Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
One second I’m ready to tell her the truth about me, the next I’m waking up with the airbags blown, the dash caved in and my heart in my throat.
What the hell is that noise?
I shake my head, and cough, clearing some kind of dust out of my throat.
Fuck. Is that blood in my eyes?
A blaring alarm competes with the hiss of the truck’s radiator. What in the hell happened?—
Then I see her.
Holy fuck.
“Goddamnit, Marianna.”
I scramble across the seat, desperately trying to reach her neck to stabilize her. “Hold on baby. Can you hear me?”
Pain shoots through my legs as I crawl over part of the truck’s dash that’s now crumpled between us. “Please don’t be dead. Please!”
She’s too still.
My bloody hands shake as I try to find her pulse. “Oh, thank god. Come on baby, wake up.”
I lift her left eyelid as I fumble to find my phone.
Scout answers immediately. “Yo. What’s going on?—”
“There’s been a horrible accident. Send the helicopter. I know you have a tracker on the truck. Marianna is unresponsive. Hurry!”
+++
Three Hours Later
The scent of antiseptic and fear fills the room. A doomsday clock ticks. The compressor in the water fountain on the wall cycles on and off.
Minutes feel like lifetimes.
Agonizing lifetimes of regret.
I lift my head from my hands when a hand squeezes my shoulder.
“Why don’t you change your shirt and wash up?”
Elbows on knees, I return to staring at the ugly carpet, intently ignoring my boss. Trying just to survive the crushing terror. Every breath is razor wire sawing in and out of me. “Don’t even try. I’m not going anywhere.”
A female steps into the room. Her delicate throat-clearing draws my eyes up. But disappointment hits me in the chest like a sledgehammer.
Not the nurse.
I should be glad to see Beast’s woman. But I’m not. I can’t care about anything. Marianna is all that matters. All that will ever matter.
Camile is in the doorway with a small brown paper bag in her hands. She holds it toward me. “I got you some wipes and some first aid supplies.”
“I don’t need anything.”
Beast folds his tall frame until he’s on one knee and right in my line of sight. “Man, let them look at your face, you need stitches.”
I brush the back of my hand over the bleeding gash near my hairline. “S-nothing. It’ll stop eventually.”
Camile rests her hand on the only part of me that’s not grimy or bloody, my left bicep. “Why won’t you let someone take care of you?”
“I’m not leaving this seat until I go back there. Period. Now if you want to give me a damned baby wipe, or whatever, do that. But I’m not going anywhere.”
She squeezes my arm and straightens up, following Beast as he rises and steps back. They retreat to a corner of the room where they speak in low voices that I can’t hear for the static in my ears.
This is my fault.
Marianna’s laying in the operating room in a third world country because of me.
“She’s going to be alright, brother.”
Gritting my teeth, I lift my head and find Scout standing in front of me. Hands hitched in his back pockets, all the lines on his face are tight. More than usual anyway.
“Mr. Goodlove?”
I practically knock Scout’s two-hundred-fifty-pound frame out of the way when the nurse calls my name.
Standing rigidly, I raise a hand. “Yes. That’s me. Is Marianna…okay?”
“She’s fine. Asking for you. She’s groggy, but she’s doing well. The shrapnel was easier to remove than the doctor originally thought.”
My head drops. Chin to chest, I blow out a breath. Relief burns through my body chasing the adrenaline that’s kept me on edge for hours. Tears tighten my throat to the point of pain. “Th-thank you.”
Camile rushes to me and grabs my arm again, holding a packet of wipes and a small box of bandages out to me with her other hand. “You cannot go back there looking like you do.”
The nurse puts a hand in the center of my chest. Her voice goes soft. “Your friend is right. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”
“You’ve got sixty seconds.”
“You know what…” Beast is on me in a split second, putting me in a Full Nelson headlock.
Scout gets right in my face, nose to nose. “Don’t think I won’t back him up on this. You got no chance against the two of us, so just shut up and let’s get this done.”
Those bastards.
Beast rumbles, “Where do you want him?”
The nurse sweeps her hand toward the hallway. “Just down here in the triage room.”
My teammates hustle me along to an open door. Inside there’s a gurney and a tray with medical supplies. I’m shoved onto the bed and pushed flat on my back on the paper protector.
“Don’t move.” Beast shakes out his hands. “Let the lady do her job so you can see Marianna. Five minutes won’t hurt and you sure don’t want to scare her more than she already is.”
Camile appears in front of my face, looking down, her red hair draping over her shoulder. “Take a breath, big guy.”
“I’m. Breathing.”
“More. Big, slow breaths. It doesn’t help to blame yourself.”
“It was an unforgivable mistake. I could have gotten her killed and I know fucking better.” Searing pain closes my throat, stinging my eyes. “I know better, Camile. I fucking know better. I should have cleared the truck. But no, I drove her with a goddamned bomb on the vehicle.”
Sadness draws her brows together as Beast wraps his arms across her chest. He kisses her temple. “Babe, why don’t you give us a minute.”
