A Perfect Storm
Page 119
More blood had trickled from her wrists, snaking down between her fingers, going under her nails. It looked really gross and made her want to groan.
“All superficial, I promise. I just nicked myself a few times while getting free.” She didn’t know what to do with her bloody hands, but then Spencer followed Jackson’s lead and pulled off his shirt. He ripped it cleanly in half with little effort.
Arizona stared at how the bulletproof vest fit him. It fastened with wide strips of Velcro just under his pecs and over his abs. His muscled shoulders flexed as he took her hand.
“Trace insisted,” Spencer said, explaining the vest. “I had other things on my mind.”
“Yeah, like…?” Hopeful, she waited, her breath held.
He smoothed the strips of cotton around her left wrist, down and around her palm. “Getting to you.” He lifted her other hand and, in hoarse tones, said, “That’s all I could think of.”
She’d scared him? Well, yeah, of course she had. Spencer cared for everyone, and from the day she’d met him, he’d been trying to keep her safe. “Sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.” He’d just finished wrapping her hands when they heard the police sirens. “What now?”
She turned to see Quinto leaning on the wall, his eyes closed, his entire demeanor waning. “He’s got to eat,” she told Spencer, trying to think of his most immediate needs. “And he needs to see his sister. And rest. And—”
Trace put a hand to her shoulder. “I’ll see to it.”
Since she hadn’t heard him come in, she jumped.
After studying her eyes, he gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You did good, Arizona, but even the best soldier knows when to retreat.”
Her face went hot, and she mumbled, actually mumbled, “I’m not a soldier.”
“No, but you are doggedly persistent, intuitive and capable.” He drew her forward to kiss her brow. “Now, how about you put Spencer out of his misery by sitting down until the ambulance gets here?”
Put him out of his misery? She eyed Spencer’s expression and frowned. Yeah, he did look pretty miserable.
And it was her fault. She didn’t need guilt on top of a splitting head.
Jackson said without looking back, “He’s giving you the deference you want, doll. Accept it with good grace.”
“You can both leave her the hell alone.” His mood growing blacker by the moment, Spencer put his arm around her. “Come on. Let me take you outside for some fresh air. We’ll wait for the ambulance.”
“Yeah, okay.” She went along willingly, doing her utmost not to wince over the excruciating pain in her noggin. “I really do feel like crap.”
He started to say something, but then they stepped outside and into the growing crowd. Police, task force, locals…they combined to make quite an audience.
Chaos consumed them. Paramedics rushed inside to see to Joel and to the man Dare had shot. Other EMTs came to look her over and, after a cursory exam, insisted that Spencer was right, and she needed to go to the hospital.
“Great,” she grumbled. “Just freakin’ great.”
Spencer bent to kiss her brow. “I’ll be right behind you. You aren’t going to get away from me again.”
And that confused her enough that she didn’t complain as she got loaded into an ambulance, and it drove off for the hospital.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SPENCER SAT IN A PLASTIC CHAIR, coffee cooling in front of him, Jackson pacing back and forth around him.
Dare and Trace were busy wrapping up everything with Quin and Joel—because they insisted on it, and even the official in charge of the elite task force didn’t try to dissuade them.
They would, supposedly, keep a low profile—if you could call maiming guards and shooting a thug in the chest a low profile. But they would also ensure that it was handled to their satisfaction.
Always.
They had such power—and Arizona was now a part of that.
They wanted him to be a part of it, too. It’d mean relocating for the sake of anonymity. It’d mean starting over, burying the past for good.
Moving on with his life.
Moving on with Arizona…if she’d have him.
Spencer rubbed his face. Arizona had only been away from them for an hour or so—long enough for the docs to examine her and run some tests—but it still worried him.
Knowing her, she could sneak out. Again.
She could refuse medical attention. She wasn’t dumb, but she did seem to think herself invincible.
Or disposable.
She could—
“Stop it, damn it.” Harried, his blond hair standing on end, Jackson snarled, “You’re stressing me out.”
Slowly lifting his brows, Spencer looked up at Jackson. “I haven’t done a thing.”
“You’re brooding.” Jackson dropped down beside him, his mood black, his expression fierce. “Jesus, what is taking so long?”
Spencer eyed him with disgust. “You’re going to be miserable when Alani gives birth. You know that, right?”
“Just…shut up.” He got up to pace again.
Spencer joined him.
“If she was a guy…” Jackson said.
That deserved a short laugh. “Then I probably wouldn’t be here.”
“Well…yeah.” He suddenly grinned. “She really proved herself, didn’t she?”
