Execution Style (Code 11-KPD SWAT 4) - Page 54

Miller leaned forward and captured my mouth, pressing his warm lips against mine.

“I love the way your lips get soft when you cry. I love the way you look at me when I wake you up in the morning after a long day at work. I love the way you watch me drive down the street until you can’t see me anymore. What I love most of all, though, is your heart. Your will to overcome. The way you continuously face the day when most people would’ve crawled into a hole and died. My wish, for the rest of our lives, is that I can live up to the man you’ve made me out to be, and forever offer you a shoulder to rely on. I love you more, Mercy Me. To the moon and back. To infinity and beyond. I’m over the fuckin’ rainbow in love with you,” he said into the microphone that was still clutched in my hands.

“Language,” I said, placing my hand over his mouth.

The crowd that was watching us laughed, and I turned to smile at the people that were at our reception, so happy I could burst.

“Alright, there’s one last thing we have to do before we can cut the cake,” Memphis said, gesturing towards a chair that was in the back of the room.

My heart started to flutter as I knew what was about to happen. He was about to see the garter I was wearing, as were the rest of the rest of the guests.

And it proved to be fun.

He loved the garter, and the fact that nearly my entire leg was exposed wasn’t nearly as big of a deal as I made it out to be.

Although having Miller’s large shoulders wedged between my legs also had something to do with not caring.

Twenty minutes after we cut our cake and the last goodbye was said, Miller and I headed to the car while the crowd around us threw bird seed.

“You ready, Mrs. Spurlock?” Miller said, circling the garter he’d pried off my leg with his teeth around on his finger.

I blushed and dropped into the seat, laughing when he bent over me and hung the garter from his rearview mirror.

He stopped halfway out to give me a peck on the lips, then turned to wave at his friends and mine one more time.

As Miller and I drove off, and the crowd of people stood behind us, I waved, turning around in my seat to do so.

Miller smacked my ass, “Turn around and put your seatbelt on.”

It was in that moment that I saw the car come out of nowhere.

It smashed into our right side like a battering ram.

Miller threw his arm out, gathering me to him, holding on for dear life while we were thrown this way and that.

We must’ve spun no less than fifteen times, finally coming to a stop against what I assumed was another vehicle.

My head, though, was a swirl of confusion.

My eyes were open, but I wasn’t seeing anything.

Shots rang out, an engine roared. A man screamed. More shots pierced through my fog.

Even those couldn’t make me understand.

I must’ve hit my head, because when I tried to look around, all I heard was screaming.

“She’s hurt!”

“Get ‘em out!”

“She’s bleeding from her head.”

“Foster’s fucked up.”

“My baby!”

“Foster’s hurt. Bad.”

“It’s Linda.”

My thoughts finally swirled back online long enough for three thoughts to pour through me.

Oh, please don’t let Foster be hurt.

Where is Miller? Why can’t I hear Miller?

Linda! You cocksucker!***Miller

My head was pounding, but I put one foot in front of the other.

I could do no less.

My mind was a riot of emotions as I walked down the hall, leaving Mercy sleeping in her hospital bed.

She was alright, but it could’ve been worse.

She could’ve been pinned in her seat, crushed because her seatbelt wouldn’t let her move.

Had she not had her seatbelt off, she’d have been crushed.

I’d have lost both her and the baby in one fail swoop.

“Is he awake yet?” I asked Trance as he walked towards me with Viddy.

She shook her head. “Not yet. They expect it to happen anytime, though.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly. “Do you mind if we take the stairs?”

“No problem,” Viddy said, turning to the door instead of the elevators once we reached the end of the hall.

We climbed silently, both of us in our own little worlds.

I loved the hell out of Viddy. She was so intuitive, and always knew when to shut up, or talk it out.

This was one of those ‘shut up’ times; she didn’t try to get me talking like most would do.

Only walked at my side, climbing the steps, one by one, until we reached the surgical ICU.

“What room is he in?” I asked quietly.

“First door on the right. They deemed him a flight risk. He’s the furthest away from the elevators, and the closest to the nurse’s station,” Viddy explained.

“Hmmph,” I said. “That won’t keep him where he’s supposed to be. It’ll only make it easier for him to escape.”

“That’s what I told them, but the ‘nurses know best’ or, at least, that’s what the nurse I told it to, said,” Viddy explained, turning into the first room.

Trance was sitting at Foster’s side reading something on his phone.

Foster’s eyes were open, and glaring at Trance, whom I guessed, had refused to say a word as was his usual. He didn’t do conflict well, and by the look in Foster’s eyes, he knew a storm was a brewin’.

“What the fuck happened?” Foster seethed.

Trance grimaced and stood. “I think Viddy and I will…”

“Sit,” I said, pointing back at the seat. “Foster, they had to take your leg from the knee down.”

Trance didn’t sit.

He left, taking Viddy with him.

Foster stared at me like I’d grown a second head, and then jackknifed up in the bed to stare at the blanket where you could definitely see the outline of his leg missing.

“You’re telling me that I’ve made it through three tours in the goddamned sandbox,” he said softly. “Countless missions as a SEAL. And the way I lose a motherfuckin’ leg is by some royal BITCH RUNNING ME THE FUCK OVER?”

Tags: Lani Lynn Vale Code 11-KPD SWAT Erotic
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