Chapter Ninety-Two
Asher
Cold air hits my face hard enough to sting.
Outside. We’re outside.
Raine did it. I don’t know how. Everything’s…fuzzy.
But not her. Not her face. Her hair. Her scent. Not the way she winces with every step.
“Stay with me,” she says, breathing harder now.
I will. I have to.
A black SUV idles in front of us. Raine gets the door open, and we half fall, half slide onto the floorboards.
“Asher, you have…to help. A little,” she says. “Please.”
I do. One leg, then the other. Enough to get myself onto the seat. Raine too, since my arms are still locked together around her shoulders.
The vehicle lurches forward. A woman’s voice—not one I know—cuts through the sound of the blood pounding in my ears. “Hang tight. We’ll have Doc in under a minute.”
Doc.
The word cuts through the haze.
Doctor. Fuck. I need a doctor. I have to know what’s wrong. Why I can’t talk. If it’s permanent.
Raine ducks out from under my arms, scoots closer, and cups my cheek. “You’re okay,” she whispers. “You’re going to be okay.”
There’s so much I want to say. I try. God, I try. Frustration spikes hard enough it almost burns through the exhaustion. But I can’t make the sound come.
It’s warm in the car. My eyes ache. My whole body is hollowed out, like there’s something important missing, but I don’t know what it is. Everything…hurts. The edges of my vision blur.
No. Not yet. Please, not yet.
The door on my other side opens. “Well, subtlety wasn’t their strong suit, was it?” I try to turn my head, to see the guy who just got in behind me, but Raine is still touching me, her eyes bright with tears.
I’m here. Don’t give up on me. Please…
“Doc, Inara’s still got eyes on the building, and it’s about to be a shitshow,” the woman behind the wheel says. She’s blurry. All I get is dark hair in my periphery.
The cuffs fall away with a click of metal and a muttered curse. My arms drop. I can’t stop them. Can’t feel them enough to try.
Something wraps around my bicep. Pressure. Too much. Fingers touch my neck. “BP’s tanking. Heart rate’s all over the damn place and that’s a lot of blood. Head for my clinic—”
“No.” Raine’s voice now. Firm. “Too public. Voss might be dead, but GSD—they could still come after us.”
The doctor sighs. “Guess I’m starting an IV in a moving vehicle. Again.” Vague rustling noises come from somewhere. The sound of plastic tearing. Something cool against my skin. “At least we’re not ten thousand feet in the air dodging RPGs. Natasha, head for Asher’s place in Bellevue.”
Safe house. Music playing softly. A bed. Our bed. Raine.
My head hits the back of the seat, I close my eyes, and let go.
Raine
Hanging from the handle at the top of the door frame, the IV drips steadily. Doc peels back the bandage around Asher’s torso, curses under his breath, and shoves a wad of gauze under it. “Still bleeding. But slow enough, it can wait.”
Asher’s entire body is shaking. The kind of tremor that lives in muscle pushed past every limit it had, then pushed some more.
After a few minutes, his fingers twitch. He forces his eyes open, searches for me, and I slide closer. “I’m right here,” I whisper.
He lifts his hand. Slowly. It stops halfway, falls back onto the cushion. He tries again. This time, he makes it. Fingers soft against my cheek. They’re too cold. But they’re real.
A single tear cuts a slow line through what they’ve done to him, and stops before it makes it to his chin.
I give up holding myself together. “Hey.” The word comes out broken in ways nothing but hearing his voice will fix, but I try anyway. “I’ve got you.”
He can’t answer. I watch his mouth open and the effort move through him with nothing on the other side of it. And I watch what it does to him.
I cover his hand with mine. I’ll hold it there—against my cheek—for as long as he needs. I can hold us together. I have to.