Chapter Twenty-Seven
RAYNE SAT UP , scanning the occupants of the room.
Five operatives alive and breathing. Five men from Gino’s unit dead.
One sniper with fatal intent dead. Thank God.
On a normal day, she wouldn’t rejoice in the deaths of people at Fortress’s hands.
This day was anything but normal, and she was more interested in keeping Grant safe than in expressing remorse at the senseless loss of life.
So sue her. Some people were simply evil, and their deaths didn’t affect her as much as other deaths. A few of the six soldiers fit into that category.
She cut through the remaining tape on Grant’s wrists, then went to work on the tape securing his ankles to the chair legs.
Rayne scowled. What did they do? Use an entire roll of duct tape on Grant?
The sticky tape was several layers thick and wrapped tightly around his calf just below the top of his tactical boots.
Since the duct tape wasn’t touching Grant’s skin, she peeled the tape away from the boot and chair.
She hoped the chair wasn’t an antique because she’d just removed the varnish along with the tape.
Grant’s wrists, however, were another matter.
The duct tape was wrapped around his forearms and wrists.
If she attempted to remove the tape, Grant would lose at least one layer of skin, possibly more.
Also, the pain would be extreme. He was already hurting from the bullet wound.
Rayne didn’t want to add more discomfort.
She sat back as she sheathed her knives. “That’s as much as I can do without hurting you.”
“Thanks for cutting me loose and for protecting me while I was out of commission.”
“You would do that and more for me, Grant. Plus, I love you. Your safety will always be my priority.”
He gave a slight smile. “Good to know.”
When he continued to lie on the floor near spreading pools of blood, alarms went off in her head. “Need a hand getting to your feet?”
“I’ll rest here for a while.” His face was pale and dotted with perspiration.
Something was definitely wrong with Grant. Rayne caught Seth’s attention and signaled that she needed him.
He said something to Teagan, who nodded, then came to crouch beside Grant. “Sit rep, soldier.”
Although he’d been drifting and unfocused when she asked him questions, Grant seemed to come to attention at Seth’s words despite continuing to lie on the ground.
“A bullet kissed my upper right arm.” He paused for a couple of beats, then added, “I need to return to the hospital. I think my stitches popped on the way here. My body is weak, dizzy, and sweaty. I might be running a fever, and I feel like crap, sir.” He lapsed into silence.
“We have to do something,” Rayne snapped.
“We will.” Seth rose and grabbed his phone. “Heads up, everybody. I’m calling the cops and an ambulance. Be prepared. We’ll be here for a good while.”
Andre groaned. “Great. I’d planned to have a facial and spa treatment at the hotel. You’re interfering with my beauty regimen, Dixon.”
He snorted as he made the call. Two minutes later, he slid the phone into his pocket. “Cops will be here in five minutes. The ambulance will arrive in two minutes.”
Good. Rayne breathed easier. The faster the ER doctor examined Grant, the better she’d feel about his situation. He’d lost more color from his face in the past few minutes. She didn’t like it. That fact alone caused her to fear for his life.
Rayne shifted so Grant could lay his head on her lap instead of on the floor. She smiled when he sighed and relaxed against her. “Hang in there, love. Help will be here soon.”
“I’ll be okay,” he murmured. “Don’t worry.”
“Can’t help it.” She threaded her fingers through his hair, stroking gently. “Worrying about your man is one of the marriage rules.”
Another slight curve of his lips. “Is that right? Where did you find the rule book?”
“Where else? Amazon.”
“I’ll have to buy a copy. I don’t want to break the rules.”
The ambulance sirens cut off abruptly, and a minute later, a knock sounded on the front door.
“I’ve got it,” Andre murmured and loped toward the front of the house. Soon, he returned with two EMTs maneuvering a gurney between them.
After examining Grant, they started an IV, lifted him from the floor, placed him on the gurney, and strapped him down.
“Where are you taking him?” Seth asked as Rayne followed the EMTs and Grant.
“St. Michael Memorial Hospital. It’s five miles down the road.”
“Expect the cops, Rayne. Be ready.”
“Copy that, sir.” She hurried outside in the cool morning air, climbed into the back with Grant, and threaded her fingers through his.
The EMT frowned. “You shouldn’t be back here.”
“I’m not moving. Besides, the thugs back there drugged and kidnapped me. Grant and my friends saved me.” She showed him the duct tape still covering her wrists and forearms.
Grant rolled his eyes.
Yes, she was exaggerating a little. She also contributed to her rescue. But Rayne wasn’t sure she would have been able to escape six men. Chances were excellent she would have been recaptured a second time or killed if they decided she was too much trouble to keep.
The EMT asked her a series of questions, eventually concluding her biggest problem was the duct tape and the unknown drug in her system.
“The doc will check you out and do a blood test to discover what you were given. He’ll also remove the duct tape. I’m not gonna lie. The process isn’t pleasant, but he’ll be careful.” He turned back to check Grant’s vitals.
Rayne looked down at him. He was out. Her heart lurched. “How far did you say the hospital was from here?”
