Rhys (11 page)

Tessa gripped onto Rhys’ broad shoulders from behind. She rested her head on his back, and prayed he wasn’t bluffing. Who was she kidding? The man probably didn’t even know how.

The room went quiet. Tessa risked poking her head around Rhys’ side.

It was obvious that Rhys had planted the seeds of doubt in Dylan’s men. Uncertainty started to show on their faces. The muzzles of their guns slipped down a notch.

Rhys was ready. In one fluid motion, he pulled the gun from his waistband, swung it around, and fired off two lightning-fast shots.

The two men crumpled to the ground instantly, clutching their shoulders.

Tessa’s jaw fell open as she stared at them writhing on the hardwood floor. Somehow Rhys had managed to shoot straight through their rotator cuffs, disarming them completely, and he had managed that level of surgical precision in a blink of an eye.

They were bleeding and in a world of pain, but they would live.

“The 9mm might not be as flashy, but I think it’s more effective in this scenario,” Rhys said.

Tessa pried her eyes off the injured men and up to Dylan. He had his own handgun out in front of him now, and it was trained right in the center of Rhys’ chest.

It looked like they weren’t out of the woods yet.

“Agreed,” Dylan said. There wasn’t a trace of humor in his voice now.

“I did say you should have brought more men,” Rhys said.

“You always loved being right.” Dylan’s eyes filled with open hatred.

“Don’t you think you should check on them?” Rhys said.

Dylan’s face contorted with barely-contained rage, and Tessa’s blood ran cold. She knew this look. She’d seen the same savage fire in his eyes just before discovering how cruel Dylan Murtry could be. He was not a man who liked to lose.

“They’re fools for letting their guard down around you. It’s not a mistake I plan on making. As far as I’m concerned, they’re on their own,” Dylan growled. The look in his eyes bordered on psychotic. Tessa was starting to believe he might shoot her just for the satisfaction at this point.

Rhys must have thought so too, because he slowly started backing up toward the kitchen—the only other way out of the house. Tessa shuffled behind him, keeping her hands flat against his back.

“Just give me the girl, and I promise that I won’t kill you, brother,” Dylan said as they neared the kitchen door.

“You’re not my brother,” Rhys said.

“And what the hell is she to you?” Dylan asked, anger boiling in every word. Suddenly, his hand wasn’t quite as steady as Rhys’, his steps not so sure. “Whatever it is, I promise she’s not worth your life. No bitch is.”

“Call her that again, and I’ll put a bullet right between your eyes,” Rhys said, stopping short. It sure sounded like he meant what he said. His words might have been cold and calm, but Tessa could feel the tension radiating through every muscle under his shirt.

“No,” Tessa shouted. No one had to die. Not over her. Not even a sack of shit like Dylan Murtry.

Damn it. They were so close to the kitchen door, just a few feet away. A few more steps and she could wrap her hand around the knob.

Of course, Tessa had no clue what the hell Rhys was planning to do once they got out there, but she’d decided to trust him, and now she could only do her best to stay tucked behind him.

“Go to hell, Rhys,” Dylan snarled.

“You first.”

The bottom dropped out of Tessa’s belly. She knew what was coming. Just like she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it. Even the air in the room had changed, crackling with a kind of electric tension that made her hair stand up on end.

Tessa had just enough time to suck in a quick breath before gunfire exploded next to her. Two shots, one right after the other. Her eyes instinctually clenched tight at the deafening sound as she waited for pain to rip through her.

But it never came.

Her eyes popped open, and she peeked around Rhys’ side.

Dylan was down on the floor, clutching at his arm, his face contorted with pain. He looked up at her, rage burning in his eyes.

“Don’t you dare think this is over, bitch,” he spat at her.

“Get the door,” Rhys said, his voice sounding strange. There was a wobble to it that Tessa had never heard before. She glanced up at his face. He looked pale.

He repeated the command, stronger this time.

Tessa rushed over and threw open the door.

