Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
MARA
The waiting room at Whisper Vale Medical Center smells like antiseptic and stale coffee.
I've been sitting in the same plastic chair for four hours, still wearing Boone's blood on my sweater.
Vivian tried to get me to change, brought me clean clothes from somewhere, but I couldn't make myself do it.
Couldn't make myself wash away the last physical proof that he was alive when they took him from me.
Cade worked on him in the field. Stabilized the bleeding, managed the shock, kept him breathing until the medevac arrived. He'd looked at me with those gentle eyes and said the words "he's strong" and "the wounds are survivable" and "we got to him in time."
I'd nodded and said nothing and felt absolutely nothing.
That was four hours ago.
Now I'm sitting in this plastic chair, surrounded by Guardian Peak team members who've rotated in and out to check on me, and I'm counting the tiles on the ceiling because if I stop counting, I'll start screaming.
Two hundred forty seven tiles. I've counted three times.
"Mara." Vivian lowers herself into the chair beside me, her pregnant belly making the movement awkward. "The surgeon's coming out."
I'm on my feet before she finishes the sentence.
The doctor is a tired looking woman in her fifties, surgical cap still on, mask pulled down around her neck. She looks at the assembled group of massive, armed men filling her waiting room and doesn't even blink. Small town medicine, I guess. You see everything.
"Family of Boone Garrett?"
"Here." I step forward before anyone else can. "I'm his... I'm..."
"She's his," Deck says simply, moving to stand beside me. "What can you tell us?"
The doctor's expression softens slightly. "Mr. Garrett came through surgery well. The shoulder wound was clean, no major vascular damage. We removed the bullet and repaired the tissue. The abdominal wound was more concerning, but we were able to control the bleeding and there's no organ damage."
My knees buckle. Vivian grabs one arm, Deck the other.
"He's going to be okay?"
"Barring complications, yes. He'll need significant recovery time.
Physical therapy for the shoulder. But he's young, healthy, and apparently too stubborn to die.
" The doctor's mouth twitches. "His exact words when he briefly regained consciousness were, and I quote, 'Tell Mara to stop worrying and start planning the debrief. '"
A laugh escapes me. Wet and shaky and completely involuntary.
That's my Boone. Shot twice and still thinking about protocols.
"Can I see him?"
"He's in recovery. Once he's moved to a room, you can visit. One at a time initially, and only for short periods. He needs rest."
"I understand."
The doctor nods, then looks at Deck. "I'm assuming this wasn't a hunting accident."
"We'll have federal agents here within the hour to take statements," Deck replies. "The situation is contained."
"Contained." She shakes her head. "I've been patching up you Guardian Peak boys for three years. Nothing about your lives is ever contained." She turns back toward the surgical wing. "I'll send a nurse when he's ready for visitors."
The waiting room exhales.
Wolfe appears at my elbow, silent as always, pressing a cup of coffee into my hands. Sadie is behind him, her usual bright energy muted but still present.
"Drink," she says. "You're pale as a ghost and you've been shaking for an hour."
I look down at my hands. She's right. They're trembling.
"I couldn't lose him." The words come out barely above a whisper. "I've known him less than a week and I couldn't..."
"You didn't lose him." Sadie's voice is firm. "He's alive. He's going to be okay. And when he wakes up, you can yell at him for being a self sacrificing idiot who jumped in front of bullets for you."
"He did that." I wrap my hands around the warm cup, trying to absorb the heat. "He threw himself in front of me. Didn't even hesitate."
"That's Boone." Wolfe's voice is rough, rusty from disuse. "Plans for everything except his own survival."
Deck approaches, phone in hand. "FBI is on scene at the compound. They've taken the surviving hostiles into custody. Sully's traced the operation back to Nexus Technologies. Their CEO is being arrested as we speak."
"It's over?"
"The immediate threat is over." Deck meets my eyes. "There may be legal proceedings, testimony, ongoing security concerns. But the people who wanted you dead are in federal custody."
I should feel relieved. Triumphant, even. My company is safe. My technology is secure. The threat that brought me to Guardian Peak has been neutralized.
All I can think about is Boone, somewhere in this hospital, recovering from wounds he took protecting me.
"I need to call my father." The realization hits suddenly. "He doesn't know. About any of this."
"He knows." Deck's voice is gentle. "I called him two hours ago. He's on his way."
