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Authors: Dixie Lee Brown

BOOK: Whatever It Takes
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“What?” Dread filled his stomach. Was she hearing angels singing or something?

“It’s a . . . chopper. Hear it?”

Nate couldn’t hear anything except his heart beating in his ears, but to satisfy her, he slowed the car and rolled the window down. At first, he heard nothing, but a moment later, the sound reached his ears, and he tried to determine where it was coming from. He skidded to a stop, jumped out, and scanned the sky. When he spotted the Huey, it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

He scrambled back in the seat, turned the car around, and raced for the field behind the house. “Stay with me, Alex. You hang in there. I need you, damn it.” Her eyes were closed, but Nate squeezed her hand. “I’m right here. Don’t leave me, Alex.”

She twisted to look at him, her eyes clouded with pain. “Not going anywhere . . . without you. I’m staying.”

“Yes, you are. You hear me?” She wasn’t going to die. He wouldn’t let her. She’d finally found her reason for living. What kind of God would take her now?

The chopper landed in the field, and when the Mustang came careening toward them, lights flashing and horn honking, it couldn’t have been a big leap for them to recognize something was wrong.

Jim and Walker sprinted toward them. Nate lifted Alex out of the car and raced across the field. He didn’t need to say a word. The sheer volume of blood covering Alex said it all. If Jim, or anyone else, wanted to kick the crap out of him for his role in nearly getting her killed . . . he’d take his punishment like a man. He’d have to tell them how he’d failed to keep her safe, and he wasn’t looking forward to that, but with the chopper, they’d get her to a hospital in time.

 

Chapter 22

N
ATE BARELY REGISTERED
the shock on the faces around him or their worried whispering. Walker asked what happened as he jumped in to help stem the flow of blood, but Nate had no time for explanations, or for wondering why Joe and the others had suddenly reappeared in his field. Maintaining eye contact with Alex to make sure she stayed with him and whispering words of love and encouragement was what he needed to focus on. Everything else could wait.

Ty called ahead, and ten minutes later, there were two techs, an emergency room nurse, and a gurney waiting on the roof of the hospital when the chopper set down on one of two landing pads. Alex was in and out of consciousness as they moved her expertly from his arms to the gurney and rushed her toward the elevator. He’d seen these ­people work miracles before, but still he couldn’t let loose of Alex’s hand until Joe grabbed his shoulder.

“We should let them work.” Joe’s voice was calm, and as bad as the guilt gnawed at Nate, he saw only sympathy in Joe’s eyes.

Nate squeezed Alex’s hand and laid it carefully on her stomach. He watched her until the elevator door closed behind her and then reached for his cell phone.

Walker stepped up beside him and let out a sigh. “She’s as tough as they come. Once she gets healed up, we’ll get her some help, and she’ll be okay.”

Nate nodded even though Walker’s words, combined with everything else that was swirling in his brain, left him feeling uneasy. Besides, false promises and false hope weren’t his style. He was used to
making
things turn out the way he wanted them, but this scenario was beyond his abilities. Therein lay the reason for his helplessness, his frustration, and his self-­reproach.

From the corner of his eye, he caught Rayna and Ty heading his direction, but he turned away, dialed quickly, and put the phone to his ear. They probably only wanted to reassure him, but he couldn’t take much more well-­meaning concern if he was going to keep it together.

“Hey, Cap. It’s Sanders.”

“Thought when you left here today you were on vacation indefinitely?” His superior’s voice was gruff, as usual. He liked his men to think he was a hard-­ass.

“There’s been an incident at my house. Daniels, a ­couple of his hoodlums, and a guy by the name of Hu Sun. They’re all dead.”

“What the hell happened?”

“I’m at the hospital, Gene. A friend of mine was hurt and I need to stay here until I know she’ll be all right. Then I’ll come in and answer all your questions.” His job should come first. He was aware, but in this case it didn’t, and the captain would just have to live with that.

Gene was quiet for a moment. “Wouldn’t be your friend, Alex Morgan, would it?”

Nate swallowed hard, but he couldn’t force the affirmative answer out.

A rare bit of compassion softened Gene’s voice. “I’ll get homicide out there. Take as long as you need, son.”

The captain ended the call, and Nate turned back to the chopper. Joe was the only one still there, and he was securing the final tie-­down. Nate resettled his cap on his brow and strode across the roof toward him. Might as well get this over with. Nothing would make him feel any worse and maybe unburdening himself of the shame would take some weight off his chest.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

Joe stopped in front of him and a deep sadness etched lines in his face. “I’m the one who rescued her from that cesspool in Hong Kong. It was my idea to take her home and put her on the team. That makes me responsible, and I’d never have let her stay with you if I’d had any idea this would happen. She was doing well, and being with you seemed to help. I didn’t plan to drop in on you again until you’d both had some time to see if this would work. The only reason we came back this way was because Jim forgot his weapon.”

Nate shifted his stance, hands on hips, his mouth part way open. Where the hell was Joe going with this? He couldn’t possibly have known what would happen.

Joe glanced toward the city skyline. “I had no idea she’d try to harm herself. Maybe I should have, but she finally seemed content.”