“Now go, Tessa,” Rhys said.

Rhys kept his gun trained on Dylan as he stumbled backwards.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Tessa said, keeping her hand flat against his back, letting him know she was there. His weight pressed against her palm as he leaned into her.

“I’m not arguing with you, Tessa,” he said plainly. “I don’t want you to see what comes next.”

Tessa’s heart froze. Suddenly, she understood. He was planning on finishing the job.

“Don’t do it, Rhys,” Tessa said. “Please.”

“Go,” he said again, but the strength was starting to seep out of his words.

She shook her head, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

“He’s down. He’s unarmed. It would be murder,” she pleaded with him.

“Don’t listen to the bitch,” Dylan shouted. “Pull the damn trigger and kill me. Because if you don’t, I promise I will come after you both. I will take down anyone that stands in my way. And this time, I will not miss.”

She felt his back tense again.

“You’re not a monster, Rhys,” she reminded him. “You’re a good man. I wouldn’t feel this way about you if you weren’t.”

Rhys didn’t move. The air froze in Tessa’s lungs as the seconds ticked by.

In the end, he took a wobbly step backwards, and then another, until he made his way out onto the back patio. Tessa rushed forward to slam the kitchen door closed. She turned around and threw her arms around him.

He didn’t embrace her back. He felt heavy in her arms.

Something was wrong.

Her heart froze as something warm and wet dripped over her fingers.

Oh, God no.

Tessa pulled back and her worst fear was confirmed.

“You’ve been shot,” she said, looking down at his blood covering her hand.

“It’s nothing.” His eyes were pointed straight ahead, focused on nothing in particular.

“Like hell it is,” she said. She slung her arm around his middle and tried her best to take some of his weight as she guided him down the steps and across the lawn. “I have to get you to a hospital.”

He might’ve been weak, but he managed to shoot her a look so withering that it shut that idea down immediately.

“Ok, no hospitals,” Tessa said, propping him against the side of the garage long enough to throw open the door. “Where then?”

“Jake.”

“I thought Dylan said he missed.”

“He did,” Rhys said. His voice was growing so weak that she could barely make out the words. “He was aiming for my heart.”

Damn it. He was losing a lot of blood—too much to hold onto consciousness much longer. She got him over to the passenger side door. Another minute, and she would have had to drag him over by his feet.

Tessa dug into his pocket for his keys and, through sheer force of will, got him into the passenger seat. She ran to the other side and started the engine.

She’d just pulled out of the driveway when she heard the faint wail of police sirens in the distance.

Great.

Tessa tried not to let her nerves get the best of her as she drove out of the residential neighborhood. Flooring it might be tempting, but it would only draw the cops’ attention. It turned out she was right, as a mile or so later, half a dozen police cars sped past her, headed in the direction of the house.

She watched their blue and red lights disappear in the rearview mirror before she turned toward Rhys. He was slumped in the seat. His eyelids were barely open, little more than slits.

Shit
.

He wasn’t going to make it anywhere if she couldn’t stabilize him.

Tessa’s pragmatic mind took over as she turned off into a strip mall parking lot, and directed the car to a spot far in the back. She threw it into park, but kept the engine running.

Her heart clenched as she saw little streams of bright red blood trickle down the length of his arm, dripping off his fingertips. She tamped down her fear. Rhys needed her to be calm and focused right now. His life depended on it.

She could do this.

She muttered an apology as she reached out and grasped his forearm, but his eyes didn’t even flicker her way. That wasn’t a good sign.

There was a gunshot wound along the edge of his left bicep. She lifted his arm high enough to spy a matching hole on the other side. It looked like the bullet had gone straight through. That was the good news.

The bad, was that it was bleeding pretty bad. Not shredded artery bad, but enough to need a pressure bandage if he had any hope of surviving.

Tessa flicked open the glove compartment and found a knife inside—a big, scary-looking one—just like she thought she would. She slipped the blade under his shirt and pulled up, cleanly slicing through the material.

