37. Killian
Was that fucker Gary Paul dead? Fuck if I knew. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out, not with my Millie shot and bleeding in my arms. Hunter was there, considering he was the one who shot Gary Paul half a second after the pastor fired his gun. He’d take care of everything while I ran like my life fucking depended on it. Over and over, I pleaded with any deity listening that Millie would be okay as I sprinted through the trees, with her unconscious body tucked tight against my chest. Unconscious or…
I gave my head a hard shake. Millie was simply unconscious from the shock of the night and being shot and her head slamming hard against a fucking tree root. It had nothing to do with the hot, sticky blood soaking my shirt and dripping onto the leaf-covered ground with every pounding footstep.
She would be okay.
This wasn’t our end. Not when we’d just found each other again.
A flicker of light up ahead signaled I was near the fence that spanned the perimeter of the compound. With a grunt, I increased my speed, knowing every damn second counted for the love of my life in my arms.
Millie would be okay.
I could get her to the hospital and demand that every person there save her.
Skidding to a stop, breaths fogging in front of my face with every heavy pant, I scanned the wire fence for the hole Hunter was supposed to cut out for our escape—though I never imagined the escape would be with a bleeding Millie in my arms.
There.
Jogging, I attempted to keep each step soft, so as not to jostle my precious cargo, and squeezed through the opening, not caring that the cut sharp ends sliced into my back as I ensured not a single one touched Millie. A single car waited along the curb, headlights off. Praying I didn’t have to shift my girl to pull the gun from my waistband, I moved toward the vehicle. A tight breath released at finding it empty and the keys waiting in the driver’s seat.
I needed to remember to kiss Hunter the next time I saw him for thinking ahead.
“Hold on, my Millie,” I whispered as I jerked open the passenger door and slowly lowered her into the sedan. “You’ll be okay.” After buckling her in, worry flooding my mind when she didn’t wake, I stepped back and slammed the door. Behind the wheel, I shoved the key into the ignition and slammed the gearshift into drive.
“You’ll be okay, Millie,” I repeated. “You have to be.”
Hand wrappedaround Millie’s dainty fingers, I pressed the back of hers to my bowed forehead. A steady beep from the heart monitor was the only sound in the private hospital room. Her skin against mine triggered the night’s events two days ago to replay over and over in my mind as a reminder of how I failed her.
I was too damn focused on making sure Karigan didn’t end up like me, her soul splattered with dark stains, that I took my focus off the real threat. It was all I could do in the moment to not let my fear and emotions take control as I cradled Millie against my chest, running through the thick trees toward the gate. Thank fuck Hunter and Karigan were hot on my heels because with Millie hurt, she was all I could focus on.
My hold tightened around Millie’s hand as hot tears leaked down my cheeks and splashed onto the thin white blanket wrapped around her still body.
The bullet wound to her side was technically a graze—though a little more to the left, and it would’ve been a through and through that would’ve been a hell of a lot worse. It was the head injury that the doctors needed to monitor, which was why they kept her sedated. Once the scans came back showing the slight brain swelling had gone down, they’d bring her back to me.
If she’d even have me.
I fucked up, bad.
The one woman I wanted to keep safe almost died because of me. Hell, she wasn’t out of the woods yet. The doctors didn’t know if there would be any lasting damage from the head injury.
If I couldn’t protect her, then what in the hell did she need me for? She didn’t. And there was no way in hell I could stick around and watch those dark eyes fill with disappointment and disgust once she woke up and realized how badly I had failed her.
This was why I had stayed away, why my father forced me to leave her behind. The woman he loved was hurt, killed, and he never recovered. That wasn’t even his fault, like this situation was mine. I just knew she would never forgive me.
The chair legs scraped along the cheap flooring as I stood. Arched over the bedrail, I sealed my lips to her forehead, a few tears falling to her too pale skin. “I’m so sorry, Millie. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Turning, I started for the door, stilling when it swung open and Hunter stepped through, a steaming to-go cup in each hand. He froze, just like me, eyes searching my face while his frown deepened.
“What are you doing, Coop?” Using the toe of his shoe, Hunter closed the door and leaned back against it. “You look like shit.”
“Good.” I ran a hand through my hair, and as if to prove his point, my fingers caught and pulled at the tangled mess. “That’s exactly how I feel.”
Lips pressed in a tight line, Hunter inclined his head toward the hospital bed I’d stayed vigil over since they wheeled her into the room. “Still sedated?” I nodded. “Damn, Cooper. Tell me what’s going on. Talk to me. This look on your face is sheer devastation.” Palm on my scruff-covered jaw, I pressed on the bruise, hoping the burst of pain would distract me from my heart fucking breaking. “You look like the families of victims we talk to. As if you’ve already lost her.”
Hand dropping, I swallowed hard, refusing to look at the bed. If I looked at her now, I’d go right back to her bedside instead of leaving like she deserved. “Haven’t I, though?”
“She’s right there, Coop. A little banged up, but she’s still here. But that look in your eye, the way you’re acting, makes me wonder, will you be here when she wakes up?”
Both hands slid into the side pockets of my slacks, and I raised both shoulders in a noncommittal shrug.
“Nope.” The bite of irritation in Hunter’s tone had me snapping my focus to his anger-lined face. “Fucking hard nope.”
“Nope? What do you mean, nope? This shit right here is none of your concern?—”
“Not my concern? Oh, you motherfucker,” he whisper-shouted. Coffee sloshed over the side of the disposable cup onto the floor when he jerked a finger to point at himself. “I’m your damn friend. The one who watched you go from hiding who you really are behind this dumbass persona to…” He sighed, some of the fight leaving him. “To being damn happy. I saw it all this past week, Cooper. Millie is it for you. She’s your person. I know it, you know it, and she knows it.”
