Chapter Eleven
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Delaney sat on the treatment table in the curtained-off bay of the Crossfire Creek ER, her injured arm resting on a sterile pad.
The nurse, a woman with graying hair and a calm, practiced air, worked efficiently to clean and stitch the wound.
It wasn’t serious, just a deep graze along the outer bicep, but it still throbbed with a steady pulse that kept her jaw tight.
Across the bay, Eli paced, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low and clipped as he spoke to someone at the sheriff’s office, likely getting an update on the gunman they’d taken down. He paused at the end of the curtain, not looking out but clearly listening to everything happening around him.
Delaney swallowed hard around the tightness in her chest. Heck, in her entire body. The smell of antiseptic clung to the air, sharp and clean, but it did little to wipe away the tension and the memories still flashing through her mind.
The gunshot blasts. The dirt. The heat of panic in her throat. She flexed her fingers, grounding herself in the now.
She didn’t want Eli blaming himself. He already carried too much weight.
The nurse finished the last stitch and patted her hand. “You’ll be sore for a while, but you’re lucky. No muscle or tendon damage.”
“Thanks,” Delaney managed, her voice steady.
“I’ll get the paperwork you need to sign and a script for pain meds,” the nurse added before she slipped out of the bay, leaving Eli and her alone.
Eli ended the call, and his gaze immediately dropped to her arm, then met hers. Anger and worry still burned in his eyes.
“I’m fine,” she insisted, reading the look on his face before he even spoke.
His jaw clenched. “You got shot.”
“And you handled it,” she reminded him, offering as much of a smile as she could muster. “It’s not your fault.”
He didn’t answer right away, just came to her side and looked at the bandage with a frown.
“Seriously, Eli. I’ve had worse papercuts,” she said, trying to add some levity to this non-levity moment. “You should see the ones I got during my Quantico psych eval week.”
That pulled a faint smile from him, just enough to soften the storm behind his eyes. He blew out a hard breath, running a hand through his hair, then looked back toward the curtain.
“Sheriff’s office has the guy in custody,” he let her know. “They’re processing him in and running his prints now. If he’s in the system, we should have an ID on him soon.”
Delaney would bet her paycheck that he’d be in the system. “You think Hale sent him?”
“Don’t know, but I think we’re getting close enough to the truth to make someone nervous.”
Eli reached for her, the motion slow and hesitant, like he was giving her time to pull away. She didn’t. She felt the warmth of his hand brush her back as he leaned in, the tension between them growing heavier by the second.
And then the curtain pulled back.
Noah stepped inside the small ER bay, eyes taking in the room quickly. He clearly registered how close she and Eli were, the way Eli’s hand had just moved from her back, the flush in her cheeks. But he didn’t say a word about it.
“You two all right?” he asked instead, his voice calm but clipped with concern.
“Fine,” Delaney said as Eli echoed the same word a beat behind her.
Noah studied them for a long second, then gave a nod. “Good. Because I’m putting you both on leave for the next twenty-four hours.”
Delaney sat up straighter. “Noah—”
He raised a hand. “Mandatory. That was not a suggestion.”
Eli crossed his arms but didn’t speak.
Noah’s expression softened slightly. “I’m not asking you to walk away from this.
I know you won’t. I wouldn’t, either. But you’re running on adrenaline and fumes, and someone just tried to put a bullet in both of you.
I need you sharp, and I need you alive. So take the day.
Work from home. Dig into the files, make your calls, whatever. Just not from the field.”
Delaney met Eli’s eyes. He gave her the faintest nod before turning back to Noah.
Eli gave Noah a small nod, then reached down and tapped at the face of his watch. A soft beep sounded as he set a twenty-four-hour countdown.
Noah caught the movement and gave a faint smile. “Good.” He pulled a chair from just outside the curtain and sat down. “I talked to Vivian. Told her about your visit to Hale, what Ava said, and the note she slipped you.”
Delaney’s pulse jumped slightly at the reminder. Eli had given Noah the full rundown while they were en route to the hospital.
Noah’s tone shifted, more serious now. “I also confirmed what Ava said about her trust fund. If she dies, Olivia inherits it. The wording in the trust is ironclad. No delays, no legal hurdles. It all passes to Olivia.”
Delaney’s brows pulled together. “You think that’s why someone’s trying to manipulate Ava? Or maybe scare her?”