“Five miles,” he said, voice grim. “Hey, Joe, step on it, will ya?”
A second later, the ambulance leaped forward, lights flashing and sirens blaring.
Soon, the driver parked at the ambulance entrance at the hospital, and the two men quickly maneuvered the gurney from the vehicle and into the emergency room with Rayne half jogging behind them.
A nurse called out, “Exam Room 2, Joe.”
Joe waved in acknowledgment without slowing his stride. They rolled Grant into the exam room and transferred him to the hospital exam table.
The door opened, and a doctor strode in. “What’s the story?”
Joe pointed at Rayne. “She’s a kidnapping victim.” He pointed at Grant. “He was part of the rescue team.”
“He has a bullet wound in his side from a previous encounter with the kidnappers. Grant thought he'd popped some stitches.”
The doctor nodded. “All right. You’re free to go, guys.”
“Thank you,” Rayne said to them.
“Sure thing,” Joe said. “Doc Carmichael will take good care of you.” Then, they were gone.
The doctor turned to Rayne. “The nurse will be here soon. We had a five-car pileup a few hours ago, and we’ve been slammed since then. I’m sorry you’ll have to wait longer for help.”
“I don’t care about my wait. I’m worried about Grant. You need to do a blood test soon, though.”
Carmichael examined Grant. “Why?”
“When I was kidnapped, the guy injected me with something, and we don’t know what it is.” She handed the doctor the syringe Grant gave her. “This is the syringe he used.”
Carmichael laid the syringe on a tray. “Well, this will certainly make matters easier.”
The door opened again, and a nurse hurried in. “Sorry, Doc.”
“No problem.” He inclined his head toward Rayne. “She’s the victim of a kidnapping and was drugged. I need you to draw blood and send it to the lab immediately along with this syringe. The kidnappers drugged her with whatever is in it.”
“Yes, sir.” The nurse, Diana, washed her hands, tugged on neoprene gloves, and gathered what she needed to do a blood draw. “I’m Diana.”
“Rayne Weatherly.”
“Pretty name. A little pinch.” Soon, vials of blood and the syringe were on their way to the lab for testing.
“Thanks,” Rayne murmured to Diana as she continued to watch Grant.
“He must be pretty special.”
Understatement of the year. “We’re getting married.”
“Congratulations, Rayne. When is the big day?”
“As soon as possible.”
“I’m so happy for you. Where are you going for your honeymoon?”
“We haven’t discussed it. Honestly, I don’t care where we go as long as we’re together.”
“Well, I hope everything works out for the best.” Diana turned toward Carmichael. “Finished with the blood work, sir.”
“Excellent. See what you can do about Ms. Weatherly’s duct tape. I don’t think she wants to start a new fashion trend.”
“How is Grant?” Rayne asked him.
“Your friend is right. He broke some internal stitches. We’ll have to go back in and repair the damage.”
She swallowed hard. More surgery? Did that mean his recovery time would be longer than previously thought?
The doctor made a phone call, and things moved fast from there. Within minutes, orderlies arrived to wheel Grant to the operating room.
“I need to go with him,” Rayne said. “He can’t be without protection.”
Carmichael shook his head. “We need to take care of you. I already asked security to stand outside the operating room and to follow Mr. Bowen to recovery. He’ll be safe while we tend to you.”
Not enough protection in her book. However, the operatives were stretched thin. Donovan was dead, as were Gino and his team along with Rex and Eileen Lawson. Was anyone left who was a threat to Grant’s safety?
Although the logical answer was no, she still didn’t feel good about letting Grant have an operation without one of their own people watching over him. “I need to make a phone call. It will only take a minute.”
“I’ll check on one of my patients in the room next door and return in five minutes.” The doctor hurried from the room. Diana gathered more supplies from the cabinets located across the room.
Guess that was as much privacy as she’d get under the circumstances. She grabbed her phone and called Zane.
“Yeah, Murphy. Talk to me, Rayne.”
“I need backup at St. Michael Memorial Hospital. They just took Grant to surgery, and I’m needing medical treatment as well, so I can’t be with him. He has hospital security monitoring things for the moment.”
“Understood. I’ll see if someone’s available to lend a hand. Hold.” Zane returned two minutes later. “Good news, Rayne. We sent two other operatives to relieve Eli Wolfe and Jon Smith. Wolfe and Smith are on their way to you. They should arrive in fifteen minutes.”
Relief swept over her like a tidal wave. No one would get past Eli and Jon. They were tough-as-nails Navy SEALs and would have no trouble keeping Grant safe. “Thank you, Z.”
“Glad to help. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine. Just need to have a million layers of duct tape removed.”
He whistled. “Ouch. Let me know if you need anything. We’ll expect an update on you and Grant in four hours.”
“Copy that.” Rayne slid her phone into her pocket as Carmichael entered the room.
“All set?” he asked.
She nodded. “I arranged for additional security from our company.”
“Well then, since your friend will be protected, let’s take care of you.”