Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“No. You can try to get it out of me . . . later.”
So, it was something sexy.
I couldn’t wait to work it out of him.
39
ETHAN
I had to remain on the floor while the medic finished bandaging my back. I watched as the other one helped Olivia stand and lean against the desk, then fetched her pants from the floor. He guided her feet to step into them, one at a time, being careful of her battered knee. I was grateful for the amount of care the man gave her, when I couldn’t right now.
As we waited for someone to raid Valentina Abramo’s closet for a top for Olivia, she threaded her good arm through the sleeve of my jacket, which hung down to mid-thigh on her.
It reminded me of when she’d put on my gray jacket in Africa, zipping it all the way up like she could keep me away. Futile, that’s what it had been. I couldn’t stay away.
It had been nice to say that out loud, even though she didn’t understand.
Tragar brought me a shirt that was much too small, and I left it unbuttoned, rolling the sleeves back.
“Hendrix wants you two out of Italy,” he said. “The helicopter will take you and Giovanni to Landstuhl.”
She gave a sharp gasp.
Fuck. It wasn’t like I could argue with him, but I wished it were different. I didn’t want to put her through those hellish memories again. But her wrist was broken, and resetting the bone might require surgery, and I was going to need a CAT scan to make sure the knife hadn’t done anything serious.
She was tough, though, sucking it up. We limped together on our wounded knees to the chopper and climbed in, staring at Gio, who looked dead, but the medic watching the IV in Gio’s arm claimed he wasn’t.
She sat to my left, but leaned close, setting the flat of her palm against the bare skin of my chest where the shirt wouldn’t close. The vibration of the chopper made everything ache, but the warmth of her hand on me made it bearable.
When we landed on the helipad at Landstuhl, she drew away, tension seizing her. I sensed what this was, how she was retreating into herself, which was more than understandable. She was overwhelmed by the long, unbelievably intense day, and the memories of her past. There was nothing I could do about it. We had to part only minutes after walking off the helipad, and I told her I’d find her as soon as I could.
While I waited for my scan results, I called Laurel.
“Is everything okay?” she asked. “Is Olivia—”
“She’s safe. We’re all right.”
I meant only in the sense we’d survived. Olivia’s scream when Vitale brought the rod down on her forearm would probably haunt me the rest of my life. I tried to block it out.
“How’s Jason?”
“Surgery went well. He’s awake now, kind of grumpy.”
“Yeah, getting shot will do that to you.” My voice went serious. “I’m calling to let you know the people responsible for that . . . it’s been handled.”
There was a pause. “How?”
I told her the story, as much as I could, and when it was done, it was as if I could feel the weight rising off her shoulders all the way over in Munich.
“It’s over. You and Jason should be able to go home.” Home to the U.S. if they wanted.
She took a deep breath. “I think we’re already home, but thank you. God, thank you for everything.”
The sincerity in her words stayed with me long after the call ended.
The scan cleared me, and as I lay on my stomach on a table with a technician stitching me closed, the director of my field office, James Hendrix, waltzed in.
I took one look at him and didn’t bother with a greeting. I got right to the point, anger burning up my throat. “I’m fucking done.”
“Don’t worry, this stunt made it clear you can’t be operational right now.” He turned his attention to the technician. “I need to speak with this man alone.”
The tech paused his work. “I’ll be done soon.”
“I can finish it up.” Hendrix didn’t wait for a response. He moved to the sink, stepped on the pedal to start the water, and began to scrub his hands.
The guy glanced at me with concern, but I sighed. “It’s fine.”
The wound was on my back where I couldn’t see it, so I didn’t care much if Hendrix did a shit job. He finished washing his hands, pulled a mask from the dispenser mounted on the wall, and hooked the loops over his ears so it covered his mouth. Next, he tugged a pair of gloves from a box and snapped them on.
There was no further discussion. The technician got up off his stool, demasked and degloved, and the door swung closed behind him as he left.