No Place to Run

CHAPTER 31

SOPHIE stared down into Garrett’s eyes—eyes that were glazed with pain and beginning to fade. Warmth spread under her hand, and she looked down to see her palm pressed to his shoulder. Blood seeped through her fingers and over his shirt.

No. No, no, no. The bullet had struck him where he wasn’t protected.

She shook her head in denial as tears coursed down her face.

“Sophie, honey, stop looking at me like that,” Garrett said gruffly. “You’ll have me convinced I’m going to die.”

“You’re not?” she asked in a quivery voice.

“I hurt like a son of a bitch, but I’m pretty sure nothing vital was hit. That’s what the vest is for.”

She lifted her hand and swallowed in horror at the sticky blood that covered her palm. Then she looked back at Garrett in panic. Was he lying to her?

“Sophie, move away, let me look at him.”

She turned to see Donovan tugging at her arm, his face grim with worry. She allowed him to pick her up, and then she stumbled away as Donovan bent over Garrett.

Immediately she was enfolded in a fierce hug. Sam. She went weak with relief.

“Are you all right? Are you hurt? Talk to me, Sophie. Are you and the baby okay?”

He ran his hands urgently over her body, pushing, pulling, tugging at her clothing as he searched for evidence of injury.

Then he reached out and touched her temple, his fingers coming away covered in blood. She stared stupidly at the blood—her blood. She remembered her hand hurting. Not her head. She hadn’t registered that she was bleeding. She stared down at her hand. Garrett’s blood. Not hers.

“Son of a bitch,” Sam swore. “Ethan, get me something to clean this off so I can see how bad it is.”

He all but carried her to the Hummer he’d driven up in. He was exceedingly gentle with her as he set her down on the edge of the seat. Her legs dangled over the edge, and she just sat there. Numb. Suddenly exhausted. Worried out of her mind.

“Garrett shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured.

She stared over to where Donovan was taking care of Garrett and talking into his receiver in urgent tones.

It bewildered her. Garrett had said it was what family did, but she wasn’t family. Certainly not his family. Was she?

Garrett didn’t even like her. He had to think she’d betrayed Sam—betrayed them all.

Sam’s hands shook as they slid up her arms to grasp her shoulders. For a moment he held her there, his fingers firm against her skin. Then he lowered his arms once more and gathered her hands in his.

She yelped and yanked her right hand from his grasp and cradled it protectively against her chest. She kept her gaze purposely from his. She glanced over at Garrett again and rocked back and forth, cupping her fingers against her.

They throbbed. Pain streaked up her arm. Her head had started to ache too, and she could feel the warm blood slide slowly over her ear.

Sam watched and worried as Sophie blanked out the world around her. Ethan appeared with a med kit, and Sam grabbed a bottle of saline and some bandages when Ethan opened it

“Go help Van with Garrett. Does he have a chopper coming?”

“Yeah, Resnick is landing now.”

Sam nodded and motioned Ethan away. He hadn’t even heard the helicopter. He’d been too focused on Sophie.

He carefully wiped at the blood that seeped down her temple and ear. She didn’t seem to register what he was doing. Her gaze was fixed on Garrett in the distance.

When he finally got the area cleaned, Sam thumbed the gash and the knot on her head. It needed stitches. He hoped to hell that was all and that she didn’t have a serious head injury. She needed transport too.

He tried to pull her wrist away from her chest so he could look at her hand, but she resisted, holding it tense.

“Honey, let me look at your hand. I need to see how badly you’ve hurt it.”

He purposely kept his voice low-pitched and soothing. Her gaze was still focused on Garrett, and another tear rolled down her cheek.

His heart turned over in his chest. God almighty but he loved her. His skin itched and crawled with the need to hold her and comfort her.

“Soph, let me have your hand, sweetheart.”

She looked at him finally, and then she glanced down at her hand, confusion clouding her blue eyes. Slowly she extended it, but held it gingerly in her other hand.

He winced when he saw the two swollen and obviously broken fingers. He gently prodded at her wrist and moved her other fingers. Only the two were injured. It probably hurt like hell, but he couldn’t discern any other injuries. He prayed she didn’t have anything internal.

He touched a finger to her neck to find her pulse. It was a little erratic, but it beat strongly against his fingertips. Her color wasn’t too bad considering. She was pale, yes, but not deathly so. It was her mental state that was bothering him at the moment.

Not even the sound of the helicopter fazed her. She just sat there, her eyes vacant, her face dusty and tear-stained.

“Sam,” Ethan called. “You need to get her aboard. Mom and Resnick are going to stay with me and Van. We’ll drive out. There’s room for both you and Sophie.”

Sam gathered her close in his arms and carefully lifted her from the truck. She lay limply against him as he hurried across the ground toward the waiting helicopter.

Donovan leaned down to take Sophie from his arms when Sam arrived.

“How’s Garrett?” Sam shouted.

“Stable,” Donovan yelled back. “I’ve stopped the blood and applied a pressure dressing. He’s hurting like a son of a bitch, but he’ll make it.”

Sam closed his eyes and inhaled deeply in relief. Thank God.

Donovan crouched in the helicopter and situated Sophie on one of the seats while Sam climbed in behind him. Garrett was on a litter on the floor, his legs and one arm immobilized.

He opened his eyes and stared up at Sam.

“Sophie?” he mouthed.

Sam leaned down close to his brother’s ear. “She’s okay, I think. Thanks to you.”

Garrett tried to shrug but then paled in pain.

Sam put his hand on Garrett’s chest and stared down fiercely at the big man.

“Thanks, man. I can never repay what you just did for me. You saved . . . you saved my future. You saved my life.”

Garrett smiled faintly. His mouth worked, but Sam couldn’t hear him over the roar of the engine. He leaned closer.

“She means a lot to you, man. I was wrong about her.”

Sam returned his brother’s pained smile. “So was I.”

“All set?” the pilot yelled back.

Donovan hopped out of the back and then gave the pilot a thumbs-up. Sam scrambled up and sat next to Sophie who still stared at Garrett with numb shock.

Sam leaned in close, touched her cheek, then nuzzled through her hair to her ear.

“He’s going to be just fine, honey, I promise.”

For the first time she seemed aware of Sam, and she turned her anxious gaze on him. She tried to say something, but he lost it as the helicopter lifted into the air.

She looked back down at Garrett so close to her feet. Garrett smiled. Sam knew it had to be difficult when it was obvious he was hurting, but he lifted his free hand up to Sophie.

She grasped it and Garrett squeezed. He would have dropped his hand back down, but she held tight and leaned over to hold it between her knees.

“I’m okay,” he mouthed up at Sophie. “You?”

She only nodded, then grimaced and held up her right hand to show him the swollen, misshapen fingers.

Garrett winced in sympathy, but he kept holding Sophie’s other hand as they hovered over the terrain.

Some of Sam’s anxiety and the tightness in his chest dissipated as he watched Garrett soften toward Sophie. Garrett looked at Sam, and Sam knew his brother had seen the same fragility in Sophie, almost like she was teetering on the edge of a complete breakdown.

Sam leaned over and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her in close and slid one hand down to cup her belly. He wanted to feel the reassuring thump of their child, but her stomach was still and rigid.

He wouldn’t borrow trouble and wouldn’t expend energy worrying needlessly. Their daughter had to be okay. Sophie had to be okay.

He couldn’t live without either.