person whose presence I’m craving hasn’t been here yet.
I can’t help but worry that she’s shaken by what happened. After all, I failed her. I got shot, and she was forced to take someone’s life to save ours. It’s another stain that will never wash off. While I hadn’t been there to protect her at the hospital, I should have been able to in those woods. It was my job.
The door creaks open, and the very woman who’s been on my mind all day steps into the room.
I let out a breath when I see her, my chest warming at the mere sight of her standing there—alive. Bradyn told me she was okay, and I believed him, but believing and seeing are two totally different things.
“How do you feel?” she asks, coming into the room.
“I’m sorry.”
Her gaze narrows on me, and she stops beside the bed. “For what?”
“I let you down. You counted on me to protect you, and you had to do the protecting.”
She reaches out and takes my hand in hers. My stomach twists when she touches me, a piece of my heart coming back to life after being unused for so long. “You saved me, Elliot. You took a bullet that was supposed to be mine. How could we have known that someone was out there waiting?”
“I should have suspected it. I should have?—”
“Done exactly what you did.” She takes a seat at the edge of the bed. “Elliot, you dang near gave up your life for mine.”
“And you had to take a life. Again.”
Her emerald gaze is locked on mine, and her response is without hesitation. “And I would do it, yet again, if it means you live.”
We’d joked about her being a broody Special Forces officer, but I’m thinking a soldier isn’t that far off. This woman has the heart of a warrior.
I swallow hard, trying to understand just how she’s gotten so far under my skin in such a short amount of time. “It’s a weight. Every death.”
“Something I think I am adept at carrying. Whatever that might mean.”
“You made a near-impossible shot today.”
“The more I learn about myself, the more I believe that I should just turn myself in.” Her expression is tortured, her shoulders slumped.
“Or what if you’re prior military? What if you love to hunt? There are plenty of different explanations that have nothing to do with you being a bad person. If you were a bad person, you would have left me to die. You didn’t.”
“I would never leave you to die.”
“Which is exactly how I know you’re not a bad person. You asked me when we were on our way to that park, and I told you it’s my gut. I feel it, Jane. You are not what you think you are. And I’m going to prove it.”
Her eyes mist. “I was so scared, Elliot. That you were going to die before I could get help.”
“I didn’t.”
“Because Bradyn arrived just in time.” She smiles. “I may not be able to recall Bible verses or a single moment aside from this past Sunday spent in a church, but I feel my faith.” She presses her hand to her chest. “I felt Him when we were in the truck. A wave of calm settled over me, and I just knew you were going to be okay.” She reaches forward and brushes her fingertips over my hair.
My heart beats faster.
“I’m so glad you’re okay, Elliot.” A tear slips from her eye and trails down her cheek.
“I—”
A knock on the door interrupts me, and Jane turns away as Gibson steps into the room, a man I’ve never seen at his side. “So sorry to interrupt, but?—“
“Nova!” The man sprints toward her, a wide smile on his face. But Jane takes a step back and throws up a hand. He stops, and his expression falters. “It’s me, Nova.”
“I don’t know you.” Jane looks from him to me then back to him. “Do I?”
Gibson smiles tightly then reaches into his pocket and withdraws a photograph. He offers it to Jane, and she takes it from him. A soft gasp leaves her lips before she turns and shows the image to me.
Pain that has nothing to do with the bullet that ripped through my body yesterday, nor the hours of surgery to repair the damage, shoots through my chest. The image is of Jane, her hair braided over her shoulder, a black dress hugging her form, as she sits at a table before a man who’s down on one knee, a velvet box in his hands.
“You’re her fiancé.” The words are poison on my tongue.
“I am,” he says, eyes full of tears. “Nova, I never thought I’d find you. I thought?—”
“I don’t know you,” she insists, shoving the photo back into Gibson’s hands. “I don’t remember you.” She backs up closer to the bed, so close her hand brushes against where mine still lies.