She pulled off her own shirt, and folded it as tightly as she could. Then she pressed it hard against his wound before wrapping his shredded shirt around it. It wasn’t pretty, but with a little prayer—and a whole lot of luck—it might just keep until she could get him to someone who knew what the hell they were doing.

Speaking of which…

Tessa reached for Rhys’ phone and scrolled through the contacts until she found Jake’s name.

A second later a familiar gruff voice answered. “Hey.”

“J-Jake, thank God.” She didn’t realize she was crying until she heard her own voice breaking.

“Tessa?” The concern in Jake’s voice was immediate. “What’s wrong?”

“Rhys has been shot,” she said. “We need your help.”

“Where are you?” he asked.

“In Rhys’ car.”

“Good,” Jake said. “I’m going to need you to calm down and do exactly what I tell you. Can you do that?”

“Y-yeah,” Tessa said.

It didn’t matter what it was, if it meant that Rhys would live, Tessa was willing to do anything at all.

Chapter Ten

Tessa could barely pry her fingers off the steering wheel as she pulled up to the address that Jake had given her. Her whole body was stiff. Her heart was hammering so hard, she could barely hear anything over the roar of blood rushing in her ears.

She’d nearly panicked when he’d lost consciousness somewhere around San Mateo. After that, Tessa had pressed the accelerator down to the floor and drove like the devil himself was tailing her. What should have taken the better part of an hour to drive up the peninsula had barely taken twenty minutes.

At least the traffic had been light.

Jake was waiting for her on the curb, and jumped into the back seat.

“How’s he doing?” he asked.

“I-I don’t…” Tessa tried to answer, but the words couldn’t make it past the lump in her throat.

Jake didn’t push for more. He put his hands on Rhys’ shoulders.

Rhys stirred a little in his seat, not much, but enough to ease some of the dread wrapping around Tessa’s heart.

At least he wasn’t dead.

Maybe someone up there was listening to her prayers after all.

“Take the next right,” Jake said. “It’ll take you down into a parking structure.”

Jake guided her to an empty spot next to the elevator. He was out of the car and lifting Rhys out of his seat before she could even pull the keys out of the ignition.

Tessa rushed over to Rhys’ other side, and slid his arm around her shoulder. She knew she wouldn’t be much help bearing his weight, but she had to try.

Somehow they managed to drag him into the waiting elevator and prop his back against the wall.

“You did a hell of a job on this field dressing,” Jake said, as they rose up to the seventh floor.

Tessa’s eyes began to burn anew.

Like that mattered. None of this should have happened in the first place. Not to Rhys. Dear God, he hadn’t done anything but try to help her.

This was her fault. All of it.

Charlie was waiting for them when the doors slid open.

“Holy shit,” she said as they pulled Rhys out into the hallway.

“The door, Charlie,” Jake reminded her.

“Yeah.” She gave her head a quick shake. “You got it.”

Charlie rushed down to the end of the hall and held the door open.

“Mason is all set up in the guest bedroom,” she said.

Fortunately, Jake seemed to know where he was going. He steered them toward an open door just off the living room.

A man looked up from tucking a clean white sheet over the mattress as they entered.

This had to be Mason. He was tall and clean cut, with the kind of good looks you would find on a magazine cover. But apparently, he was more than just a pretty face. He rushed over and relieved her of Rhys’ weight. Together, he and Jake helped Rhys to the bed.

Tessa glanced around the room. Charlie hadn’t been lying when she said they were ready. The bedroom looked like an operating room. There was an IV stand ready with several units of blood, a tray of instruments, and what looked like a crash cart.

Jake walked back to her as soon as Rhys was down. He clasped her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We should leave Mason alone to do his job.”

Tessa dug in her heels. “I want to stay.”

Jake could have easily muscled her out of the room, but he didn’t.

Mason lifted his head, his expression changing from intense concentration to open empathy the moment his gaze settled on her face.

