Something was strange about how Garrett was standing. He hadn’t moved since he’d flinched earlier, and his body was so stiff it was a wonder he could even blink. Pushing against Raoul’s arms, I moved in close to him and gently rubbed my thumb on the bristle on his chin.
“Are you okay?”
A whistle behind him almost had him turning around, but when he tried, he clenched his eyes shut and groaned.
“That’s some hole you’ve got there, Captain,” Dave noted. “Bleeding good and proper, too. Just to let you know that you’re in the first ambulance when it comes, but we’ve called a second one for the dude bleeding out of his calf in the woods. Once he’s loaded up, Carter’s accompanying him for treatment—or amputation, either or—and Dad’s taking Clyde back to his for a steak dinner to reward him.”
Not taking my eyes off Garrett’s, I managed to get out, “Don’t give him a sauce, just steak and potatoes, or he’ll shit everywhere.” Then, slowly, I moved around his body and looked at his back.
This time it was my turn to heave. I hadn’t thought that black would show up blood as clearly as that, but on his left shoulder was a hole in his black hoodie, with blood soaking the fabric visibly.
“You’ve been shot.”
Logan cleared his throat, chuckling, “Are we sure she should be working with kids? It doesn’t seem like she’s—” he stopped, then coughed. “I’ll be quiet.”
Fear like I hadn’t felt in two years since that day near the water hit me hard. This was worse than that. The fear I felt for my own life was nothing in comparison to how I felt about the prospect of losing Garrett.
I’d been scared for two years—scared for myself, scared for my parents, but I felt like I was suffocating with it right now.
Moving back in front of him, I felt a tear trail down my cheek as he watched me watching him. “How are you still standing?”
“Because he’s not gone right now, and I don’t trust him not to shoot again. At least this way, if anyone tries, they have to go through me first.”
Moving closer to our sides with his back facing the woods, Raoul added, “And me. He already got you, so he’s got to take me on this time.”
“Uh,” Dave drawled, moving in on the other side. “Didn’t want to feel left out, so I’ll take this side, but just to say he’s in cuffs over there and not getting out. Your dog’s seen to that. Also, just to say,” he snickered, “once notice was put out by some people, Gjorka’s friends scattered, so he’s working solo now. Apparently, people don’t see much use in being your friend when you’ve got no money to pay them because everything’s been seized. They also don’t much like it when the CIA gets involved and helps out the FBI.”
Very slowly and wincing the whole way, Garrett turned his head to look at Dave. “Are you serious?”
“Sure am. Found out at the same time Hurst said he saw Gjorka. Old fool wanted to hunt him down, but we said we’d come and help you out.”
Then, from the trees, we heard Carter yell, “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Okay, out you come.”
Looking up at the sky, Raoul sighed. “Guess he didn’t listen.”
It was as we were driving to the hospital that I leaned over Garrett. “I never got to give you an answer.”
Groaning as we hit a bump, he clenched his eyes shut. “To what?”
“Ma’am, I need you to sit back so I can—” the paramedic tried to nudge me out of the way, and all of the stress caught up with me.
“I know what you’re trying to do, but I’m trying to tell the man I love that I’m saying yes to his fucking proposal!” I screeched. “He took a bullet for me before I could say it, so don’t think I’m saying yes out of pity because he’s injured. Could you give me a fucking second to say yes?”
I felt like shit as soon as I did it, but judging by the laughter coming from him and the guy driving like a dickhead, they didn’t take any offense.
“Go ahead!”
Taking a calming breath, I smiled softly and looked back down at him, only to see Garrett laughing so hard he was crying. “Is it the laughter or the fact I’m saying yes making you cry? Swear to God, Evans, if you’re crying because you’re sad I’m accepting your proposal, I’m going to kill you.”
“It’s you screeching in a paramedic's face that you’re saying yes to a proposal and assuring him it’s not because I got shot that’s making me laugh,” he wheezed, groaning. “And it’s the pain that’s making me cry, I swear.”
Leaning back to sit my ass down, I shook my head and nodded at the paramedic to do his thing.