I want to tell her to stay with me, but if I do, what was all of this for? She wanted to learn who she was, and this guy can tell her. Which is something I haven’t been able to do. “He is who he says he is?” I ask Gibson.
He nods. “We ran him through the system just to be sure.”
I look to Jane—Nova. “If he is your fiancé, he might be able to help you.”
She turns toward me, emerald eyes wide. “I don’t know him.”
“Not anymore. But you did before. He can help you fill in the blanks.”
Another tear slips down her cheek, and she closes her eyes. Then, after a deep breath, she turns back toward the man who’d come in. “What’s your name?”
“Brett Grammer,” he replies. “I’m a detective with the Dallas Police Department.”
“You’re a detective?” I can hear the hope in her voice. The draw of the fact that maybe, just maybe, she’s more than she thinks.
He nods and smiles, tears of his own filling his eyes. “Yeah. You are too, Nova.”
“I am?”
He nods. “Detective Nova O’Conner. It’s how we met.”
She glances back at me. It makes sense, of course. The way she spoke about cases when we were in the woods, the way she’d handled that gun, her cool demeanor even amid danger.
Her ability to protect herself.
I was right. She is a warrior.
Even the surveillance video in the alley can be explained by this new revelation. She could very well have been undercover when that was taken. Rosalie could be another cop she brought in, or a CI. Her attention shifts back to Brett. “My name is Nova?”
He reaches into his wallet and withdraws a plastic ID then hands it to her. She studies it, reading the name on the front, then shows it to me. The driver’s license photo is her all right. Smiling. “It feels right. I guess I’m not so bad after all,” she says.
“I told you.”
Her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she turns away from me. “My name is Nova?”
He nods. “Nova O’Conner. I’ve been looking for you ever since you disappeared. If you give me some of your time, I’ll tell you everything.”
She turns back to me as though to ask permission. My gut twists into knots. I don’t want her to leave. Not until I know for sure this guy is really who he says he is. Photographs can be manipulated, after all.
“I want to talk in here. Elliot’s been helping me. Whatever you say to me, you can say to him, too.”
Brett’s dark gaze shifts from her to me. I can see his frustration, but he does what he can to hide it. “Okay. Of course.” He moves farther into the room and offers me a wave. “Thank you for saving her. They told me what you did. How you took that bullet for her.”
“Any idea who was after her in the first place?”
“Unfortunately not. Nova and I were both on assignments. Undercover,” he says. “When her handler said she hadn’t checked in, I abandoned my assignment and rushed back to Dallas. They wouldn’t give me any information, so I’ve been tracking her as best I can. I just happened to be passing through town when someone at the café mentioned a Jane Doe just dropped a Hunt brother off at the hospital.” He smiles at Jane—Nova—and I can see the love in his eyes. It breaks me. “I just knew, Nova. I knew it was you.”
“No one can tell you who was after me?”
“No. I can’t even get a clear answer as to what job you were on. Someone wiped all the files. Everything is gone.”
“Even her identity,” Gibson, who’s been silent this entire time, says. “We couldn’t get a hit on anything when we ran her name through the system.”
“They did a thorough job,” Brett agrees. “But now that I know you’re okay, we can figure it out. We’ll figure it all out.” He takes a step closer. “Please? I just want to hold you a minute.”
She hesitates for a moment.
Don’t do it, I long to tell her. Please don’t pick him. But he’s her fiancé. She already did. And married or not, she’s with him.
“Okay.” She straightens and holds out her arms. He wraps his around her and buries his face in her hair, holding her close. Jealousy churns my stomach.
“I missed you so much, honey. So much. But I have you now. I have you, and I’ll never let you go again.”
Releasing her, he takes a step back. “Can we get some coffee? I have so much to tell you.”
“I—” She turns back toward me.
“I’m fine.” I force a smile. “Go.”
“But—”
“I’m fine, Jane—Nova,” I reply, using her actual name. “Go and learn about yourself.”
“I’ll be back,” she assures me. “And I won’t leave the hospital.”
Will you? “I imagine I’ll still be right here.”