Guilt rolled in my gut when I finally allowed myself to glance at the bed.
“I failed her,” I whispered. “She’s here in the hospital, fighting for her life, because of me. Her fucking brain is bruised.” My finger jammed into my sternum. “Because of me.”
“Really?” Sarcasm dripped from the single word. “I guess I saw the whole thing go down wrong. You were the one who shot her?”
“No,” I growled, hands balling into fists.
“You tripped her and angled her body so that her head would perfectly hit the edge of a tree root?”
“You know what I meant,” I growled, taking a menacing step closer. “Stop talking sense.”
A wicked smirk played on his lips as he eyed my balled-up fists and defensive stance. “Okay, okay, you want to go right here, right now?” Stooping over, he set both cups on the floor and rolled his shoulders. The tight black T-shirt that stretched to the max over his arms and chest with the movement reminded me he was the only one on our team who could kick my ass in hand to hand. “Come at me, Cooper, because if you will not fight for you and her, then I will.”
My jaw dropped. He stared me down for a few seconds before relaxing.
“Special Agent Cooper, speechless. That’s something new. I should document that somewhere.”
With an exhausted sigh, my shoulders dropped. “What good am I to her if I can’t keep her safe? She doesn’t want me.”
“Did she tell you that in her sleep?” I flipped him the bird. “Just asking because you seem really damn sure that the woman who looks at you like you’re her entire world will just walk away because of what happened. It wasn’t your fault. If anything, it was mine.”
An incredulous bark escaped. “What the hell? No, it’s not. You’re the one who took down the bastard, who got there in time?—”
“Not before he pulled the trigger and hurt Millie.” The door rattled as he leaned back against it. Easing to the floor, he balanced both forearms on his bent knees. “I feel responsible for it all. It was my fault, and I’m so damn sorry. I owe her an apology, too, but that will have to wait until she’s awake.”
“What the hell are you talking about right now, Hunter?”
“If I would’ve gotten there a second sooner, taken a different route or ran a little faster, he wouldn’t have had time to pull the trigger. She wouldn’t be in the hospital, and you wouldn’t be considering walking out on the best thing that has ever happened to you.”
With a resigned sigh, I moved to sit beside him. We sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, both lost in our own grief and guilt.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted.
Hunter’s head hit the door, and he rolled it until he faced me. “You stay here with her. Pretty sure that’s all she wants.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
His smile turned mischievous. “Then kidnap her and use that damn chemistry between you two until she does.”
A huffed laugh escaped. As crazy as that suggestion sounded, it made sense to me. “Enough about my shit-show love life. Everything wrapped up in the case?” My phone wouldn’t stop blinking and rattling with incoming calls and messages that I continued to ignore. Rhyan understood why I couldn’t leave Millie to head back to the scene, but that didn’t mean she stopped checking in. “Sorry I can’t be there to help clean up the mess I made.”
His shoulder knocked against mine. “All good. Though the paperwork to explain the eight dead bodies is all yours once you’re back.”
My brows furrowed as I calculated how many I took down. “I only took out five. Well, and the one I put two bullets in the thigh. Oh, and the guy I beat to shit and left tied up in the closet.”
He actively avoided my gaze as he hid a knowing grin behind the coffee cup. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun.” The sparkle in his eyes dimmed. “I saw some messed-up stuff while I bunked with the security team. Several of them didn’t deserve to continue breathing, so I made sure that happened.”
I raised a tight fist until he tapped his against it. “The followers, leadership team, sheriff? I feel like all you’re focusing on is the pile of bodies we left behind.”
Hunter smirked. “Followers? Well, most are fucking pissed that a government employee killed their precious pastor. He wove so many lies and promises that they’re confused, angry, and left with nothing. The FBI sent counselors over, but most are refusing help. Hell, they won’t even leave the compound. That fucker Davis is stepping up, trying to calm everyone’s fears while quietly replacing Gary Paul as the lead of the church.”
“His wife?” Fuck, I was an asshole. I hadn’t even thought about her since that night at their place.
“She’s safe. Traumatized but safe. The FBI moved her out of state and will hold off on making her relive everything she’s gone through until she’s ready. As for the leadership team, some stayed, but most bailed, not wanting to get wrapped up in an FBI raid. You should’ve seen how fast that Simon guy bolted after we found him hog-tied in that closet.”
“You’re welcome for that, by the way. I hope you got a few hits in yourself.”
“He might have tripped a few times and landed on my fist. The sheriff… no one knows where the hell she is. We had a team raid her house, and, of course, the files are gone. Not sure how she was tipped off, but she’s on the run. We’ll find her, though. It’s a shit show, which we knew it would be.”
I nodded and looked back at the hospital bed. “Now what do I do?”
“Now, you wait, and the second she wakes up, you marry that woman.” With a groan, he stood. “Because if you don’t, I for sure fucking will.”
He was right. Millie was mine, now and forever. Time to make her title as my wife an official one.
Leaning to the side, I pulled out my phone, ignoring the missed calls and messages, and tapped on my contacts, scrolling until I found the one I wanted. Phone pressed to my ear, I held a nervous, shallow breath, waiting for the call to connect.
“Son.” Dad’s voice boomed through the line.
“Dad,” I choked, suddenly terrified and way too damn emotional. “I need to tell you something, and then I have a favor to ask.” His silence was all I needed to continue.
I just hoped he had changed as much as I believed, and admitting the future I wanted with Millie didn’t put her in more danger than she was in the last week. But if he came for her to tie up loose ends, or sent someone to do it for him, I’d be ready.
She’d never be in the line of danger again.
Not on my watch.