“I’m thinking that was the point.”
“All superficial, I promise. I just nicked myself a few times while getting free.” She didn’t know what to do with her bloody hands, but then Spencer followed Jackson’s lead and pulled off his shirt. He ripped it cleanly in half with little effort.
Arizona stared at how the bulletproof vest fit him. It fastened with wide strips of Velcro just under his pecs and over his abs. His muscled shoulders flexed as he took her hand.
“Trace insisted,” Spencer said, explaining the vest. “I had other things on my mind.”
“Yeah, like…?” Hopeful, she waited, her breath held.
He smoothed the strips of cotton around her left wrist, down and around her palm. “Getting to you.” He lifted her other hand and, in hoarse tones, said, “That’s all I could think of.”
She’d scared him? Well, yeah, of course she had. Spencer cared for everyone, and from the day she’d met him, he’d been trying to keep her safe. “Sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.” He’d just finished wrapping her hands when they heard the police sirens. “What now?”
She turned to see Quinto leaning on the wall, his eyes closed, his entire demeanor waning. “He’s got to eat,” she told Spencer, trying to think of his most immediate needs. “And he needs to see his sister. And rest. And—”
Trace put a hand to her shoulder. “I’ll see to it.”
Since she hadn’t heard him come in, she jumped.
After studying her eyes, he gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You did good, Arizona, but even the best soldier knows when to retreat.”
Her face went hot, and she mumbled, actually mumbled, “I’m not a soldier.”
“No, but you are doggedly persistent, intuitive and capable.” He drew her forward to kiss her brow. “Now, how about you put Spencer out of his misery by sitting down until the ambulance gets here?”
Put him out of his misery? She eyed Spencer’s expression and frowned. Yeah, he did look pretty miserable.
And it was her fault. She didn’t need guilt on top of a splitting head.
Jackson said without looking back, “He’s giving you the deference you want, doll. Accept it with good grace.”
“You can both leave her the hell alone.” His mood growing blacker by the moment, Spencer put his arm around her. “Come on. Let me take you outside for some fresh air. We’ll wait for the ambulance.”
“Yeah, okay.” She went along willingly, doing her utmost not to wince over the excruciating pain in her noggin. “I really do feel like crap.”
He started to say something, but then they stepped outside and into the growing crowd. Police, task force, locals…they combined to make quite an audience.
Chaos consumed them. Paramedics rushed inside to see to Joel and to the man Dare had shot. Other EMTs came to look her over and, after a cursory exam, insisted that Spencer was right, and she needed to go to the hospital.
“Great,” she grumbled. “Just freakin’ great.”
Spencer bent to kiss her brow. “I’ll be right behind you. You aren’t going to get away from me again.”
And that confused her enough that she didn’t complain as she got loaded into an ambulance, and it drove off for the hospital.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
SPENCER SAT IN A PLASTIC CHAIR, coffee cooling in front of him, Jackson pacing back and forth around him.
Dare and Trace were busy wrapping up everything with Quin and Joel—because they insisted on it, and even the official in charge of the elite task force didn’t try to dissuade them.
They would, supposedly, keep a low profile—if you could call maiming guards and shooting a thug in the chest a low profile. But they would also ensure that it was handled to their satisfaction.
Always.
They had such power—and Arizona was now a part of that.
They wanted him to be a part of it, too. It’d mean relocating for the sake of anonymity. It’d mean starting over, burying the past for good.
Moving on with his life.
Moving on with Arizona…if she’d have him.
Spencer rubbed his face. Arizona had only been away from them for an hour or so—long enough for the docs to examine her and run some tests—but it still worried him.
Knowing her, she could sneak out. Again.
She could refuse medical attention. She wasn’t dumb, but she did seem to think herself invincible.
Or disposable.
She could—
“Stop it, damn it.” Harried, his blond hair standing on end, Jackson snarled, “You’re stressing me out.”
Slowly lifting his brows, Spencer looked up at Jackson. “I haven’t done a thing.”
“You’re brooding.” Jackson dropped down beside him, his mood black, his expression fierce. “Jesus, what is taking so long?”
Spencer eyed him with disgust. “You’re going to be miserable when Alani gives birth. You know that, right?”
“Just…shut up.” He got up to pace again.
Spencer joined him.
“If she was a guy…” Jackson said.
That deserved a short laugh. “Then I probably wouldn’t be here.”
“Well…yeah.” He suddenly grinned. “She really proved herself, didn’t she?”
“I’m thinking that was the point.”