"He's coming here?"
"Wild horses couldn't stop him. His exact words were 'if that boy dies before I can thank him, I'll kill him myself.'"
That sounds like my father.
A nurse appears in the doorway. "Ms. Plummer? Mr. Garrett is asking for you."
I'm moving before she finishes speaking.
He looks smaller in the hospital bed.
It's a strange thought. Boone Garrett is six foot one of solid muscle, a man who fills every room he enters. But lying there with tubes and monitors and white bandages stark against his skin, he looks... human. Vulnerable.
Alive.
I cross to the bed, taking the chair someone has placed beside it. His eyes are closed, his breathing steady. The monitors beep in a rhythm that sounds like survival.
"Are you going to sit there staring, or are you going to hold my hand?"
I jump. His eyes are still closed, but his mouth has curved into a faint smile.
"I thought you were asleep."
"I was. Then I heard you breathing and decided sleeping could wait." He opens his eyes, those ice blue depths finding mine immediately. "Hi."
"Hi." My voice cracks. "You're an idiot."
"So I've been told." His hand moves on the blanket, reaching for me. I take it, lacing my fingers through his. "You're alive."
"Because of you." The tears I've been holding back for hours finally spill over. "You took two bullets for me, Boone. Two."
"Would have taken more." His thumb strokes across my knuckles. "Would have taken all of them."
"That's not romantic. That's insane."
"It's tactical." His smile widens slightly. "Can't protect you if I'm not between you and the threat."
"You can't protect me if you're dead."
"Minor flaw in the plan." He tugs on my hand, pulling me closer. "Come here."
"You're injured."
"I'm not that injured. Come here."
I lean forward, careful of his wounds, and rest my forehead against his. His breath is warm on my face. His hand comes up to cup the back of my head, holding me there.
"I meant what I said." His voice is low, rough. "Before everything went dark. I meant it."
"The part about me being your chaos?"
"The part about loving you." His fingers tighten in my hair. "I know it's fast. I know it doesn't make sense. I don't care. I've spent my whole life planning for every contingency, and you're the one thing I never saw coming. The one thing I don't want to live without."
I pull back enough to look at him. Really look. At the lines of pain around his eyes, the exhaustion pulling at his features, the absolute certainty in his gaze.
"I love you too." The words come easier than I expected. "I think I started falling for you the moment you blocked my car with your truck and looked at me like I was both your greatest asset and your worst nightmare."
"You were. You are." He pulls me down, capturing my mouth in a kiss that tastes like hospital and relief and home. "Move in with me."
I jerk back. "What?"
"When this is over. When I'm healed. Move into my cabin.
" His eyes are intense, urgent. "I know you have a company in San Francisco.
I know you have a life there. But we can figure it out.
Commute, remote work, whatever it takes.
I just need you close, Mara. Need to wake up next to you. Need to know you're safe."
"You're asking me to uproot my entire life."
"I'm asking you to build a new one. With me.
" His hand finds my face, thumb brushing away tears I didn't know were still falling.
"I spent three years in these mountains alone.
Planning, preparing, controlling every variable.
And then you showed up and destroyed all my carefully constructed walls in less than a week.
I don't want to rebuild them. I want to build something new. Something with you."
"Boone..."
"You don't have to answer now. I know it's a lot.
I know I'm probably high on painkillers and saying things I should wait to say.
But I almost died tonight, and it made me realize that I don't want to waste any more time not telling you exactly what I want.
" He takes a shaky breath. "I want you, Mara.
All of you. Every chaotic, brilliant, impossible part. "
I stare at him. This controlled, methodical man who plans for every contingency, lying in a hospital bed, asking me to throw out my own life plan and build a new one with him.
It's insane. It's reckless. It's everything I've spent my career telling myself I don't have time for.
And it's exactly what I want.
"Yes."
His brow furrows. "Yes?"
"Yes, I'll move in with you. Yes, I'll figure out the logistics. Yes, I'll build a life with you in these ridiculous mountains with your ridiculous team and your ridiculous cabin with the panic buttons." I'm laughing now, tears streaming down my face. "Yes, Boone. To all of it."
He pulls me down for another kiss, deeper this time, and I'm careful of his injuries but not careful of my heart. I give it all to him, every beat, every breath.
The door opens behind us. I pull back, wiping my face, expecting a nurse.
It's my father.