Chapter 36 #2
“Thank you, Ms. Parks,” Captain Marshal said at the same time Darlene and Kevin stepped away, obviously satisfied with their work. “Per protocol, we have both your weapons, but pending our finding, you can retrieve them tomorrow.”
Callie glanced at Gabriel, and he nodded.
“Thank you,” she said. “We’ll call in the morning. We will likely head to Vegas to check on our friend.”
Marshal nodded. “The life flight should land in about thirty minutes. Our last update is that he’s critical but still alive.”
Joe could still succumb to his injuries, but the fact that he’d made it more than an hour boded well. At least Callie chose to believe it did.
“Thank you,” she said again, this time including the EMTs with a sweep of her gaze. “Are we allowed back into our cabin?” she asked, not sure whether to direct the question to Marshal or Gabriel since he’d been privy to the full bevy of activity at the resort.
“I packed our stuff, and they’ve moved it to another cabin. It’s the owner’s private one, so not part of the resort pool,” Gabriel answered.
She nodded, as if that meant something to her.
She didn’t care where they slept. Not that she thought she’d sleep at all, given that they’d be waiting for news on Joe.
She hoped it had a soaker tub, though. She really wanted a long hot bath.
Maybe not the most appropriate thing to think about with Joe fighting for his life, but she couldn’t help him; his life was now in the doctors’ hands.
She and Gabriel would rest—to the extent they could—and heal, then drive to Vegas in the morning.
They ran the risk of running into Rian and Aiden once they reached the city, but like a puppy, Joe had endeared himself to her.
She cared about what happened to him and wanted to be nearby when he came out of whatever surgery he needed.
Gabriel held out his hand, and she set her now-bandaged one in his as she rose. He indicated a golf cart left for them by the staff and, after saying goodbye to the first responders, he led her to the vehicle.
“Is it far?” she asked, her body both weary and buzzing with the post-adrenaline dump.
He shook his head. “Too far to walk after the night we’ve had, but only about a half mile.
” Before he started the golf cart, he pulled his sweatshirt off and handed it to her, leaving him in a long-sleeved shirt.
“You need it more than I do,” he said before she could object. “You ran, what, two or three miles?”
Her damp shirt had long since dried, and she opened her mouth to point that out.
“Don’t, Callie,” Gabriel cut her off. “Just put the sweatshirt on.”
She studied him, noting the look in his eye.
Something new. Something not quite feral but reminiscent of a nature show she’d once watched about wolves.
Gabriel’s expression exuded the unspoken dominance of the alpha wolf, brokering no room for argument.
But underlying that was worry. The same concern she’d felt in his embrace when she’d returned from the canyon.
The unnerving dominance coming off him in waves gave her pause, but his worry? She could allay that.
Without a word, she pulled the sweatshirt on.
They drove five minutes in silence before pulling up to a cabin not dissimilar in style from the others but twice the size. That alone gave her hope that there would, indeed, be a soaker tub.
She followed him to the front door, where he keyed in a code. She barely noticed the foyer or beautiful Saltillo tile floors before he ushered her into a massive bedroom with an en suite bathroom.
“Grab your clothes. I’ll start the bath for you,” he said, stepping away from her side and heading into the bathroom. She watched him, unsure what to do, if anything, about his mood.
“Get your clothes, Callie,” he called out as the sound of water filling the tub filtered out from the bathroom.
With a shake of her head, she found the walk-in closet with her bag sitting neatly on a bench in the middle of the large space.
As she started digging through it, she ignored the internal monologue running in her head, pointing out that she’d been in much worse shape before and hadn’t needed anyone to care for her.
The same voice that told her to take a quick shower and hop in the car to Vegas tonight, that Joe was far more important than an indulgent soak in a tub.
While all of that was true, another little voice whispered to her to let it all go for a few hours.
To accept that she could do nothing about Joe tonight, that being at the hospital wouldn’t change anything, that she didn’t need to always be doing something , that she didn’t need to always be proving herself.
The little voice was tentative but insistent, painting a picture of a different kind of life than the one she’d lived so far. One that had balance and trust. One where she had value even when not being the best of the best. One that she found herself cautiously considering. Maybe one she’d want.
By the time she found her pajamas and wandered into the bathroom, the tub was almost full. Gabriel sat on the edge, staring at the water, lost in his own thoughts.
“Thank you,” she said, refraining from telling him he didn’t need to help so much.
He turned, his gaze sweeping over her. She could only imagine what he saw: streaks of dirt down her leggings and the front of her shirt, her palms bandaged, antiseptic ointment glistening in the bathroom lights on her cheek.
God knew what her hair looked like, and she wasn’t about to turn toward the mirror and find out.
She’d pin it up for her bath, then comb it after.
He turned off the taps and rose. “I’m going to take a quick shower in the other bathroom. You good in here?” She nodded. “You want a drink or anything? The staff told me the bar is fully stocked.”
She considered it, then nodded. “But I’m going to get it,” she said.
She appreciated his care, but she wanted—needed—to get her own drink.
It might be stupid, in fact, it was stupid, but pouring herself a small glass of whiskey gave her enough control over the situation so that she didn’t feel entirely helpless.
He seemed to understand and nodded. Their gazes held, as if locked in some world neither understood, then she pulled hers away and left in search of the bar.
By the time she returned to the bathroom, Gabriel was gone. Three minutes later, she set the tumbler on the edge of the tub and sank into the water. Picking up her drink, she closed her eyes and rested her head against the cool porcelain.
And for once, her brain was blessedly quiet.