Noah shook his head. “I don’t believe Olivia tried to kill her sister. Not for a second.”
“Neither do I,” Delaney said, and Eli made a sound of agreement. “But someone wants Ava to think that. And Hale is the one in her ear every day. It wouldn’t take much. He could twist the facts, plant fear, make her believe Olivia’s a threat.”
Eli let out a low breath. “A lie repeated enough times starts to feel like the truth.”
Noah gave a short nod. “Exactly.”
Delaney leaned back slightly, her arm still aching. “So what now?”
Noah looked between them. “You rest. But keep digging. The answer’s in the details. It always is.”
Noah stood and checked his watch. “You can give your statements to the local police in the morning. For now, there’s a new SUV waiting outside the ER doors. Your other one’s being looked at. Probably going to need a full panel replacement.”
He pulled a key from his pocket and handed it to Eli. “Get some rest. I’ll check in tomorrow.” With a nod to both of them, he walked out, his steps already purposeful and quick.
A moment later, the nurse returned with a clipboard and a small white bag. “Discharge paperwork and a prescription for pain meds,” she said, offering a warm smile. “Your arm should be fine, but take it easy.”
Delaney accepted the paperwork and glanced at the prescription, then shook her head. “Thanks, but I won’t be filling this. It hurts, yeah, but I don’t want anything that’ll cloud my thinking.”
The nurse nodded. “Totally up to you. Just don’t let the pain get ahead of you.”
“I’ll stick with ibuprofen,” Delaney let her know.
The nurse gave another kind smile and left them alone.
Eli helped her off the table and kept his arm around her waist. His TLC settled over her, and she didn’t try to brush it away.
“I’m good,” she said, just to him.
But his jaw stayed tight, his expression carved with tension. She wasn’t sure he fully believed her.
Delaney stepped out of the hospital into the cool midday air, Eli at her side. The new SUV was parked just outside the ER exit like Noah had said. Eli opened her door, helped her in gently, then circled around and slid into the driver’s seat.
The drive back to Crossfire Ops was quiet but not strained. Eli’s eyes stayed on the road, his hand steady on the wheel. She could tell he was still keyed up, still running over every second of the ambush in his head.
She was, too.
In fact, it might take a while for her to shut out the sounds of those gunshots.
When Eli parked in front of her cabin, she noticed the large cooler sitting on her porch. Eli got out first and carried it inside while she unlocked the door.
Once inside, he popped open the lid. “It’s from Noah. Meals he had sent from the diner in town,” he said, pulling out containers. “Sandwiches. Lasagna. Soup. A couple of salads. Looks like enough for two days.”
Tucked beside the food was a fresh bottle of Ibuprofen, still sealed, along with a roll of bandages and some gauze pads.
Delaney blinked, a mix of gratitude and exhaustion rushing through her. “I need to remember to thank him,” she murmured.
Eli had already twisted open the cap on the meds and gone to the sink for a glass of water. He brought it to her, dropping two pills into her hand.
“Take these,” he insisted.
She swallowed them down, her eyes on his the whole time. His worry was etched into every line of his face. She didn’t say anything. She just reached out with her good arm and gave his hand a light squeeze.
Delaney watched Eli move around her kitchen, unpacking the containers and slipping them into the fridge one by one. He held up two containers, glanced at her over his shoulder.
“Lasagna or soup?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not really hungry.”
His brows pulled together. That quiet worry again. The kind that weighed heavier than words.
She sighed and gave him a tired smile. “You pick. Your choice. Since you’re eating with me.”
That seemed to settle something in him. He nodded once and put the lasagna into the microwave. The quiet hum filled the room.
He turned back to her then. The light from the microwave screen played across his face, highlighting the tension there. He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at her like he needed to memorize every detail.
Then, on a quiet groan, he stepped forward and gently wrapped his arms around her.
Delaney didn’t resist.
Her face pressed against his shoulder, the steady beat of his heart grounding her.
His hand cradled the back of her head, fingers threading into her hair.
She let herself melt into the warmth of him, into the safety of that hold.
The fear, the adrenaline, the pain—all of it slid into the background for a moment.
Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to.
Delaney tilted her head, her cheek brushing the soft cotton of his t-shirt. She could feel the strength in him, the steadiness she leaned on more than she should.
When she looked up, her eyes met his, and everything else fell away.
She rose slightly onto her toes and kissed him.