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Fitz passed the doctor in the doorway, clapping his hands together and grinning at me. Any sign of the limp I’d thought I’d seen was gone and he was strolling casually up to the bed. “Alright, now that we got this pitstop out of the way, let’s get you to Jersey, baby!”
I looked from him to an increasingly irritated Decker. “Did they do a brain transplant on him? He sounds like Jack.”
“No, he’s high on painkillers and getting more annoying by the second. He does sound like Kasey, and I can only handleoneJack Kasey.”
“Hey, you’re not the one who got shot!”
I gasped and looked over to Fitz noticing his pants had been replaced with a pair of scrubs making his suited top half look ridiculous. Before I could begin a barrage of questions Decker held a halting hand up to me.
“It was a graze, and he wouldn’t have even been this doped up if he hadn’t grabbed for the nurse to stop her and scared her into doubling the dose.”
“I do not like mind altering substances,” Fitz said with a dopey smile at me. “I prefer to be clear headed!” He put his hands on his hips and immediately looked stricken. Patting himself around the waist he began lifting his shirt up, giving me a lovely view of the chiseled muscle carved into his abdomen. “Where is my gun?” He continued to pat himself down until Decker stopped all movement by placing his hands on the other man’s shoulders forcing eye contact.
“I already told you that I have your gun. I don’t want you accidentally shooting yourself, dumbass.”
Brianna, the nurse, was back in the room and both men returned to their professionalism. Well, Decker did. Fitz looked more like he was auditioning to be one of those guards at Buckingham Palace. Luckily she was all business as she ran down the discharge paperwork before we were free to go.
CHAPTER 18
DECKER
Ihad been trying to deal with all the little fires left behind by our latest confrontation with The Wraith. Three wrecked cars of my own, countless other cars being damaged by the explosion in the middle of a freeway during mid-morning rush hour. And of course, my fallen men. Reese Daniels and Alex Lambert had been with me since the beginning of the damn company. Hand picked out of MIT by Kasey, they’d been more than just employees. They were friends. I had struggled with the fact that I’d have to inform their families until Kasey had asked to be the one to do it.
“I brought them into this. I’ll bring home the news.” Though his tone had been even, it held no emotion and that let me know that my friend was taking it just as hard as the rest of us. Including Lake.
I could remember the shine of sorrow in her eyes when I’d told her who had been in the SUV in front of us. She’d known who they were. She’d learned all the men’s names who had surrounded her. She’d had endless talking points with all of them, and in the weeks I’d watched her around them, I’d known that my men had fallen for her charm. Before I spent time with Lake, I would have assumed her ability to recall talking points with each person was simply a skill developed through fake politeness and expectations around her father’s acquaintances.
But I’d chanced a look over her shoulder one afternoon after she’d let Daniels go on about some vast Bigfoot conspiracy, and there she sat, earbuds in, watching a playlist of YouTube videos about the conspiracy in question. The day after, they’d been huddled together over his lunch talking in animated whispers like they were plotting a coup. I could see by the emotions playing along her features that she wasn’t feigning interest for the sake of polite conversation.
Thinking of her reaction to the death of two of my men, I was immediately shot back to the conversation with that piece of shit, Dominic Parker. I’d sized the man up quickly as he’d strolled into the room like he owned the entire hospital. His black hair was slicked into a pompadour, freshly shaved face, and beady dark eyes that narrowed in on Lake, like a predator finally spotting its prey. Somewhere around 6’, he’d probably have towered over the woman in her bed if I hadn’t been there to stop his approach to her.
The open hostility radiating from one person to the other was almost tangible, and I’d been about to escort the man out myself until Parker had asked for a word with me and sauntered out of the room. It took less than 60 seconds before I had been ready to wrap my hand around Dominic Parker’s throat and squeeze.
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t fire you,” his tone held a sense of superiority that would do nothing more than earn himself his own room here in the hospital.
“Excuse me?” It was asked through gritted teeth and a quickly dwindling patience.
Dominic glared petulantly, and when a slow growl rumbled in my chest, the other man took a step back, eyes widening slightly as if he’d finally realized his entitlement had a limit. “So far, under your protection, Lake,” he spat the name with obvious disgust, causing me to bristle with rage and a fierce need to kill anyone who even thought about her wrong. “Lake,” he repeated as if he was still practicing saying her name without emotion, “has been stalked, toyed with, and barely managed to avoid being blown up or shot by an assassin.” He scoffed at the last word. “An actual assassin.” Shaking his head, he returned his rat-like stare to me. “What good are you?”