With a silent nod and tears in her own eyes, she steps out of the room.
“Going to sting.”
The nurse pours something into the cut on my brow that burns like fuck. I want it to hurt more.
Probing the cut, she sighs. “You want me to numb you?”
“No. I need the pain.”
She frowns down at me as blue tips of her gloved fingers push the wound together. “You’re getting glue after that answer. This is not about being a martyr.”
I stare at the ceiling with a war raging inside of me.
“Alright. Done.” The snap of her gloves is loud as she jerks them off. After washing her hands, she turns to my team leader. “He’s all yours. I’ll be outside to take him to see the patient when you’re done talking.”
I lurch up off the table, only to be slammed back down. Beast’s hand is around my throat, Scouts’s hand is biting into my shoulder.
Beast lets out a grunt. “Not yet, man.”
I grab the TL’s oversized wrist and try to knock Scout’s hand off. “Don’t fuck with me right now. You got what you wanted, now let me up.”
Scout steps back, but Beast tightens his hand around my neck as we stare at each other.
I know what’s coming. Pure venom. Beast doesn’t anger easily, but when he’s on a tear—watch the fuck out.
“Now listen to me, asshole, before I lock your ass down and let security drag your carcass to a holding cell. That girl’s going to be scared. She’s going to need your head straight. You need to change your shirt, wash all that damned blood off of you, kick yourself in the ass, and walk in there ready to help her.”
“I am ready.” I grit out as I squeeze his wrist in a bone-crushing grip. “But I am never going to forgive myself.”
He jerks me upright by my throat. Seething mad, he hisses in my face. “Guilt is a dangerous fucking thing. We all make mistakes. We all miss things. You know this from the Teams. But you had no reason to think a bomb had been planted on the truck. No goddamn reason.”
Breath heaving, I tighten my hold on his wrist. “That’s not true and you know it. My head was messed up because all I could think about was being alone with her.”
Fury burning through me, I clench my free hand into a fist and slam it into the tabletop. “I failed. Failed to keep her safe, Beast. I’ve been distracted and every one of you deserves better. I’m never going to be okay with that.”
His hand loosens and he steps back. “Change your shirt. That’s an order.”
I snatch the clean black T-shirt he throws from the air. Fisting the back of my filthy shirt, I rip it off over my head and throw it in the trash can.
It takes every bit of my strength to breathe down my anger as I smack the faucet handle. The hiss of water breaks the deadly silence.
Blood swirls in the sink.
I’m covered. Bloody ass head wound. No depth to it, just lots of vessels.
I scrub the remnants off my neck and my chest, until I’m mostly clean. Scout shoves a wad of paper towels in front of me.
Crossing his arms, Beast blocks the doorway. His shoulders reach from side-to-side of the opening. “You remember the night I almost lost Camile?”
“Of course,” I snap.
“Don’t you think I felt the same as you do? I went out on the op that night. I wasn’t there to protect her. If I let that eat me alive, I wouldn’t be the man she needs. The mate she deserves, not someone that’s living in a damned loop inside my head.”
“Fuck,” I roar and shove my hands in my hair. “I need to be angry at myself right now.”
“Or what?”
“You don’t understand me, Beast. Everyone thinks I’m the jokester. That’s not what’s under here.” I pound my chest as I stalk across the room toward him. “This is how we’re different.”
Getting in his face, toe-to-toe, I let the ugliest parts of me show. “This is how I survived. When my world was shit, this was how I held my broken pieces together. Anger. I can’t let that go. If I do… I won’t be anything. Nothing to the team. Nothing for… her.” The last word breaks, clawing out of my throat.
I need to feel the burn of my anger. Fuel. Glue. The only thing I know.
Now, I’m nothing to her but an idiot that got her hurt. This is it. Whatever she might have felt for me is over. Killed by incompetence. No, not incompetence, fucking negligence.
When Beast’s hand shoots up, I brace for a blow. But he doesn’t hit me. He lays his hand on my shoulder. “First, brother, thank you for telling me. Second, we’ve got a lot to talk about when we’re on the other side of this battle. But I want you to know that I understand what you just said.”
Shaking with my anger, I look at one then the other. “I’m going to hunt whoever did this down. I’m going to gut that fucking town and whatever bullshit is going on there.”
“Good. Let me know when and I’m going with you.” Beast tips his chin to Scout who’s standing loose-limbed but ready in the corner. “All of us. We’ve got your back. Now go in there and be the man I know you are beneath all of your fucking scars. Whatever she is to you, I’m glad. I’m fucking glad you’re not alone anymore. You’ve been alone long enough.”
The knot in my throat turns jagged. “I’m not alone. I haven’t been alone since I got my trident, and became a part of the Teams.”
“You're damned right, but us men are not what you need.”
Stepping back. I shove my arms through the clean shirt. “Time for talking is over.”
Beast steps aside, but he’s not done. “You know what you need, right?”
“Apparently you know what I need. So what is it?”
“Someone to finally undo what your mother made you believe—that you’re unlovable.”