Chapter Twenty
THE AMBULANCE SLOWED to a stop at the ER minutes later, and soon the EMTs pushed the gurney bearing Rayne’s soon-to-be husband into an exam room. As soon as the EMTs left, Rayne threaded her fingers through Grant’s.
Medical personnel rushed into the room and began a quick assessment of his condition. A nurse glared at Rayne. “You shouldn’t be in here. The waiting room is down the hall.”
“I’m not leaving him. He’s in danger, and I’m his bodyguard.”
The nurse’s gaze dropped to their clasped hands. “Looks like you’re more than that to me.”
“We’re getting married soon but the danger still exists and my role in protecting Grant remains unchanged.”
The woman rolled her eyes but returned to her work without further comment.
After a decade on the streets of Chicago, Rayne had seen more than her fair share of gunshot wounds. Except for wounded children, none of the gunshot wounds had affected her as much as this one. Seeing Grant’s bullet wound turned her stomach. The injury was wrong and offensive.
Grant shouldn’t be lying on this exam room table, bleeding while the medical team determined the extent of his injuries and how best to treat him. He shouldn’t be injured at all. The hole in his side marred the perfection of his tanned skin.
If the situation wasn’t so serious, Rayne would have laughed at herself. No operative survived missions without injuries. They all returned to the states with cuts, bruises, and, yes, even bullet wounds. Injuries were the cost of their chosen careers.
Grant squeezed her fingers. “Hey, look at me,” he murmured.
She dragged her gaze to his, tears blurring her vision.
“I’ll be fine. You’ve seen injuries like this before. The doc will patch me up and I’ll be as good as new in a few weeks.”
“A few more centimeters and the outcome would have been different.”
“But it wasn’t. The shooter wasn’t aiming at me.”
Grant was right. If the sniper had wanted to kill Grant, he’d had plenty of time to take the shot. But he hadn’t.
This time his target had been Teagan. Did the shooter mistake Teagan for her or was he hurting Seth by attempting to kill his wife?
They wouldn’t have answers to those questions until they caught the shooter. If he allowed himself to be caught. This guy might prefer to go out in a firefight than live for decades behind bars for murder while the justice system played out his appeals as he sat on death row.
The doctor looked at Grant. “Mr. Bowen, you need surgery, my friend.”
Grant grimaced. “Figured.”
“Shouldn’t take long but you’ve lost a lot of blood, and we need to see if the bullet nicked a vital organ. What blood type are you?”
“O positive.”
“Good. Should be easy to replenish what you lost.”
“I can donate blood for him,” Rayne said. “I’m O positive as well.”
“You’re welcome to donate. We always need donations.
However, Mr. Bowen needs blood soon, and your donation must be processed.
The quickest we can use your blood is tomorrow.
” The doctor returned his attention to Grant.
“Dr. Grayson will be your surgeon. He’s an excellent physician and surgeon. You’ll be in expert hands.”
“How long is the recovery time?”
“You should take it easy for a month so your body can completely heal.”
A month. If they wrapped up this case in the next few days, Grant would have several weeks to slow his pace.
Her gaze locked with his. Heat burned in the depths of his eyes. Looked as though the handsome operative was thinking along the same lines as she was. A month gave them time for a quick wedding and a long honeymoon.
Grant shifted his gaze to the physician. “Let’s do this, Doc.”
“Give me two minutes, then you’ll be on your way upstairs to the surgical suite.” The doctor gave the medical staff orders and left the exam room.
Rayne leaned close to Grant. “Did you see the shooter?”
“Nope. He’s good,” Grant admitted. “And trained.”
She froze. “You’re sure?”
“No way a good-old-boy with a rifle made that shot.”
“We already suspected he was trained.”
“Sure, but the shot at my father was about half a mile from the house.”
She uttered a soft whistle. “Wow.”
“Yeah.”
The physician returned. “All right, Mr. Bowen. They’re ready for you.”
“How long will the surgery take?”
“Two to three hours, depending on the amount of damage from the bullet.” He glanced at Rayne. “If you’ll wait in the family waiting room, a nurse will keep you apprised of Mr. Bowen’s condition during surgery.”
She shook her head. “I need to be closer than that, sir. Grant’s life is in danger. I can’t protect him from the family waiting room.”
“Although I understand the precaution, you can’t be in the surgical suite.”
“I planned to wait outside the operating room door. I can watch for any suspicious activity. If someone finds another way into the operating room, I’ll be seconds away instead of a couple of floors.”
The ER doctor stared at Rayne a moment, then nodded. “I think we can accommodate you. There is a second door into the operating room. Would you like me to ask a security guard to stand watch at that door?”
