Red on the River - Page 50

The pain had to be sawing at him, but he was stoic as she gave him a shot of antibiotics and then took her time cleaning and sewing the wound. She was meticulous, making certain the bullet hadn’t nicked anything vital. He would be feeling this one for a long time, but he’d recover. He was lucky.

“Were you worried about us returning the truck?”

“I had a bad feeling. When I get bad feelings, I pay attention to them,” Rainier said.

“Was that before or after you dropped off the truck?” she asked, more to distract him than for any other reason. He was holding still as she took those small little stitches in the back of his thigh, but she felt the tremors in his body. She’d tried to numb the wound, but she didn’t have anything that was really adequate to numb the entire injury. She felt a little as if she were torturing him.

There was a small silence. He wiped his forehead on the pillow. “A while after. It didn’t seem as if it would be a big deal to ask you to take the truck back for us. As time went by, I had second thoughts about you going anywhere near that truck. Any of you women going near the truck.”

“That’s so interesting that you didn’t feel any alarm right away.” It actually was. “Did you see who shot you?”

“Three of Daniel Wallin’s security guards tailed us when we left the hotel. We didn’t want them to make their try with civilians around, so Zale, who was driving, led them into the desert. He acted as if he were making a run for it. We didn’t want them to shoot into the truck, so we got far enough ahead to get out and acted like we were looking for a place to hide in the boulders out in the desert. There was a narrow passage where they would have had to come at us one at a time. We’d scouted it out a few days earlier as one of the places we might use if necessary.”

That fascinated her. She planned ahead for every type of rescue situation she could think of and went over and over it with her crew. She had the gear, knew the terrain, and each member knew exactly what they were responsible for if they were ever in the situation. Apparently, the missions Rainier and Zale planned were similar in that they planned ahead for every contingency.

“What went wrong?” She was nearly finished. A good thing. He was a big man with a lot of muscle, and he needed stitches inside as well as out, just as Zale had on his bicep. She hadn’t realized how sore her arms were. She still had to check Zale’s injuries and make certain he didn’t need to be sewn up.

“A couple of their buddies followed in a second car. They came over the rocks instead of straight at us.”

“Five of them?” Vienna straightened wearily and shook out her arms. Rainier was older than Zale. Not by much, but he was still older and he hadn’t slowed down at all. According to Zale, Rainier was used to working alone. It was abundantly clear he was an authority and didn’t take orders. He was used to giving them.

“We’re alive, Vienna. Zale is alive. That’s how the game works.”

She gathered up the bloody bandages, dragging everything into a bag and then peeling off her gloves. “That’s just it, Rainier. It isn’t a game. Zale’s asking me to commit my life to his. If he wants that, he can’t treat his work as if it’s some kind of game, because if you lose, it’s permanent, isn’t it?” She didn’t look at him, she just took her medical kit, the used instruments and the bag of garbage to dispose of properly as she left the room.

The moment she entered the large living room, she felt everyone’s eyes on her. Shabina was no longer sitting on the floor. She’d gone into the kitchen with Zahra. Vienna could see them easily through the large, open archways. The equipment had been put away, other than Shabina’s, which was sitting against the wall just outside the room Vienna had been treating Rainier in. Zale narrowed his eyes, his gaze jumping to hers, but she ignored him and went straight to the guest bath to wash her hands.

Every single bone in her body ached. She wondered if Raine and Shabina felt the same way. When she emerged, Raine had curled up in one of the more comfortable chairs in the living room, but she didn’t have her ever-present computer on her lap, which worried Vienna. She went to her.

“How are you feeling, honey?”

Raine looked up and gave her a wan smile. “My head is killing me. You know I tend to get migraines sometimes, and right now one is pushing at me.” She glanced at Stella, who was carrying on an animated conversation with Harlow as they mixed a large salad together. “I’m not going to ruin Stella’s bridal party. She never asks for anything.”

“You need to go lie down. I know you have medication for that. We have a day tomorrow to do nothing but relax before we go kayaking. If you take care of it now, that gives you plenty of time for it to go away.”

“I thought I should eat before I take the meds. They’re heavy duty, but I’m feeling sick.”

Instant alarm bells went off. “You could have a concussion. We should take you to the hospital as a precaution, Raine.”

She glanced over her shoulder. Rainier was back in the room, seated in a chair where he could watch those working in the kitchen as well as Raine, the front entrance and anyone moving around through most of the open floor plan. Both men were listening to her conversation with Raine.

“What happened, Vienna?” Zale demanded. This time he used that low, commanding, no-nonsense purr. He wanted to know, and he expected her to tell him. “Raine is obviously injured. I can see that you’re hurt.”

“And so is Shabina,” Rainier added. “Just like you, she’s moving gingerly. And when she came in, she was very distraught. All of you were, but she’s very controlled. She acted out of character.”

Shabina looked up swiftly from where she was preparing the meal in the Instant Pot. Her eyes met his. Shabina had unusually colored blue eyes. Right now, liquid made them even more royal blue than usual. Her long lashes feathered down, covering the brightness, and she looked down again.

Vienna wanted to strangle Rainier and his cold observations. “Don’t think you know us because you read about us in some report,” she snapped. She did hurt all over. She was at her limit trying to be nice to the two of them. “Zale, how bad is your wound, and tell me the truth. Don’t be stoic, because I’m not in the mood.”

“I told you I took care of it, and I did.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Snowflake, tell us what happened.”

“Whoever tried to kill you kept coming after you. They rigged your truck,” she said tersely, and turned her back on him. “Raine, are you certain you don’t need to go to the hospital?”

“No, I don’t have a concussion. I wasn’t feeling sick until the headache started becoming worse. I have all the signs of one of my migraines. I’ll take the meds to stop it. It’s just missing out on Shabina’s cooking.” She gave an exaggerated sigh.

Shabina glanced up with a small smile and continued her prep.

“Rigged the truck how?” Zale persisted.

“No brakes, no steering, lights going out. Pretty much making certain if you were driving the speed limit you were going to get in a nasty accident. We crashed. Fortunately, we weren’t going very fast. As it was, we didn’t roll the truck. The airbags didn’t deploy either. Raine and Shabina were with me. Stella and the others were behind us. We’d alerted them to back off when we realized something was wrong.”

There was a long silence. Vienna knew Zale willed her to look at him, but she refused, instead once more examining Raine’s face. There was bruising around the cut. “Harlow did a good job with the butterfly stitches.”

“Where’s the truck?” Zale asked. “We need to have someone take care of it. Your fingerprints are in that truck, Vienna.”

Tags: Christine Feehan Romance
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