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I feel a sharp pain in my head, and my vision blurs for a moment. I don’t want Bailey here, but I’m not trained like she is. Understanding my needs, Emilie dials Bai’s number without me prompting her. The sound of a phone ringing fills the room, and after a few moments, she picks up.
“Blake, everything okay?” She always seems to pick up on my emotions, no matter how far apart we are.
“Bai, I need you to come to Caleb Preston’s mansion.” Scott gasps loudly, causing me to shoot him a disapproving glare. “Tim has been shot. I can use pressure to try to slow the bleeding, but the bullet is lodged too deeply in his shoulder for me to remove.” I hear muffled sounds in the background, which tells me she went into a quiet place.
“Okay, okay. How deep is it? Can you see an exit wound?”
I give Tim an apologetic look and request the guys to elevate him slightly.
“No, the bullet is still inside.”
The sound of her cursing rings in my ears. “I’m assuming you have alcohol and towels with you? So, keep putting constant pressure on it until I get there. I’ll be there in 10.” And with that, she hangs up.
I spent years helping her prepare for her exams so she knows I have a solid foundation. As I pour the alcohol into the wound, Tim screams in pain and tries to move, which makes the task difficult.
“I need you to keep him steady,” I say to no one in particular.
I apply pressure to his wound with the towel, feeling the warmth of his blood seeping through the fabric. Aidan’s glare is so intense that I can practically feel the heat emanating from it on my back. I’ll fight with him later. As the main door creaks open, Bailey emerges, clad in her scrubs, after what feels like an eternity. I know she had to leave her shift at the hospital to come here, and I’m grateful for it since I’m not a prodigy doctor like she is.
“What happened?” she asks. Maybe she’ll get more information out of them than I did.
“We were on a mission when he got shot. He lost consciousness in the car. He got shot about an hour ago,” Aidan says, running his fingers through his messy hair. Bai, Em, and I turn to face him at the same time.
“An hour? And you just brought him here now?” Bailey shouts.
Fuck, they were in Linlithgow, that is why it took them that long to get back. She swiftly moves towards me, taking my place without a word.
“He passed out five minutes ago,” I inform her. She nods in silence, her eyes fixed on the wound.
“You did a good job. I’ll need some space to work on him. You can stay, but I need everyone else out of here.”
“I’ll leave you alone so you can focus, but I’ll have them leave a couple guys in here so you aren’t alone if he wakes up. He is a hell of a beast, and you won’t be able to contain him by yourself if he wakes up in pain.”
Aidan instinctively requests two guys to stay with them before I ask.
I can feel the stickiness of blood all over my clothes. My eyes catch sight of my brother in the distance, and I dash towards him, feeling an immense sense of relief as I finally wrap my arms around him.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” I can’t stop touching his face.
“I’m good. There were more guards than we expected.”
The tension in the room is palpable as Em prepares to let him have it. Good. Maybe he will learn not to put himself in danger unprepared. I pivot towards Aidan and deliver a swift blow to his stomach. Caught off guard by the sudden impact, he doubles over in pain and clutches his abdomen.
“What the hell were you thinking? You all could have died.” I can’t stop shouting at him. My hands are shaking uncontrollably. You don’t go un-fucking-prepared. He swiftly blocks my next punch and pulls me into a protective embrace.
“We’re good,” he whispers in my hair.
“No, you’re not. Tim could have died. He was shot. You are not good.” I feel like I’m suffocating, my breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.
“Tim will be fine. We are fine. I am fine.”
It’s as if he can read my emotions without even trying. As his grip tightens, I notice the roughness of his calloused hands and his body’s warm, comforting scent. It’s a mix of sweat and blood, but his heart is beating. It is beating.
I hate the guy. Why am I trembling at the thought of him getting shot instead of Tim? Because you don’t really hate him. Damn you, heart. I can feel his breath on the nape of my neck, and the way he holds me so close sends shivers through my body. The sudden interruption of my phone brings me back to reality. As I pull away from him, I hear him groan in disappointment. My hands are covered in Tim’s blood. I need to go wash it off. I fish out my phone from my pocket and walk a few steps away to take the call.
“Cailean? What the hell happened?” I ask him.
“Several vans came out of nowhere. It was not the Snakes.”
