Chapter 15 #2
He checked Logan’s location. According to the app his family used to track each other, Logan was heading to the airport, but even if he left now, they’d be through security before he arrived.
Unless…
He shot off a quick text.
Liam
In Vegas. I’ll meet you at your gate.
He’d have to buy a ticket to get past security. Didn’t matter where—the cheapest one-way he could find. He wouldn’t actually fly. Just needed to talk to his brothers.
Although…the urge to get on a plane was real. Go anywhere that might help him forget this pain.
Anywhere but here.
Pain.
Sharp and relentless, pulsing through Nimue’s chest like broken glass with every breath. Her limbs—heavy. So heavy. Strange how the numbness dulled everything else, like cotton stuffed around the edges of agony.
Her eyelids might as well be cemented shut.
Antiseptic burned her nose. Something brushed her upper lip—oxygen tube, maybe? She tried to turn away from it, but her body belonged to someone else now. Sluggish. Uncooperative.
Hospital. The word drifted through the fog in her brain. Liam’s face flickered behind her closed eyes. The ground beneath her dropping away, a helicopter’s roar.
Right. The canyon.
Memories slipped through her fingers like water, there one second, gone the next.
A soft rustle yanked her closer to consciousness. Her eyes cracked open—oh, why were hospital lights always so brutal?—and there was Emberly. Red hair pulled back on the sides, those sharp eyes soft for once as they met hers.
Thank You. The prayer whispered through her before she could stop it. At least Emberly was here.
But where was Liam? Safe? Had they caught the Bratva? Had anyone followed her here?
“You’re awake.” Emberly’s voice hitched on the words. “You gave us a scare.”
“Liam?” The word scraped out of her throat like gravel, the oxygen tube pulling at her lip.
“In the waiting room with Stein. He seemed pretty worried about you.” Emberly winked as she stood. “I’ll go get him.”
Nimue managed a nod, her head pounding in protest. But unease gnawed at her stomach. Liam had been there—red eyes, warm hand covering hers—before the helicopter. And then he wasn’t.
Maybe it was over. Maybe, despite his words…
Yeah, well, she didn’t blame him.
The door clicked shut behind Emberly. Nimue eyed the IV snaking into her arm, the monitors beeping their regular rhythm. Everything hurt, but she was breathing. Alive. That seemed enough to be grateful for.
The door opened again. Green scrubs, surgical mask, purposeful stride. Just another nurse with her tray of whatever nurses carried. Nothing unusual.
Except Nimue’s skin prickled.
Those eyes. Dark, calculating, familiar in a way that made her chest seize.
The nurse set the tray on the table by the bed and lowered her mask.
Teresa.
No. No, no, no—
Teresa slammed a hand over Nimue’s mouth.
Nimue’s breath hitched, every muscle in her body going rigid despite the pain screaming through her ribs. The room shrank. The monitor’s beeps grew louder.
“Hello again,” Teresa whispered. “Can I trust you to be quiet?” She lifted one eyebrow until Nimue nodded. Then pulled back her hands and reached for her phone. “I need the files you stole and the four million. And with Alan Martin on my tail, I’ll do whatever it takes to get them.”
Alan Martin. The rogue CIA agent who had nearly killed the president’s daughter. Who’d planned numerous terrorist attacks in America and abroad. Who was still out there—somewhere.
Nimue’s hands trembled beneath the thin blanket. She opened her mouth—
Teresa held up her phone, a FaceTime call on the screen.
The feed showed Liam walking through crowds. Airport crowds. He stopped at a gate, checked his phone, settled into one of those uncomfortable chairs travelers knew so well.
Nimue’s stomach plummeted to her toes.
He’d left. Left the hospital. Left her.
The camera followed him—predatory, patient. At least the Bratva couldn’t smuggle weapons past security. But underestimating them had nearly gotten her killed once already.
“Give me what I want”—Teresa pocketed the phone—“or he’s dead. You have an hour. And don’t think about warning him—we’ll kill him before he can answer the phone.”
Doubt must have flickered across Nimue’s face because Teresa leaned closer, her breath warm against Nimue’s cheek. “I don’t need a weapon to kill someone. You should know that.”
The door creaked.
Teresa yanked her mask up, spinning away like she was checking a chart. She slipped out, brushing past another nurse coming in to check on Nimue.
Perfect cover.
Nimue’s chest heaved, pain flaring with each breath. She needed a plan. Needed to save Liam. But her body felt like it was filled with wet sand, and she didn’t even have a phone.
The nurse picked up her wrist, checked her pulse, and raised an eyebrow. “Oh my. Let’s get that blood pressure.” She strapped the cuff onto Nimue’s arm and took down her stethoscope.
