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The kid in the catcher T-shirt sniffed. “Is Logan okay?”
Rosalie opened her mouth to deliver the news but shut it when Grady’s phone rang.
He stepped to the door to take a call. Seconds later, his already hardened face turned to stone. “I’m needed elsewhere. I’ll meet you at the hospital.”
Cannon poppeda couple of acid reducers into his mouth as he stalked off the elevator and headed for the security office. The surgery to remove the bullet in Julia’s leg had only taken an hour, but it had felt like twelve. Unlike after her other surgeries,he couldn’t sit by her bedside until she awoke. Even though he’d just left her room, he pulled out his phone to send a text to Easton, who was sitting with her while she slept.
Head down, he rounded the corner. A surprised “Oof” puffed from the person he’d bumped into. The scent of cherries drifted into his nose.
“Rosalie.” He gripped her forearms.
She dropped her hand to where Shred had kicked her.
He feathered his fingers over what he was sure had to be injured ribs. She tried to hide her wince, but he caught it. “You need to get this checked out.”
“I’m fine. Nothing’s broken.”
“I doubt you learned how to diagnose a broken rib at the FBI Academy.”
He waited for a smart comeback. Instead, she started for the security office at the end of the long hall. Falling into step next to her, he wished for a reason to verbally spar. His punching bag was two floors up, and he needed a release before he exploded. “Did you learn anything about Shred from his buddies?”
“Logan. His name is Logan. His girlfriend’s name is Gina, and they have a baby on the way. I need to see the surveillance videos from all angles around the hospital going back to the time Logan left his condo until he arrived in the ER.” She quickened her pace as she touched her fingers to the bandage on her forehead. “Is Grady back yet? He had to leave before we finished talking to Logan’s friends.”
Cannon matched her adrenaline-fueled sprint down the hall. “Haven’t seen him. Wulf should have the feeds pulled up. After we examine the footage, I’ll give you another injection.” The painkiller he’d given her for the cut on her forehead had to have worn off by now.
She rolled her eyes and opened the security office door. “Yes, Doctor.”
“Smart-ass,” he muttered, pleased to see a glimpse of the spirited woman he’d met yesterday.
His smirk drooped south at the harsh German words Wulf spewed around the room.
Rosalie flew to the security console Wulf sat in front of. “What’s wrong?”
“The video feeds. I’ve been trying to access the time stamps before the gunman showed up in the ER, but I can’t.”
“Shit.” Cannon clasped his hands behind his head.
Wulf stood and grabbed his coat from a hook on the wall. “I need to check something.”
Rosalie dropped into his seat and typed on the keyboard. A long thirty seconds later, she spun in the chair and looked at Cannon. “I’m not sure what Wulf went to check—the outside cameras, I’m guessing—but the video from the critical time is most certainly gone.”
“Fuck.”
“My thoughts exactly.” She pulled her laptop out of her backpack and placed it next to Wulf’s keyboard. “How’s your sister?”
“Stable.” He raked a hand through his hair. People came to his hospital to get better, not get hurt. He’d promised Shred—er, Logan—he’d be safe. Now, not just a kid, but a father-to-be lay in surgery while Julia recovered a floor above.
“The bullet hit the fleshy part of her thigh. Thank God it missed the femoral artery.” His voice caught on the last word. If the bullet had hit a centimeter to the left, there might not have been time to stop the bleeding.
Rosalie touched his forearm. “I don’t know Julia, but from what I witnessed, she’s strong and one hell of a shot. I can’t wait to buy her a drink and talk guns.”
“No more guns for my sister.” Julia was already scheduled to take leave from the police department when the drug trialstarted. Once he got a minute, he’d talk to the police chief about putting her on leave effective immediately. If he could do the same for Rosalie, he would. He had enough to manage without worrying about the women he cared about facing bullets.
He trapped a growl in his throat. He couldn’t care for Rosalie. He was still mad at her for calling the FBI behind his back. However, keeping law enforcement out of his hospital wasn’t an option now, so he might as well utilize her resources. Sitting next to her, he tapped out a text to Wulf.
Surveillance feeds?
He cursed when Wulf didn’t immediately respond and looked at Rosalie. “Start talking, Special Agent. Why was a teenager with a gun sent to my ER by ademonto give you a message?”