Dear God, did she really look that bad? She must have.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Mason said. “I promise.”

“Are you a doctor?” she asked.

Mason shook his head. “Not technically.”

“But he’s incredibly skilled,” Jake said. His gentle voice was at odds with his massive body. “I’ve seen him work miracles on guys that were in a hell of a lot worse shape than Rhys.”

Tessa looked up at Jake. Concern shone in his eyes, but also trust. It was hard to remember that she wasn’t the only one here that cared about Rhys.

Tessa drew in a shaky breath and nodded. Slowly, she turned around and followed him out.

He led her over to a sofa, lined with green and gold pillows. The armchair to her right was denim blue, the one to her left vermillion. There was a big open window behind her and the afternoon sun poured in, filling the living room with bright cheery light.

This had to be Charlie’s place.

Under any other circumstances, Tessa would have appreciated the riot of color, but at the moment it was all she could do to keep her head up and pointed straight ahead.

Now that the adrenaline had left her system, every blink was a herculean task, every breath a struggle. There wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t feel weighed down and leaden. It was like someone had drained the last drop of fight right out of her.

She barely found the energy to lift her head when Charlie came over and put a mug down in front of her.

“I got nervous waiting for everyone to show up,” Charlie said. “I had to do something. So, I made tea.”

Tessa wasn’t thirsty, but she wrapped her fingers around the warm cup and pulled it closer anyway. She understood the need to do something with her hands.

“How are you holding up?” Charlie asked her as she sat down.

Tessa didn’t look away from the swirls of steam rising from her tea. What the hell was she supposed to say? That her insides were being devoured by guilt? That she was overwhelmed with worry? That if Rhys died, she would never forgive herself?

Tessa shrugged her shoulders.

No one said much of anything after that. Silence fell over the room as the minutes ticked by. Jake took a post near the window, looking out across the city. Charlie shifted in her seat for a few minutes before getting up to pace back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. Tessa continued to stare into her cup.

Time passed. Tessa wasn’t sure how much. All she knew was that her cup had cooled to room temperature when a loud buzz sounded from a small speaker box by the front door.

Her head snapped up at the sound.

“Finally,” Charlie muttered as she ran over and hit the red button. She turned toward Jake. “Carter’s here.”

Tessa glanced down at the floor. She could only imagine how much venom the man was going to spit at her this time. Not that it mattered. She deserved every drop.

A little less than a minute later, Carter Macmillan threw open the door and blew in with all the bluster of a winter storm. He wasn’t alone this time.

A woman was with him. A tall and vibrant woman with upswept auburn hair and a long gait.

“Where is he?” Carter demanded before he was all the way inside.

“In the bedroom,” Jake answered, not moving from his position. “Mason’s still working on him.”

“How is he?” he asked.

Jake shrugged. “I’ve seen him take worse.”

Carter nodded. Apparently, that was the answer he’d been hoping for. Some of the tension drained from his face.

Of course, it all came rushing back the second his gaze fell on her. Tessa found that she didn’t even have the will to avoid his dark glower.

“I want answers, and I want them now,” he said, taking a step her way.

“I know you do,” Tessa muttered.

She raised her hands and rubbed at her temples. She was so goddamned tired. Tired of keeping secrets. Tired of running. Tired of fighting.

None of it had done a bit of good anyway. Nothing had turned out as she’d planned.

“I don’t care about any of your damned excuses. I don’t give a shit who you are trying to protect. I’m going to make you talk.”

“
Carter
,” the woman by his side shouted. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Tessa didn’t blame the man. She understood his reasons. She could see the same fear that was eating her alive reflected in his hard brown eyes. It was written all over the deep lines bracketing his mouth and brow. He was angry, sure. But he was also terrified for the life of his friend…as scared as she was. And unlike everyone else in the room, Carter knew exactly who to blame for Rhys’ condition.