Yeah, that was probably pretty high right now.
The door opened again. Emberly walked in, brow furrowed, but—thank goodness—she had Nimue’s pack.
The nurse finished, made a stern face, and then turned to Emberly. “She needs her rest. Don’t stay long.”
Emberly considered the woman as she left, then turned back to Nimue. “He must’ve stepped out. Stein said he went for air, but that was a while ago. He should be back soon.”
“He left.” The words tasted like ash. Tears spilled over before she could stop them.
Emberly frowned and sank into the chair beside her. “Trust me. I saw his face when I arrived. That man cares about you. I’m sure—”
“He’s at the airport. Already at the gate.” Sleep tugged at her, but she fought it. “Dig in the pack. There’s a gold bar. It isn’t four million, but it’s worth maybe a hundred grand. Maybe enough to buy time.”
“Buy time for what?” Emberly’s eyes sharpened. “What’s going on?”
The weight of it all—the responsibility, the secrets, the fear—crashed over Nimue. She couldn’t carry it alone anymore.
“Teresa was here. Just now. Disguised as a nurse.”
Emberly turned in her chair, started to get up.
“Not that one. She’s long gone. But she’ll be back. She wants four million and files I took from her. She showed me Liam on video—at the airport. She says that she’ll kill Liam if I don’t give her what she wants in an hour. And he doesn’t even know he’s being hunted.”
“Teresa’s here,” Emberly said, clearly stuck on that information. “This doesn’t make sense. If Alan Martin knew about missing money and files, he’d send a team. Not just her and a couple thugs.”
“It was her. I swear.”
“I believe you.” Emberly paced to the window. “But Martin’s not sloppy. He doesn’t leave things to chance. Which means she’s not working with him. This is rogue—but why?” She turned back. “What exactly did she say?”
“She said she needed the files and the four million. She said—”
“Four million is pocket change compared to what they usually handle. Why is she fixated on that specific amount?” Emberly’s eyes were calculating.
“She said something about Martin hunting her, but my head is fuzzy. And all I can think about is Liam.”
“Martin is hunting her? She must be trying to cover her own mistake. Trying to fix it before her boss finds out.”
A pause.
“I’m guessing Alan Martin doesn’t even know you exist. And I’d like to keep it that way.”
Hope flickered through Nimue’s fear. “How can you be sure?”
“If Martin knew you had something he needed, Liam would be dead already. Not followed.” Emberly shook her head, rewrapping the gold bar. “She’s desperate. Makes her dangerous, but sloppy too.”
She stuffed it back in the pack. “You said an hour?”
Nimue nodded. “What do we do?”
“I’m not here alone. Steinbeck’s with me, and he’s got contacts.” Emberly leaned forward. “When she returns, you offer her the bar. Promise more.”
“Then?”
“Then we trust—God, Stein, the good guys.”
“What if she hurts Liam first?” Nimue’s hand shook against the blanket. “That video…He didn’t know he was being followed. I’m going to lose him.”
“Have faith. We can—”
“Have faith?” The words burst out harsher than she intended.
“Listen, I know I’ve always been the one with faith, but I’m starting to wonder if somehow I got off track, wandering around in the wilderness alone.
And maybe that’s how it should be. Maybe God is teaching me that I’m supposed to be alone—”
“That’s a lie.”
“Why? If it weren’t for you, I would be completely alone—”
“And yet, you’re not. You do have me. And I have you. And God gave you a family—and now He’s given me a family, and…I think the whole point is that we’re not alone, Nim. God says He’ll be with us, wherever we go.”
She stared at Emberly. “So you’re really serious about this faith thing?”
“My sister drove me crazy for years, trying to convince me that God was on my side.” Emberly took Nim’s hand. “She finally made me believe it.” She leaned close. “Maybe so I could help her believe that God has never left her. That He’s always with her. Just like He’s always with Liam.”
Nimue swallowed.
“You told me once that God loves me more than you do. Well, God loves Liam more than you do.” Emberly squeezed her fingers. “And God is with us.”
“I didn’t say I loved Liam.”
“You didn’t have to.”
Heat crept up Nimue’s neck.
Emberly’s smile was soft but knowing. “We talk about trusting God with all our hearts. But trusting Him with those we love most? So much harder.”
She leaned closer. “And Liam’s tougher than he looks.”
Nimue’s throat tightened. With Steinbeck’s help, maybe…But Liam’s face on that phone—unaware, vulnerable—haunted her.
“I dragged him into this mess. And now I have to fix it.”
“What you have to do is lay in that bed and stay alive.” Emberly stepped back. “And have a little faith.”