Chapter 23 #2
“Mackenzie… please,” I whispered. My throat burned. “Don’t leave me.”
They lifted her to a transport gurney, voices around us sharp.
“Sir, you can’t follow into CT,” the nurse cut me off firmly at the door. “You’ll wait in her room. We’ll bring her back as soon as imaging is done.”
I nodded weakly, watching the doors slam shut behind them. I clutched the railing tightly, my hands trembling uncontrollably, a sinking dread pooling in my chest as I fought to breathe. Just as darkness threatened to overwhelm me, cold, unyielding hands settled heavily on my shoulders.
"Are you Max?” A calm, almost too-perfect voice pierced the chaos.
His tailored charcoal suit was crisp, his white shirt casually undone at the collar, a heavy, gleaming watch strapped to his wrist. His polished black shoes echoed sharply on the silent tile floor.
He carried himself with an unsettling confidence, like someone who owned the place, or believed he could destroy it if he didn’t get what he wanted.
Broad-shouldered, clean-shaven, hair slicked back with precision.
His eyes held a coldness that stared right through me, as if I were nothing more than an obstacle.
For a second, I thought mafia. He looked like the kind of guy you’d see slipping into the back room of a dimly lit club, making men twice his size sweat bullets with a cold, blank stare. He stepped back a few feet as I sized him up, and the corner of his mouth tilted in a slow, sinister grin.
“Yeah? Whose asking?” I said in my deepest, hoarse growl.
I didn’t care that tears blurred my eyes, pooling and spilling over.
Then he cracked a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. “You must be… the… boyfriend.”
There was a faint hesitation, like he was calling us out on our bluff, or testing how much we could take.
“Who are you?” I shot back, my voice sharper, standing straighter without realizing I had.
He didn’t flinch, just looked at me with an unsettling calm.
“I come in peace,” he said, raising his hands slowly, fingers twitching. “Names West. Tony West.”
“You watching us?” I asked, voice trembling slightly, a chilling sense of dread creeping in.
He smiled again, but his expression was sad. “Does it matter?”
“I’m not interested in whatever fucked-up game this is.”
He let out a breath and looked towards the trauma bay. A look of concern flickered across his face, then vanished.
“She’s going to be okay,” West said quietly, more to himself than to me. “But you need to calm down, or you’ll make this worse.”
I snarled, shaking my head. “I don’t fuckin’ know you.”
West’s jaw tightened. He leaned in until his voice was almost a whisper.
“When someone you care about gets hurt on your watch, it cuts deeper than you can imagine. You become fiercely protective. But you also get practical. Step aside for those who know how to fix this without risking everything. If you want to help her, stop making it about you.”
My fists clenched. “Nah. Fuck off.”
West didn’t answer. He simply shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and tilted his head, studying me with a half-smirk, half-grimace. His gaze was heavy, measuring, weighing his words with calculated precision. I hated the way it made me feel, like a fragile specimen on display.
"I think you’re capable of a lot when it comes to her,” he finally said, his voice flat and cold, almost clinical. “But she’s also your weakness. When she breaks, you break. And when you break, you get dangerous."
Those words clawed at me because they weren’t wrong. But what the hell gave this guy the right to question who I was?
My eyes narrowed. "You got here pretty quick,” I spat, voice thick with suspicion. "How many cameras are set up at the camp, huh?”
I threw it at him to see if it landed, and it did, as a flicker of irritation flashed across his face.
“Didn’t take you long to figure it out, did it?” His voice was steady, then he let out a short, cold laugh. “We flagged the breach the second you touched the firewall. You were clever, but reckless. Your dad told us you’d figure it out.”
He was baiting me. It irritated me more.
“I don’t want to talk about him now,” I shot back. “I’ll deal with him later.”
West’s voice turned flat, almost mocking. “He’s the one who laid the trail for you, the breadcrumbs you followed. Did you really think it’d be that easy to hack into FBI files?”
My stomach dropped. My dad had wanted me to find Mackenzie’s history. Why would he do that?
“If you’d watched Mackenzie half as closely as you watched me, she wouldn’t be in this hospital fighting for her life. I blame you both.” I stepped closer, close enough that he had to look up at me. “And I know for a fact the FBI doesn’t tell the CIA shit.”
