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“It’s best if you don’t stay here with us,” I told him as I laid her down.
Diana’s head rolled to the side. Her dry skin and lips were starved of adequate hydration, and I had to swallow the rage bubbling up inside me at the sight of her arms sliding lifeless to the bed. I’d already killed almost everyone who’d gone near her today, but I was itching to remove their limbs one by one.
“If you can point us to your medical supplies, then head over to your church and close up for the day, that’d be helpful,” Griffin said, speaking for me as I finally took in the full extent of Diana’s situation.
She was so pale, and even in sleep I could see her exhaustion. The hollowness under her eyes, her shallow breathing, the lack of resistance in her limbs gutted me. What if there were other injuries not visible to the eye? What if they . . .? I shut down that thought immediately before the priest dipped into my mind and discovered me visualizing murdering a half a dozen people. Could he see my thoughts? Or was that just God?
Dallas jumped onto the bed and curled up next to Diana, setting his head on her abdomen.
I subtly cleared my throat, pushing thoughts of vengeance to the back of my mind, and faced the others in the room as the priest shared, “There’s a box of clothes in the office from the clothing drive we had last week. There might be something she can wear.”
“Thank you.” It was a kind gesture, and soothed some of the suspicion and worry that he was about to toss us out or turn us in. We wouldn’t need clothes from him, though. Diana’s mother had provided some of her things before we’d flown out. But that bag was in the SUV with Teddy and the others. So, maybe . . .
The priest stepped before me, and I went still as he removed a large silver crucifix from around his neck. “Something tells me you need this more than I do.” He gestured for me to bow my head. Unsure what I was doing, I did as he asked, allowing him to place the necklace on me.
Going from a rifle across my body earlier to now a cross—not how I’d expected my morning to go. I closed my palm around the crucifix. “I don’t need this.”
“You do, my son.” He patted my chest and gave me a nod, the warning not to argue coming across loud and clear. “The church can use the money, though. It’ll help a lot of people.” He accepted the bag from Griffin, then motioned for him to follow him out. “I’ll take you to where I keep my medical supplies.”
With Easton hovering by the doorway, I instructed, “Take the car and check in with the others. See where they’re at with intel gathering and helping those people get free.”
“You sure you don’t want backup here just in case?” Easton asked, studying me closely.
Realizing I was still gripping the crucifix inside my fist, I let it go. For whatever reason, the necklace both weighed me down and grounded me at the same time. “We’ll be fine. I’ll work on getting us a new location to go to next. I still have a friend or two in this part of the world.” Well, friend was a loose term for assholes who thought I was also an asshole, but they loved the smell of money more than anything, and I reeked of that. “Go,” I insisted. “Call me the second you have news. I’ll reach out to POTUS to inform him the package is secure.”
That “package” softly whimpered, and I turned toward her as she stirred. Dallas lifted his head and licked her cheek before returning his head to her stomach.
“Be in touch,” Easton said on his way out. I nodded, unable to rip my eyes away from the sight of my best friend curled up next to the woman I’d been fantasizing about for months.
She’s safe. I had to keep reminding myself of that. The plan worked. Alyona came through, and now?—
“He had a banana bag. Shocking but good news,” Griffin said on the move, joining us again. He set a few things on the nightstand by the bed, then busied himself with setting up the portable IV for her.
Dallas appeared to have no plans to go anywhere. You’re trying to claim her as yours, huh, boy? The little mind reader lifted his head and gave me a light howl before snuggling up next to her again.
“You should get these wounds cleaned, too. Check her for other injuries,” he said once he had the IV started. “It’s a bit wild we’re rescuing her again, don’t you think?”
“There’s something I should probably tell you.” Unholstering my sidearm and setting it by the other medical supplies, I sat at the edge of the narrow bed. There wasn’t much room for me with Dallas hogging the rest of the space, but I needed to be as close to her as possible. “Diana didn’t just work for Rebecca’s old company. She knew Rebecca. Came to the house for a Christmas party. And to the funeral. Rebecca even babysat her when she was a kid. Crazy, right?” I did my best to play off my words as no big deal.
He cocked a brow. “You’re just telling me this?”
“Wasn’t relevant before.”
A smirk came and went. “But it is now?”
Ignoring him, I ordered, “Just go call Gray.” Resting my hand on her denim-clad leg, I noticed a rip over the knee. “Have him tell POTUS we have her and we’ll be in touch soon. I’m sure her mom wants to see her alive on screen with her own eyes.”
“Let me do a quick perimeter check first, then I’ll make the calls.”
Good idea. I should’ve thought of that. I waited for Griffin to leave, and at the sound of the door clicking closed, I scooted a bit closer to check her wounds.
I used the small, wet hand towel Griffin had left behind to pat at the blood on her right elbow, then moved on to the blood at the back of her left hand. Checking the tear in her jeans next, I found a bad cut there. I ripped the material back to give me better access to her knee and sanitized that wound.
Dallas lifted his head and began yelping, which was more like his version of cry-singing.
“She can’t be ours. I know what you’re thinking, but she can’t be.” It was ridiculous how much my heart hurt saying that. Dallas clearly felt the same, because he groaned in disapproval. “Lift your head, I need to check her stomach and back.”
He didn’t budge. So stubborn.