“You’re the reason that Rhys got shot today, and by God, if you don’t open your mouth in the next ten seconds and tell us what the hell is going on, I’m going to pull my piece out, and do the same to you.”

“Over my dead body,” a voice came from across the room.

“Rhys!” Tessa shouted as she shot up from the couch. Relief swept through her at the sight of him in the bedroom doorway. Some of the color had come back to his face, and he was standing under his own power.

He looked okay. A real bandage was wrapped around his arm, but other than that he looked remarkably whole. She desperately wanted to rush over to his side and throw her arms around him, but she stopped herself.

Being close to her was the reason he’d been shot in the first place.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Carter asked, his voice heavy with concern.

“You try keeping him down,” Mason said with a laugh. He snuck past Rhys and made his way to one of the chairs by the couch. “He’s going to be fine. The bullet missed all arteries and bones. He might not be throwing out the first pitch at the company picnic for a few weeks, but other than that, he should be fine.”

Carter didn’t look convinced.

“You need rest,” he said to Rhys in a tone that sounded distinctly like an order.

Rhys’ stare was as hard as ice. “And you need to know that if you ever threaten Tessa again, I will hurt you in ways you’ve never even imagined.”

Carter didn’t flinch. He didn’t even blink as they stood toe to toe.

Dear God, it looked as if they were about to come to blows.

Tessa’s stomach lurched at the thought of any more violence over her.

“It’s okay, Rhys. He was just trying to protect you,” Tessa said, trying her best to diffuse the tension. “Besides, he’s right. This
is
all my fault.”

Rhys’ face snapped toward her. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” Tessa said. She let out a sigh as she sat back down on the couch. “If I had stuck to my plan, if I had found a way out of your car that night—”

“You’d be dead right now,” Rhys said. He turned his back on Carter and strode over to the couch, sitting down by her side.

“Maybe,” Tessa conceded. “But you’d be safe.”

“You think I care about this?” Rhys said, tilting his head toward his bandaged arm. “Do you have any idea what Dylan would have done if he’d gotten his hands on you?”

Tessa swallowed down hard as she looked straight into the blue depths of his eyes.

“Yes.” She knew
exactly
what he would have done. “And I still would have gone with him if it meant you’d be okay.”

The auburn-haired woman let out a long whistle as she sat down in the last remaining chair. All heads turned her way.

“Time out. Is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on?” she asked, looking up at Carter. “Why did you threaten to shoot this woman? Why did you have Mason go to all the trouble of sewing Iceman back together, just to act like you were going to tear him apart yourself? And why the hell is anyone shooting at these two in the first place?”

“Iceman?” Tessa asked.

“Ally likes to give out nicknames,” Mason said with a wink. “Rhys is Iceman. Jake is Bruiser. I’m Blue Eyes.”

“Ally?” Tessa said, rolling the name over in her mind. “Ally Weaver? The journalist that took down Congressman Fuller?”

Ally held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss…”

“Dr. Teresa Rosenthal.”

Ally gave her a genuine smile, but then gave Carter some serious side eye. “I wish I could say that I’ve heard as much about you as you’ve heard about me. But it looks like
someone
has been keeping you a secret.”

Carter let out a sharp breath. “It was for Dr. Rosenthal’s safety.”

“Bullshit,” Ally said without missing a beat. “It was because there’s a hell of a story here, and you were afraid that I’d follow it.”

Carter’s shoulders sank as he looked up toward the ceiling. Tessa had to admit, it was more than a little amusing to see that there was at least one person who could get the better of the
Captain
.

“Which is exactly what you’re going to do, isn’t it?” he asked.

Ally turned back toward Tessa. Her expression was open and honest. “That all depends on Dr. Rosenthal.”

“What do you mean?” Tessa asked.

“Someone is after you. I’m guessing they’re pretty powerful since these guys are involved,” Ally said. “But I might be able to help you. I’ve earned a reputation for taking down powerful people who step over the line.”

Tessa shook her head. “Not this one. He’s far too dangerous.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Carter said.