Eating up the small distance between us, I learned down into Parker’s face. Before I could even utter a word, my attention snapped to the small nurse heading toward Lake’s door, trying to avoid looking at our confrontation. She’d been the one handling most of her care, and hadn’t batted an eye when the entire floor of the hospital was relocated to keep this particular one locked down. She had also been the one using my first name since I’d introduced myself. She was pretty enough, medium brown hair, cute nose, vibrant golden-brown eyes, but she had nothing on the woman she was tasked with helping.
When she entered the room, clicking the door shut behind her, I refocused my attention on the rodent in front of me. “Let’s pretend like you even have the authority to fire me.”
Parker opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it at the murderous flash I knew was sparkling in my eyes. He caused Lake pain and for that, I wanted to burn this man alive. I hardly needed more reasons. “Don’t pretend you have authority over me. My contract is with Harrington. No one else. Not even Lake who I would still rank higher than you on my list of employers.” I took another menacing step toward the lackey and let myself smile at the twisted thoughts running through my mind. “I suggest you keep that in mind the next time you’re out with your boss, Dom. We’ve been kind enough to extend immediate protection to those around Harrington. It would be a shame if that were limited to only him and something should happen toyou.”
I reached out and fussed with the other man’s tie, looking to the world around like I was simply helping Parker out. What they didn’t notice was the way the tie pulled too tightly around his neck and the soft choking noise as I positioned the knot tightly over his throat. With a falsely cheery smile, I patted Dominc Parker harshly on the cheek and turned away, leaving the piece of shit to quickly yank at his make-shift noose and storm back to the elevators, not even looking back at Lake through the window.
The ensuing parade of people through Lake’s room gave me time to observe and evaluate. She’d been in shock before the hospital, but now she seemed perfectly okay and adapted to her new position in life as someone’s target. I supposed in a way she’d always been targeted for one thing or another. Targeted by the media and plastered on every gossip rag. Then targeted by her father for making the gossip columns in the first place. Now she was targeted by psychopaths and hitmen, And again, she’d taken it in stride. I’d seen quite a few rich and powerful men buckle under the pressure a target brings. Lake continued to present a layer of superior calm that would have pissed me off days ago, but now had me almost beaming with pride.
Lake had demanded walking out on her own, politely telling Brianna where she could put the wheelchair that had been retrieved for her discharge. I had a feeling she was irritated by the nurse’s inability to stop watching me. I knew she was attracted to me. Iwasobservant after all and had to be for my job. If I couldn’t read signs of attraction, I had no right doing the job I did, relying on my ability to read people and situations. It was easy to ignore her attraction until I’d seen Lake’s withering glares toward both the nurse and me whenever I spoke about her like she wasn’t even in the room.
Her small signs of aggression each time the petite nurse came closer to me was the one thing that had my blood pressure rising and desire bringing me to attention that I discreetly repositioned many times over the next few hours. Luckily, once reinforcements from my team arrived with more vehicles and a lot more firepower, we were ready to continue on. The calm and deadly control snapped back into place as she was led from her room to the parking garage where the SUVs were running and waiting. Not one member of my team had faltered at picking up where we’d left off even though we had lost two men already.
Well, Fitz had faltered, but that was due to the fact that he was now drowsy and useless thanks to his child-like fight with the nurse over injecting him. Now he was sitting in the front seat next to Turner, snoring away, cheek smashed against the passenger’s window. Our driver shook his head in irritation and glared at the road as Lake and I fought smiles in the back seat.
Leaning forward, Lake rested her hand on Turner’s shoulder, and though the gesture was friendly, that possessive monster inside of me rattled at the cage door. I wanted all of her touches. All of her sighs and moans too. Brushing aside my need to claim her, I listened as she made sure Turner was fine.
“I’m good to go, Lake. Slight bruising on my legs, but nothing I can’t work with.” While his voice was pleasant and held no pain, I knew better. I’d gotten a rundown on every man involved in our envoy from Hell. Evan Turner had more than slight bruising. His thighs had been pinned by the steering column being crushed into him. The bruising was to the bone, the doctors telling him how lucky he was that he hadn’t fractured both femurs. He’d demanded a non-narcotic painkiller and had made sure he was already in the car before Lake had been brought down. He hadn’t wanted her to see him limping and “lose her mind” as he’d put it.