West’s face tightened, something private crossing it. He looked away for a beat. Mackenzie was his weakness, too. He didn’t want to admit it.
“What is she to you anyway?” I asked, my voice catching as I looked him straight in the eye. He bit his bottom lip, hesitating just a moment before saying, “She’s family. I… see her as a daughter."
The words hit me harder than I expected, a stabbing blow of reality.
He was actually being honest. I took a step closer, my voice trembling.
"So, if she’s your family, you’d do anything to protect her, right?
” I pressed, vulnerability flickering. “She’s my family, too. I love her. I’d do anything for her."
My eyes darted down the hall, longing to see her walk toward me, to end this nightmare.
"Look, I get it, she’s got a past. That stays between us.
But I don’t like being messed with. And I certainly don’t like getting watched.
I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m sick of it. So, hear me now—fuck off."
West’s face remained calm, but his eyes pierced through me, icy and sharp.
“Fast reactions save lives, Max. But anger doesn’t.
Keep that in mind.” His tone was flat, but I sensed the threat underneath.
My chest still hammered with panic and adrenaline, yet beneath it all, my mind spun.
He hadn’t intended to reveal everything, but unfortunately for him, I was smarter than he realized.
They’re tracking everything: every step, every second. And I didn’t even notice until now.
West studied me, that faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.
His eyes lingered on me, intensity burning behind them. “You’ve got focus, instinct—a talent for reading people under pressure. If you could just channel that...” His gaze dragged over my body. “You’d be a problem. The kind you don’t want to face. In the best way.”
I froze, shivering despite myself. A problem? The word echoed in my mind. I already was a fucking problem. He just didn’t know it yet. Before I could speak, the nurse reappeared, wheeling Mackenzie’s gurney into view. She was still unmoving, eyes closed. West and I stepped forward instinctively.
"She’s stable,” the nurse said hurriedly, her voice tinged with urgency, noticing the panic flickering in my eyes.
“We’ve stopped the bleeding from the stab wound.
No major vessels hit. The wound’s sutured and packed.
She’s not actively hemorrhaging anymore.
Her blood pressure remains stable with fluids, and her oxygen saturation is good.
The CT scan came back clear. No skull fracture, no intracranial bleed.
She’s still unresponsive, but her pupils are reactive. She’s breathing on her own.”
A strangled sob escaped me as relief flooded over me.
She was breathing.
“Thank you,” I choked out.
“She’s not out of danger yet,” the nurse said softly, her voice cold with necessity. “But she’s alive. She’s stable. That’s good news.”
I nodded fiercely; my throat felt constricted, my words caught in my throat.
“Can I sit beside her? Please.”
She studied me long and hard, then finally nodded. “Alright. Just stay out of the way of the team.”
I didn’t wait for her to change her mind. I was already moving when West stepped into my path.
“Let me.”
The nurse blinked at him, her expression cautious. “And you are?”
“I’m her step-dad,” West said smoothly, a hint of coldness lacing his tone.
Well, that was news to me. I fought to hide the shock that flashed across my face, but failed.
“Sorry,” the nurse said, her voice clipped and firm. “Immediate family only.”
West tilted his head slightly, playing it cool, then nodded toward the waiting room. “Come on, Max.”
“Mr. McKinnon can come in. He’s her next of kin.”
West froze, his eyes narrowing into slits. A flicker of calculation behind them. In an instant, I saw him piece it together. He was noticing the way I moved, the way I claimed her, the way she belonged to me. This wasn’t some teenage fantasy. We were deeper.
For the first time, West’s posture shifted. He wasn’t confident anymore; he was guarded, wary. He was sizing me up, weighing his words.
“Next of kin?” he asked, voice tight and tense.
“Yeah,” I said, glaring at him. “Husband. Thought you knew.” The nurse glanced between us, rolled her eyes, and hurried back into the room.
A tense silence settled, broken only by a faint, knowing smile spreading across his face. “We’d have been alerted if you two got married. Don’t try to lie to me.”
“I proposed, she said yes. Same difference.”
“I underestimated you,” he exhaled, voice edged with disdain.
I stepped closer, voice cold. “We’re meant to be together; it was a long time coming. When I finally make her mine legally, I’m taking her away from all this fucked-up bullshit.”