Chapter Three – Felix
Breathing heavily, I leaned against the tree, listening for footsteps or any sign that whoever was out there still posed a threat. The silence suggested my warning shots scared them away.
Snow flurries drifted around me, and I cursed the tiredness that put me behind schedule.
Instead of adhering to my carefully laid plans with a power nap, I’d stretched out on the sofa and slept for several hours. By the time I awakened, the light snow that greeted me on my arrival was falling in heavy drifts, though I still needed my luggage and supplies.
Which I had yet to get because I’d been halfway to the car when I heard voices. Trespassers always infuriated me. Most times, they ignored the clearly designated ‘Private Property’ signs. Never had I been met with gunfire.
Wild animals? Yes, which was why I armed myself.
Criminals? Never .
This deep in the forest, I was both defense and offense. To summon help, I’d need to use my snowmobile to get to the ranger station about three miles due north if my two-way radio was down.
Before I lost the chance to finish my tasks and froze to death, I dug my cell phone out of the pocket of my overcoat. Unable to search for the flashlight app while I held my gun, I shoved it away. A moment later, I had a smidgeon of light to see in front of me.
Scowling, I directed my phone to various spots and found everything in order. Just as I was about to turn and head back, someone moaned, and I froze. I shone my phone at various angles, and the light finally fell on a head of dark hair near a stand of trees on the outer edge of my property.
Without thinking, I jumped into action and ran toward the person. A glance over with the flashlight revealed a female face and a lithe, feminine body, surrounded by red snow.
Blood.
She’d been shot.
“H-hurts,” she managed.
“I know,” I soothed and scooped her into my arms. I needed to assess her injuries.
“C-cold,” she murmured.
“Stay with me,” I ordered. “Keep your eyes open!” I ran the short distance back to my property and hurried into the cabin. Once inside, I kicked the door closed, then went and laid her on the wooden dining table.
We were both breathing heavily. I chalked mine up to exertion, but she was also trembling, and I wasn’t sure if her symptoms were from cold, blood loss, or shock. Maybe it was a combination.
Blind to everything but saving her, I flipped on the overhead light and performed a visual assessment, alarmed at the three gunshot wounds. One to her arm, another to her shoulder, and another to her thigh.
Tearing off my gloves, I removed my belt to create a tourniquet for her thigh. That done, I reached for her, intending to help her into a sitting position, so I could take off her leather jacket, but she shoved my hands away with surprising force.
“Fendi!” she cried.
“You can’t worry about a purse or whatever. You’re gravely injured.” I was wasting time even talking to her.
Pain-glazed and foggy, golden-brown eyes, ringed by thick lashes, met mine.
“Fendi,” she insisted, struggling to a sitting position without my help and grabbing my wrists. “Goddamn,” she cried out, but her cold fingers gripped mine with surprising firmness. “Help her.”
“Her?” I pried her fingers away from me and stepped back. “Was someone else out there with you?”
She nodded and swayed.
“Fuck!” Not allowing her to fall back, I steadied her, holding her delicate wrists and not letting go. “I have to staunch the blood in your shoulder wound.”
“Get away from me!” She yanked her wrists away and fell backward. If I hadn’t moved fast, she might’ve hit her head on the wood. “Find Fendi.”
Her order chafed my nuts, but luckily, she was my patient—unwilling though she was—not anything else, so I excused her behavior.
“You’re gravely injured,” I told her. “You need help.”
“Fendi needs it more.” Her lashes fluttered closed, then opened again. “Please.”
“Listen…what’s your name?”
“None of your fucking business,” she spat. “ Find Fendi ,” she gritted through chattering teeth. “You’re not fucking touching me until you get her. They can’t fucking have her!”
“They? Who the fuck is ‘they’?”
“Shut up and do what I told you to do. Now!”
Outside, the wind howled, and I knew I was fast losing the opportunity to unload my SUV with much-needed supplies, including food, thermal blankets, and medical paraphernalia. Continuing to argue with her would not only risk her life but also my safety.
“I’ll try to find your friend,” I said in a voice brooking no argument, the one I would’ve used if she were willingly at my mercy. “First, I’m wrapping your goddamn shoulder, so keep still, and I don’t want to hear another fucking word from you unless I give you permission to speak.”
She blinked. I swore something flickered in the depths of her eyes. Submission that called to me. My nostrils flared, and she lowered her lashes. Conceding to my authority.
