Maya Banks - Whispers in the Dark

Nathan gathered Shea in his arms and pressed his lips to her cool forehead. Everything that mattered was in his arms. Dying, because she was hell-bent on saving him. Tears burned his eyelids and he bit his lip to hold them at bay as he silently begged her to come back to him.

I’m here, baby. Right here, holding you. I’m okay. Can you feel me, Shea? Can you feel how much I love you? Fight your way back to me. Do it for me. Do it for us. I want forever with you.

He stroked his fingers down the side of her face and followed them with gentle kisses. He completely ignored Donovan, who knelt in front of them and placed his hands over Shea’s side to slow the steady flow of blood.

Nathan pressed his forehead to hers. Feel me, Shea. Feel my love. Hear me. Come back to me. You’ve got to break away. You’ve got to give yourself a chance to heal. I can’t lose you, baby. You’re so determined to protect me and to save me. Then goddamn it, come back to me. I’m not dying and you’re damn sure not going to die for me. If you’re so determined to shield me, then you better goddamn well snap out of it because you’ll do a piss-poor job of it in your grave.

Nathan.

There it was. The faintest whisper in his mind, but he heard it. More than that, he felt it. His grip tightened around her and he could no longer hold back the tears.

I’m here, baby. I’m here. I’m okay. I swear it. I’ll be fine. Break off from me and talk to me out loud. You’re scaring the shit out of everyone. Give me back the pain, Shea. It’s time you let someone take care of you for a change.

She blinked. Just once, but the cloudiness left her eyes and she stared up at him in confusion as if she couldn’t quite comprehend that he was there.

“Nathan,” she whispered aloud.

“Yes, baby. It’s me,” he choked out. “Now let go. Let go and let yourself heal.”

She took a deep shuddering breath, her features creased with all the pain she’d been shouldering. And then just as quickly, fire licked up his side. It took everything he had not to react. To sit there like he didn’t feel a thing. He knew if he so much as flinched, that she’d be back, shielding him, taking it so he didn’t have to.

Donovan slid onto the seat beside him, and before Nathan realized what he was doing, he plunged a needle into his arm.

“Painkiller,” Donovan murmured low so only Nathan could hear. “I know it hurts, man, and I know you don’t want her to know. If you start to go out, I’ll take her.”

Like hell that would happen.

Some of the tension that had knitted her brow eased and relief was stark in her eyes. Joe took Donovan’s place in front of Shea and carefully peeled back the blood-soaked shirt so he could ascertain how much if any she still bled.

The others who’d hung back and remained silent during the entire flight leaned forward, their expressions ones of astonishment as Shea’s side slowly began to return to normal.

Nathan knew it would take longer this time, but he was content that at least the bleeding had slowed and that she was no longer bearing the agony in his stead.

His jaw was tight as he battled the burn in his side. The medicine Donovan had injected was already starting to take hold, though, and wooziness stole over him, leaving him heavy and lethargic.

“How are you feeling now, Shea?” Joe asked gently.

She slowly turned to look at Nathan’s twin. She licked her lips and attempted to smile, but she seemed far too tired to actually pull it off.

Her brow furrowed as she seemed to give his question a lot of consideration. Finally she sighed. “I don’t know.”

Some of the dullness had returned to her eyes and that worried Nathan. It was as if she’d gathered the last of her strength in her effort to help him and then to crawl back when he’d begged her to let go.

Exhaustion. He could feel her exhaustion and her confusion beating at her in relentless waves. She looked to each of the occupants of the helicopter but there was no recognition in her eyes, even though Nathan knew she knew who they were.

She turned her face into his chest and whispered so low that he couldn’t hear what she said. He leaned down close and gently touched her cheek.

“What did you say, baby?”

She shifted just enough that her mouth was visible and she whispered, “Promise me you’re okay. Promise.”

He kissed her because at that precise moment he was too choked up to get out even the simplest of words. He sucked in ragged breaths and closed his eyes. He laid his cheek against hers and whispered close to her ear, “I’m never leaving you, Shea.”

“WHATam I going to do about Shea?” Nathan asked as he sat on the edge of the exam table waiting his discharge.

His side hurt like a bitch, but the knife hadn’t struck anything vital and had only penetrated two inches. The doctor had wryly told him that a higher being had guided the blade because it had every opportunity to strike a vital organ but had slipped past without so much as scratching anything but fatty tissue and muscle.

He’d been stitched up, but he’d refused more pain medication. If it got bad later, Donovan could fix him up. For now he needed a clear head because Shea needed help, but they didn’t dare expose her to further scrutiny.

“I’ve called Maren,” Sam said in a low voice. “Joe’s with Shea now. As soon as you get out of here, we’re going to fly Shea to see Maren.”

“We’re taking her to fucking Costa Rica?” Nathan demanded.

Maren Scofield was a doctor KGI had rescued from Africa a few years back. She’d been instrumental in Rachel’s rescue or at least her recovery. She was someone KGI trusted and a damn good doctor. But the last Nathan had heard, she was still in Costa Rica. Not ideal. He wanted Shea home, not in fucking Central America.

“No. I’ve asked Maren to come to Tennessee. We’re taking Shea home and Maren will meet us there,” Sam replied.

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?” Nathan hopped off the bed and started for the door. Pain jolted through his side, momentarily robbing him of breath. He stopped to steady himself and breathed away the rising nausea.

Sam made a grab for his arm. “You can wait a few more minutes to get your discharge paperwork. You’ll need the prescriptions and you’re going to take the meds or I’ll shove them down your throat. Shea needs you.”

“Yeah, I might have been a little hasty on that get the hell out of here,” Nathan gritted out.

“Let them give you the goddamn injection,” Sam snapped. “You’ve got to remain calm and pain free or Shea’s going to pick up on that and start taking it for you.”

“You’re right, you’re right. Look, let’s just get out of here. Van can give me an injection. I won’t argue. I’ll do exactly what he tells me, I swear, but let’s get the fuck out of here. I want to get back to Shea.”

They were interrupted by the nurse walking back in. She handed Nathan a clipboard and pointed to the places she wanted him to sign and then she handed him the prescriptions. She didn’t act particularly friendly and she beat a hasty retreat, but then Nathan supposed she likely thought they were some kind of criminals.

At least Resnick had kept the local cops out of the picture. The asshole did have his uses.

“Let’s go,” Sam said. “And you better take it easy. They’re waiting at the airport. The jet just touched down a few minutes ago, so as soon as we get there, we’re on our way home.”

Surely there wasn’t a better word in the world. Despite Sam’s order to take it easy, Nathan walked as fast as he could down the corridor and out the emergency exit to the parking lot, where one of the SUVs was parked.