Spread Your Wings: Men in Blue, Book 4 (25 page)

Irritatingly, he looked for permission from her guys before continuing. When Clint and Matt nodded simultaneously, Lucas said, “We have an address that came from a supporter. Someone who wouldn’t crack to unfriendlies for anything. Mason worked some magic to get us close, then I got us the connection through my old pals. There’s always been a rumor. Even more vague than the one about John’s girl. About his little sister. I have an address. It’s way the fuck in the middle of nowhere. JRad’s satellite images show over a thousand acres walled off in the mountains. A whole compound, really. Looks like John taught his kid sis a thing or two about protecting herself.”

“So we’re likely to get our heads blown off when we approach?” Clint raised one brow.

“Probably more likely to run over a landmine or something. I doubt she’ll let you get close enough for a decent shot.” Lucas shrugged. “But it’s worth a try.”

“You think she knows about me?” Jambrea winced.

“I think it’s probably the best chance we have at another piece of the puzzle.” He looked to Matt and Clint. “Agree?”

“I don’t like it. But…” Matt grimaced, then nodded. “Yep.”

“I guess it’s time to hit the road, then.” She stood, dusting imaginary lint from her pants, mentally preparing herself for another move. The change of scenery would do her good, she tried to convince herself. “Ellie, would you mind taking Parker, watching him until this is all finished?”

“Sure, no problem.” The younger woman smiled and wiggled her finger near Parker’s bowl. He splashed at the surface as if saying hello right back. “I’ll have the Men in Blue work with the hotel to get your things too.”

“Thank you.” Jambrea hugged Ellie. “I guess that’s everything.”

“Mind if I use your bathroom first? Then I’ll cover you as best I can on exit.” Lucas grimaced as he shook his crutches. Discreetly, he tapped his pocket.

Attuned to the sound, Jambrea caught the rattle of pills in a prescription bottle. This was no potty break. It was a chemical stop, she was sure. The fact that he was hiding it, probably from Ellie, couldn’t be good. She’d seen this pattern far too many times to let one of her friends spiral that drain.

“Whatever, man.” Matt waved toward the lavish restroom.

Jambrea pretended to gather her belongings near the doorway, then ducked into the tiled space behind the slow-moving guy. She locked the door at the last second.

“Uh. Thanks, Jambi. I know you’re a nurse and all, but I’ve got this.” He rolled his eyes, which might have been funny if she couldn’t see how bloodshot they were or how his jaw trembled beneath the force he clenched it with. The evidence of his agony was blatant. Unfortunately, she witnessed similar cases every single day.

“Take your pants off.” When he didn’t budge, she repeated herself, then added, “Drop your drawers or I’ll do it for you and flush those pills in your pocket down the toilet while I’m at it.”

“I don’t think Matt and Clint will approve.” Still he didn’t flinch.

So she reached forward, her fingers curling in his extra-loose waistband. How much weight had he lost? Too much.

“Jesus. Fine.” He unbuckled his belt, on the tightest setting, ripped open the button fly of his cargos and let the canvas pool around his ankles. As if the simple act had drained all his energy, he plopped onto the closed toilet lid and hung his head. “Go ahead. Tell me how fucked up it is.”

Jambrea swallowed hard, completely ignoring the beautiful frame that didn’t quite support his injured limb. She honed in on the urgent issue. Black splotches screaming of infection and necrosis smeared the already scarred tissue of his mangled leg. She’d bet his toes were a telltale shade of purple. That he hadn’t yet collapsed from the toll on his system bewildered her. After thousands of traumatic injury patients, she had a pretty good idea of where this was heading. It wasn’t a utopian place. “Lucas, you need a doctor. The hospital.
Immediately
. I’m texting Lacey, Mason and Tyler to pick you up and take you over to St. Joseph’s.”

“No more.” He tried to snatch her phone from her grasp, but she danced out of his reach. His face crumpled. Bitterness or despair, maybe both, marred his handsome face. “I can’t take it. I’m all shriveled up. I used to be a soldier. A man. Now look at me!”