Stepping back, I took off my overcoat and unbuttoned my dress shirt. Fingers still trembling, she began unzipping her jacket, visibly gritting her teeth, and struggling to get it off. I reached for her, wanting to help, but she flinched.
“Get away from me,” she growled, fierce even in her weakened state.
I drew in a deep breath. She was injured and frightened and needed reassurance, not my fucking highhanded impatience.
“Shhh,” I crooned. “I won’t hurt you. I only want to help you.”
She paused, allowing me to enclose my hand around hers.
“Good girl,” I complimented, staring into her eyes and willing her to behave as I finished the task. I worked quickly, not liking her sharp intakes of breath and flinches. “I’m almost done.”
“Okay,” she croaked.
I set aside her heavy jacket and brought my hands to the next piece of leather.
“Don’t touch my cut!” she snarled, back on the offensive.
“I’ll touch anything I need to if it saves your life,” I said coldly, shoving away the vest and ignoring the thunk as it fell onto the table, to reveal a white pullover stained with bright red blood.
A closer assessment required removing her top. However, I’d promised to search for her friend, so I opted to take off my shirt and fashion a sling to wrap her shoulder and arm, happy the wounds were on the same side. To get the job done, I ignored her hisses, groans, and glares.
The temperature had taken another nosedive, and the freezing air sharpened the metallic scent of blood. I hurried to the bedroom and jerked away the comforter, then wrapped her in it.
My cell phone never had a signal when I visited my cabin, which was why I had a state-of-the-art DMR installed that connected directly to emergency services.
When I had a reception. And at the moment, I didn’t. Thankfully, I still had lights, but for how long, I wasn’t sure. The freak early Arctic blast was more severe than I first imagined. My generator would be overwhelmed.
Once I grabbed my coat, I ran back outside, cursing the heavy drifts of snow and near-whiteout conditions.
No fucking way would I find anyone, so I didn’t even try.
Instead, I unloaded my car. During each trek outside, the weather deteriorated.
By my third and final trip, I could barely stay on my feet, and freezing dampness permeated my fucking bones.
I dropped my last bag on the floor near the door, then locked us in.
Ignoring my chattering teeth, I grabbed my bag of medical supplies and headed back to the stranger.
Finding the table empty with little more than an abandoned comforter dotted with droplets of blood to show where my patient should’ve been.
Growling in frustration, I stormed to the door at the opposite end of the room and almost tripped over her legs. She was leaning against the wall right outside the door.
Flicking the light on, I loomed over her, until she felt the weight of my glare and tipped her head back. Once again, something in her gaze called to me. Something I knew and had fostered for years.
But it was more than that. She looked at me with defiance. Even as injured as she was. It was her suspicion, however, that got to me the most.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I demanded.
“I need my cell phone. I need to make a call.”
“I don’t know where your phone is,” I told her. Probably buried in snow. “I’ll allow you to use mine if you cooperate with me.”
“You don’t have a say—”
“The fuck I don’t. You’re injured. My priority is saving your life.”
Her suspicion increased. “What are your qualifications?”
Was she really questioning me when she was on the verge of fucking fainting?
I reached for her, but she knocked my hand away.
“My name is Felix,” I told her before her condition went from serious to critical. “Felix Good. Dr. Felix Good.”
A smile graced her unnaturally pale lips. “Dr. Feel Good,” she quipped on a strangled moan.
Surprised laughter escaped me, but I wouldn’t cross that line. “What’s your name?”
“I don’t want to die,” she whispered instead of answering me, and something tight twisted in my chest at her wide eyes—frightened but still stubborn.
I gave her a gentle smile. “You won’t.”
Her chin wobbled and her breath hitched. “I’m scared,” she murmured. “Please, don’t let me.” Tears slid out of her eyes and she heaved in a breath. “Please, I’m not ready to die. My sisters need me. Save me.”
“I will,” I promised gruffly. “But you have to trust me.”
She swallowed. “I don’t like doctors.”
“Not many people do, but I promise you if you trust me, it’ll ease your mind. This isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s just you and me for now.”
I stroked her dark hair to comfort her. Her soft fingers closed around one of my wrists and she met my gaze. “D-don’t let me die,” she whispered.
“I won’t,” I swore.
She nodded and released me. Her weak, tremulous smile touched something in me. “Okay, I believe you, Felix.”
I was supposed to be the protector, not the one suddenly feeling so exposed for a reason I couldn’t comprehend. “Your name, sweetheart?”