Relief untied the knot in her stomach. “I’d appreciate that, sir.”
“I’ll take care of it. By the time Mr. Bowen is out from the anesthesia, the guard will be in place.”
Rayne trailed the orderlies as they guided the gurney through busy hallways, into an elevator, and through more corridors until they reached the surgical suite.
Grant held out his hand to her. When she took it, he said, “I’ll be back soon.”
“You better, Mr. Bowen. I have big plans for you.”
He grinned. “Oh, yeah? Can’t wait to find out what they are.” Grant sobered. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you, too, and I have your back.”
The orderlies pushed the gurney through the doorway, and they were gone.
Rayne leaned against the wall across from the operating suite and settled in for a long wait.
Although the doctor said the surgery could take up to three hours, she wondered if it might take longer.
If the bullet nicked something vital on the way through Grant’s body, the repair might take longer than expected.
She slid her phone from her pocket and called her boss.
“Yeah, Maddox.”
“It’s Rayne.”
“Sit rep.”
She summarized the events that had unfolded after the operatives arrived at the Bowen house. “Grant believes the sniper was aiming at Teagan.”
Her boss growled. “Is she all right?”
“Sore in a couple of places where Grant tackled her. Otherwise, she’s fine.”
“So he took a bullet meant for her.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How bad is his injury?”
“He’s in surgery now. The doctor said it’s a through-and-through, but he was concerned that the bullet had nicked vital organs. Grant lost a lot of blood.”
“He’s as tough as old shoe leather. He’ll be fine. Any news about his father?”
“The last word we received was that Mr. Bowen was still in surgery.”
“Anything else I should know?”
Should she tell the boss about their plans after the mission was complete?
“You have something to share, I take it. Let’s hear it, Weatherly.”
She blurted out the news. “Grant and I are getting married after this mission is over.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, sir.”
He gave a wry laugh. “Our competitors will label us a matchmaking agency. Great. Just great. Guess I’ll have to spin that so it’s not as embarrassing. How long is Grant’s recovery time?”
“A month.”
“It’s a good thing I have another team almost ready to take on assignments. Keep me updated on Grant’s condition. When you two tie the knot, I want to know so my wife and I can attend. Rowan has a fondness for weddings and I don’t want to disappoint her.”
“I understand, sir.”
“If you need anything, tell me. We’ll take care of it. Maddox out.”
A nurse exited the operating suite. “Rayne?”
She straightened away from the wall. “That’s me.” Oh, man. Grant hadn’t been inside the operating room for long. Had something gone wrong?
The other woman handed Rayne a small, clear evidence bag. “Mr. Bowen said to give you this and tell you to run it. Does that mean anything to you?”
Rayne smiled. “It does. How is he?”
“The surgeon just started working on Mr. Bowen. So far, his vitals are stable although his blood pressure is a little low. We’re working on that by giving him blood. Try not to worry. Mr. Bowen is in expert hands.”
The nurse returned to the operating room, leaving Rayne alone to handle her anxiety and worry. She arranged for a package pickup and transport to a private lab. “I appreciate you taking care of this for me, Zane.”
“Glad to do it. How’s Grant?”
She told him the little information she knew.
“He’s tough. Grant will be fine. You’ll see.”
“I can’t help worrying about him.”
“He’s a lucky man. I hope he knows that.”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll remind him.”
Zane chuckled. “You do that.” He remained silent for a few seconds. “Gotta go. I have a team in a hot zone. Later.” And he was gone.
For the next two hours, Rayne paced outside the operating suite. The nurse returned twice more to update her on Grant’s progress. Each time, Rayne’s man was a little stronger.
At the three-hour mark, Iona arrived to pace with her. “Where’s Elias?” Rayne asked.
“Standing watch outside Mr. Bowen’s operating room. Elias can handle guard duty by himself for a few minutes while I check on you.”
“I’m fine.” She wasn’t anywhere close to fine.
“Uh huh.” Iona sounded skeptical. “Take five. That’s an order. I’ve got the watch.”
Rayne protested, then realized the futility of it. Her team leader kept close watch on her team and she’d figured out Rayne was at the end of her tolerance for waiting patiently. She held up both hands in surrender. “Five minutes.”
Rayne looked for a vending machine and was in luck. Three vending machines were around the corner in an alcove. After purchasing a soft drink and peanut butter and crackers, she returned to Iona. “Thanks for the break.”
“Do you need more time?”
She shook her head. “I’ll be all right now.”
“If you’re not, I better hear from you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”