“I am.” She clicked send on her message, set her phone down, then approached as she would a wild animal, though he didn’t shift. When she stooped to his level, she took his face between her hands and stared straight into his eyes. “I see one of the bravest men I’ve ever known. One of the strongest too.”

“Bullshit.” He slammed his lids closed, and for a terrifying moment she thought he might cry.

Jambrea would have held him if he had, but she figured only one woman would have that privilege. He shook off the raincloud hovering over him, gathered himself with several deep breaths then blinked away his emotions. It surprised the hell out of her when he tapped the tattoo on her wrist.

“‘I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself’, right?” He cleared his throat.

“Damn straight.” She swooped in for a sneak-attack hug, whether he liked it or not.

“They told me if this last round of drugs didn’t clear up the problems, I might not have a choice anymore. Fighting isn’t an option. I’m gonna lose my leg, Jambi.” His gaze dropped to the tiled floor and stayed glued there. “I’ve lost the war. It’s over.”

“Oh, Lucas.” This time she couldn’t stay upright. She knelt between his knees and clasped his hand tight. “Yes, I believe that’s true. About your leg, not the rest. Can you smell it? The flesh is already lifeless in places. It can’t be undone. I’m so sorry. But…”

Maybe it was too soon for him to hear the truth.

“What? Don’t hold back now. Lay it on the line. I’d rather wrestle an enemy I know.” He swallowed hard.

“Honestly, I’ve wondered for some time if your quality of life would have been better with a prosthetic leg. Technology has come so far. People make amazing recoveries with the help of therapy and the proper equipment. You could be back to more of your old activities with time and hard work instead of losing energy while your body tries to achieve the impossible here. We consult with a specialist at the hospital sometimes. Dr. Mackenzie Walton. She’s the best in her field. She could be what you need.”

“I don’t think I’ve got it in me anymore. I’m tired.”

“No, you’re sick.” She refused to quit trying. “Your leg is deadweight. Dragging you down. Listen to the experts. You’ve got all of us to support you. We’ll be right there with you every step—”

“
Step
.” His disgruntled cackle broke her heart.

“It’s true.” Jambrea hoped her fellow nurse and the woman’s husbands would hurry. Even as she watched, sweat ran down Lucas’ face. He needed help, quickly. Or all his options would evaporate. They wouldn’t operate if they didn’t think his body was strong enough to endure the surgery. How much time had he spent persisting in a losing battle already?

He swayed and she steadied him, hoping she could lower his mass to the floor somewhat gently if he blacked out.

“I bet Ellie wouldn’t leave your side for a second.” Jambrea smiled when she thought of the other woman’s protectiveness.

“She’s crazy. She’d be better off worrying about herself.” Unkind, his words would have stung the vulnerable girl. Jambrea was glad her new friend hadn’t seen him lash out because the underlying pain and fear causing his dismissal might not have been as obvious to someone with emotional problems of her own. “I don’t want her around anymore.”

Why couldn’t things ever be simple?

“Jambi!” Matt’s fist probably came within a hairsbreadth of knocking a hole in the door, solid hardwood or not. “Did you use your fucking phone?”

Oopsy
. Before she could explain the necessity—that it really was life or death—he rattled the door handle.

“Get the hell out of there. Quit playing around and move. JRad picked up a signal from in here. If he did, I guarantee you he’s not alone. We have to go before we have unwanted visitors.”

“Son of a bitch.” Lucas pushed to his feet with sheer determination and the thickly muscled arms that braced his weight on the bathroom counter. “And now I’ll be responsible for getting you all killed too. Fuck me. Ellie’s out there!”

“She’ll go with you to the hospital. You, Ty and Mason can keep her safe on the way. Once you’re away from me, you’ll be fine.” She couldn’t help herself from bestowing one last hug. “It’s going to be a long road, but you’re not going to walk it. One day, you’re going to run again.”

“Jambrea Jones!” Clint joined in the ruckus. “Get your sweet ass out here this instant.”

“Go.” Lucas squeezed her back, for a second, before she turned. He’d barely hiked his pants up around his bonier than usual hips when she flipped the lock and faced her lovers’ wrath. They didn’t have their contented faces on like they had after they’d screwed each other senseless. That serenity had vanished.

