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Eagle grimaces. “I had to take a personal call. My attention was not a hundred percent focused on the situation. Opal knew who the guy was. She froze like a deer in headlights. I saw her going down, so I ran to her before she hit the ground. The fucker sped off before I could make out a full composite, but I saw enough to make a positive ID.”
Thank fuck for that.
It doesn’t take a genius to see this upsets Eagle. He hadn’t been paying full attention at the time of the incident, but it wasn’t his fault. We aren’t robots set to be on defense, especially on our home turf. This wasn’t an assignment where we prepared for everything. We’re allowed to take personal calls. We have lives outside of club business.
Besides, Eagle wasn’t Opal’s bodyguard for the day—I was. He did me a service by spotting her walking away from headquarters without a chaperone. I’m relieved he was with her. The fuck all knows what would’ve happened if he hadn’t been present.
This is on me, not Eagle, and I should’ve been there with her.
“You did good, Eagle,” I reassure. “No one could have done better given the situation. Thank you for being there for her.”
Eagle gives a stiff nod. He’s still disappointed with himself, but he has given us something to work with, which is a hell of a lot more than what we previously had.
“Did you get a good look at the car?”
“Yes.”
“Go give the details to Chase’s team. It’ll help them pinpoint it on surveillance.”
“Sure thing,” he says, turning to head back into Chase’s tech lair.
There’s a gasp from the couch. I turn in time to see Flay removing an ammonia packet from under Opal’s pert nose. She coughs as she sits upright, her eyes wide with alarm.
“Hey. I got you. Calm down.” I run my hand over her hair, holding her close to me. “You’re safe.”
Opal shakes against me, clutching onto my cut so hard her knuckles turn white.
“Talk to me, Opal,” I beg in as soothing a tone as I can muster. “I need to hear your voice.”
But Opal doesn’t speak—not a word. Her pale skin has turned an unhealthy shade of gray.
“Breathe, Opal,” Flay orders, tapping her firmly on her back with his open palm.
Opal gasps before turning away, vomiting on the floor. Flay narrowly avoids getting hit.
“What’s wrong with her?” I ask, more scared than I’ve ever been before.
Flay gently pries her from my arms, reclining her on the couch. “Her body is going through shock. We need to make her comfortable to help settle her down.” He grabs a throw off the back of the couch, covering Opal. “Grab a bucket and mop.”
Stage runs to get the cleaning supplies since I’m not leaving Opal’s side. I take them from him once he returns, cleaning the mess. As I work, I watch Flay examine her. There may have been a time I thought Flay had a thing for Opal, but I know that’s in the past. He genuinely cares about her like he does the rest of the family.
He checks her vitals with a furrowed brow. “Her heartbeat is still irregular, but evening out. She needs rest. I don’t want to move her upstairs until her vitals have regulated.”
“What do I do?”
“Stay with her. Reassure her with your words.” He picks up his medical bag and steps away, giving me room to sit next to where she lies on the couch.
My emotions are all over the board, but I keep them in check. Opal needs me.
* * *
An hour passes before Flay gives the okay to move Opal upstairs. I refuse to let her walk, in case she’s still lightheaded, carrying her to our suite instead. Opal doesn’t make a sound as I transfer her to our room. I set her on the bed and crawl in next to her, facing her to assess her.
“I won’t let anything happen to you, Opal,” I murmur, tucking an errant strand of her rainbow hair behind her ear.
Opal stares vacantly at my chest, tears slipping out of the corners of her eyes.
“We’ll find him. You’ll never have to worry about him again, I promise.”
