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“Tank?” I rasp, my throat raw and dry.
He nods while carefully cutting my restraints with a knife he pulls from his boot. The moment I’m free, I almost collapse on the floor. I get back up quickly, thanks to Tank’s help. My knees shake uncontrollably, but somehow, I manage to stumble past Tank and run toward Mason.
He is flat on the ground now. Griffin kneels beside him, putting pressure on Mason’s chest. I fall back onto the ground, my hands and knees digging into the grass.
Griffin calls for Tank to help him get Mason in the SUV that one of the other guys pulls around the house. The team of men moves like a well-rehearsed stage production. Almost like an invisible force directs them to move in a precise order. One opens the back door while Tank and Griffin lift Mason into the back seat. I’m the only person awkwardly standing on the sidelines, unsure what to do.
If it wasn’t for Tank coming back for me to scoop me off the ground, I would probably just sit here until the morning.
“Is he going to be okay?” I ask, knowing damn well he can’t answer me.
The car Mason is in takes off in a hurry while Tank walks me to a similar-looking car up front. Sirens approach from afar as we get into the car, but neither Tank nor the driver seem concerned.
I sit in the back seat and buckle up, noticing how terrible my wrists look. They are swollen, raw, and bloody. I don’t feel any pain yet; my guess is that’s due to the adrenaline rushing through my veins. That will soon run out, and if I’m being honest, I’m looking forward to it. Physical pain is always easier to handle than the emotional kind, and right now, I’m not sure how much more of that I can take.
The drive to the hotel passes in a blur. We pull into the parking garage, where the second car is parked in front of the elevator, the back door still wide open.
“They rushed him to medical.” The driver breaks the silence just as he kills the engine. “You should get checked out as well.”
“I’m fine.” I open the door to climb out of the car, not realizing how weak my knees still are. I have to grab the top of the door so I don’t fall flat on my face. “But I’m going up there anyway, I guess.”
I take another moment to gather my strength before slowly walking around the car. Tank meets me halfway, and I gladly hook my arm into his for support.
“I really am fine,” I promise. “Physically, at least. I mean, yeah, I’m a little shaken up, and I haven’t really eaten a lot the past few days. So that’s probably not helping. What I mean is I didn’t get shot.”
We ride the elevator to the first floor. The familiar setting of the hotel's medical wing greets me when the doors slide open. The sterile smell of disinfectant fills my nose. The hall is empty, but many voices come from one of the rooms and the waiting area.
I glance up at Tank, who gives me a reassuring nod. He keeps his strides small, letting my short legs set the pace as we walk down the hallway to the waiting area.
Griffin, Dallas, and two more guys I don’t know are in a heated argument that comes to an abrupt end when they see me approaching. The only words I caught before the silence was “possible inside job.”
“Hi,” Griffin greets me with a sad look in his eyes.
“Is he okay?”
“He is alive,” Griffin replies, his voice raspy like he has been yelling. He stares at me like he wants to say more, but something holds him back.
“Teagan?” Natalie’s voice draws my attention away from him. I look over my shoulder to find her approaching us. Her eyes are a little red and puffy. Her usual well-put-together look is slightly off. She closes the distance between us and wraps her arms around me.
“I am so sorry,” she whispers into my hair. “We should have never kicked you out like that. We should have believed you. I can’t believe they did that to you… to him.”
As soon as she mentions “they,” I realize nobody has told her about her mom yet. Letting go of Tank’s arm, I hug her back as hard as I can. I have no idea how we can tell her without breaking her heart. Tears form in my eyes again, knowing that I can’t save her from the crushing pain she’s about to experience. The same anguish I saw written all over Mason’s face.
“I’m just glad it’s over.” At least, I hope it is. I don’t even know what happened to their mother. Did she get shot or get away? I was too worried about Mason that I wasn’t paying attention to her.
“Mason just went into surgery, but he was awake when he came in,” Nat explains. “He was asking for you.”
I straighten up. My chest suddenly aches. I want to see him as well, but part of me is scared. Worried about what he’s going to say.
“Hey, Nat.” Dallas comes up to us. “Mind taking a walk with me?”
Her eyebrows draw together in confusion, but she quickly covers it up with a smile before nodding. An uneasy feeling spreads out in my chest as I watch them walk away together. Is he trying to get her away from me, or is he telling her about her mom?
“Come, sit down before you fall over,” Griffin calls from the waiting area. I’m all too happy to oblige. My body goes limp with exhaustion as I flop down on the white leather sofa.
“Where is Dallas taking Natalie? Is he telling her about their mom?” I don’t know why, but I’m whispering the last few words.
“You never stop asking questions, do you?”