“I’ll explain on the way.” She grabbed one of each of their hands and tugged them toward the door. “I’m so sorry, but it had to be done. Trust me.”

“We do,” Matt promised.

Without additional questions, they hauled her toward the exit.

Clint glanced over his shoulder at Lucas. “Mason said he’ll be here in two minutes. Wait for him in the lobby, wherever the most people are gathered. Do you need help getting to the elevator?”

The trio paused before crossing the threshold.

“No, you go.” Ellie stood tall, approaching her unlikely friend. “Together, he and I can make it.”

“I think you’re exactly right.” Jambrea stared into Lucas’s wide eyes, hoping he received her message.

Lucas nodded, then said, “Run.”

Chapter Twelve

Matt and Clint hadn’t been kidding. The moment they burst from their room, they linked hands with her and sprinted for the stairwell, guns drawn. Flying down flight after flight, they reached the ground floor in record time. Slamming through the fire exit, they hopped off the loading dock, then reached up to lower her to the parking lot. From there, it was a matter of seconds before they piled into Matt’s truck and burned rubber.

Jambrea noticed a man in a black trench coat—far too heavy for the lovely weather—shouting to another guy who followed him as he tore along the sidewalk, running toward their vehicle. “Uh, Matt, you might want to floor it. I think someone’s spotted us.”

Clint swiveled his head, acting as his partner’s eyes and ears while the other man concentrated on driving. “Confirmed. No delays now, Matt. Hop the curb if you have to get out of here fast. Jambrea, stay down. Pretty sure they’re armed.”

She grunted when Clint put his hand on the nape of her neck and shoved. Bent like a human pretzel, her head at his lap level, she giggled as she kept her inappropriate thoughts to herself. It was that or cry. Her life had gone from bored-to-death to out-of-control in a single twenty-four hour period.

Sexapaloozas. International men of mystery. Secret codes. Injured friends.

Dead ex-lovers.

She shivered. A keening whimper left her as she thought of poor John. He didn’t deserve that kind of tragic end after all the people he’d served and protected in his lifetime. Certain she’d known his soul, even for a fleeting moment, she prayed for him. Something she rarely did.

These were special circumstances.

“Hang on, wild thing,” Clint shouted. “We’re going to have to swerve around the parking booth and pay the fine later. That or crash through it. Whatever you can do faster and with less chance of blowing a tire, Matt.”

From the pitch of the cab, which knocked her first into Matt then Clint, Jambrea guessed they’d dodged the mechanical arm blocking their path.

“Great. You’re losing them. I don’t see any other pursuers on foot or any suspicious vehicles.” An automated voice followed Clint’s information, doling out curt directions. He’d programmed his GPS with the address Lucas had passed along. The electronic woman guided them down a main street that connected to the highway heading north out of the city.

A few minutes later, Jambrea asked, “Uh, guys, can I get up now or am I in training for mobile BJs down here?”

“Someday, when this is all sorted out, I might take you up on that.” Matt’s fingers pressed on the knots in her spine as he encouraged her to sit up.

“Not while you’re behind the wheel.” Clint shot him a glare. “If anyone’s getting a BJ, it’s me for having to ride along and put up with your crazy stunt driving.”

“Came in handy today, didn’t it?” The guys soothed her, even as they bickered. Familiar routines went a long way toward convincing a tiny part of her brain that everything was mostly normal, give or take a couple people who wanted to kill them.

Well, probably torture them for information,
then
murder them.

She shivered.

“It’s going to be okay, wild thing.” Clint wrapped an arm around her shoulder, careful not to disturb the bandaged section of her arm. “Did you take your medicine before we left?”

“Don’t think it’s smart to be chomping down narcotics right now. It’s okay. I doubled up on my ibuprofen and didn’t skip the antibiotics.” Though she obviously could take care of herself, it was nice to have him looking out for her too. Living on her own for so long had taught her how capable she was of independence, and also how ready she was to surrender a bit of it in exchange for this bond, deeper than friendship. “Although, now that you got me thinking about it…I’m pretty sure the prescriptions were on the bathroom sink. Shit.”