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Cal immediately grabs Kellan’s arm and puts pressure on the wound. “Where’s the weapon? If it gets found with his blood on it—”
“I stole it from the guy,” Wes says. “We were outside, and it’s raining hard, so any blood has already been washed away.”
“I’m fine,” Kellan says, but when he tries to pull away, Cal doesn’t let him. “Dude, seriously. I put pressure on it during the drive, but I don’t know how much good it did. It’s not even that deep of a cut.”
“Get into the kitchen.” Cal starts walking down the hallway, dragging Kellan with him. “I need better lighting.”
Kellan protests, but I don’t catch whatever he says. My mind is spiraling out of control, and it feels like someone has wrapped their hand around my heart and is squeezing painfully.
“Hey.” Wes steps up to me, and even though it absolutely shouldn’t, the familiar scent of leather and pine soothes me.
“Did he almost die?” I hear myself ask, but I don’t feel my mouth form the words.
“Not even close.” Wes pushes my hair out of my face. “He’ll be okay.”
“What about you?” I search him, but the only blood on him seems to be Kellan’s.
“I’m fine, Thelia. Hey—hey, look at me.” Wes grabs my face and tilts it upward until I’m staring into his eyes. Such a deep brown, and right now, they’re so full of concern. “You don’t have to worry about us, my soul.”
I realize with startling clarity that Iamworrying—that I have been. That the nights I have trouble sleeping and the nights the guys are working have almost a one-hundred percent overlap.
No. No, I can’t think like this.
I tear away from Wes, and then I all but run into the kitchen.
“Were there any witnesses?” Cal is asking as he rips Kellan’s jacket off.
“Not any who’re still alive,” Kellan answers.
“This was supposed to be an easy job,” Cal says. “What the fuck happened?”
“Char’s intel was off,” Wes replies. “I called her on the way home. She was shocked, said she’ll look into it. Sounds like she has an informant who went rogue or something.”
“Fucking Christ,” Cal grumbles. “I should’ve come with you guys.”
“No.” Wes shakes his head. “We’ve gotten to the point where we can handle doing jobs two at a time. This isn’t your—”
“Not anymore,” I snap, whipping around to face Wes. I shouldn’t be getting involved—shouldn’t be acting on the fact that I stupidly care—but it’s too late.
Idocare. Too much.
“Athelia, it was a simple mistake. We’re not going to make it again. ” Wes pulls me into his arms, and even though I’m worried and upset andso fucking pissed,I can’t stop myself from placing my hands on his chest so I can feel his steady heartbeat. “We’ll befine.”
“No. No! What if it’s worse next time? What if—Wes, what if one of you—”
“That’s not happening.” Wes’s tone is hard and firm, and his eyes turn stony, even though he’s still holding me gently.
I breathe deeply, focusing on his heart, which is beating strongly under my palm. Kellan seems fine for the most part. His cheeks are even pink, probably from being out in the cold, which means he hasn’t lost a lot of blood—I hope.
“You need stitches,” Cal says.
“Well I’m sure as fuck not going to a hospital,” Kellan says. “Not worth the risk.”
“That’s why we got that med kit,” Cal says. “Can one of you grab it? It’s under the sink.”
“Sure,” I mumble, but Wes stops me.
“I’ve got it. Just relax.”