Nate’s jaw dropped the rest of the way as he realized what Joe was saying. He leaned against the helicopter and ran a hand through his hair. Of course! Joe would think Alex tried to kill herself—­they all would. Slit wrists were a pretty good indication. Hell! Nate would have believed it, too, after Jim forced her confession on the way to Diego’s—­if the nightmare with Hu Sun hadn’t played out in front of him.

“No, no, no . . . you’ve got it all wrong.” Nate shook his head as he started to pace. The real story was so bizarre, maybe no one would believe him.

One of Joe’s eyebrows raised in a perplexed frown.

“She didn’t do it. I mean . . . she did, but it wasn’t her idea. It’s my fucking fault she’s in there. I should have seen it coming.” Nate stopped, frustration churning his gut. He inhaled deeply. “Want to get some coffee?” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder toward the elevator.

“Yeah, I think we better.” Joe fell in beside him.

“I want to check on Alex first.”

“The doctors have a lot of work to do. It’ll be a while. Anyway, Walker gave them your cell number. They’ll text you as soon as she’s settled in a room.”

They found the hospital cafeteria, paid for coffee, poured their own, and took a table near the back. Nate’s hands shook when he tried to hold his cup.

“You could stand to see a doctor yourself.” Joe studied him over the top of his coffee.

Nate glanced down at his clothes and grimaced. He’d taken a knife across the top of his shoulder, and the wound had bled pretty good. Cracking his head on one of the posts by the gate was only a vague memory, but probably accounted for his throbbing headache. “I’m all right. I’ll clean up later.” Silence stretched for an awkward moment.

Joe set his cup down. “So . . . what were you saying about Alex?”

Nate told the whole story, every gruesome detail brought about by his carelessness and haste. He’d been in a hurry to get home after finishing up at the precinct, and because he wasn’t paying attention, almost caused her death. If she hadn’t fought the effects of the drug and slit her own wrists to make Hu Sun believe she was under his control, they’d both be dead.

Joe listened quietly, his forearms resting on the table, fingers intertwined. His expression gave away nothing of what he was thinking.

When Nate finally stopped talking, Joe sat back. “I knew she’d get the bastard someday. Now she can start to heal. What happened is bad enough, but she’ll be all right.”

Nate focused his attention on his coffee cup and tried to ignore the accusing voices in his head.

Joe leaned forward again. “Want a little unsolicited advice?”

Nate gave him the floor with a swish of his hand.

“Stop blaming yourself. We’ve all made our share of mistakes—­done things we wished we’d done differently. Sometimes it turns out okay . . . and sometimes it doesn’t. No amount of blaming yourself ever changes anything. You need to let it go. Alex needs you. She deserves the best that you can give her, but no one expects you to be perfect.”

Nate scowled. “A man should be able to take care of his woman.”

“I agree, but do yourself a favor and don’t say that to Alex. I cringe to think what
she’d
have to say in reply.” Joe grinned.

Nate snorted a laugh, then dug for his phone as it started to vibrate, and read the message. “She’s in room three twenty-­four. The doctor will be there shortly to talk to her family. Oh hell. They’ve put her on suicide watch.”

Joe shoved his chair back. “Can’t blame them. We’ll get it straightened out.” He grinned again. “They want to talk to her family, huh? You want me to pretend to be her brother, or do you want to be her fiancé?”

Nate stood and tossed down a ­couple of bills for the busboy. “What do
you
think?”

Joe chuckled as he fell in beside Nate, and they went in search of an elevator to take them to the third floor.

The doctor explained in detail how many stitches it had taken to suture the arteries and the underlying layers of muscle. Nate might have been horrified, except he stopped paying attention right after the doctor said she’d lost a lot of blood but
she’ll be all right.
He tried to get back on track and listen closely to the part about the care she would need, the physical therapy, and the possibility of permanent nerve damage, but his gaze was continually drawn through the door of her room to where, for the second time in a week, she lay, limp, pale, and very small, surrounded by every beeping machine known to man.

When the doctor finished and left them standing in the hall, Joe clapped him on the shoulder. “Go sit with her. I’m going to find the others and fill them in on what really happened. Do you think your boss might be able to do something about that suicide watch?”

“Good idea. I’ll give him a call.” As soon as Joe strode away, Nate dialed his cell phone. He was surprised by how easy it was to get the captain to understand Alex’s situation and agree to help any way he could. No doubt it was the spell that Alex had cast over Captain Morris that night in the bar. He smiled and shook his head as he shoved the phone back in his pocket.

Nate stepped slowly to the side of her bed. Both wrists, and most of her hands, were covered in bandages. Her lips appeared full-­blown red in contrast to her pale skin, and black circles underlined both eyes. But the rise and fall of her chest with each shallow breath assured him she was alive.

He looked around for a chair, dragged one to the side of the bed, and sat. Leaning over, he placed his hand on her stomach. “I’m here, darlin’. I’m going to be here until you wake up.” Of course, she couldn’t hear him, but just in case, it wouldn’t hurt for her to know she wouldn’t be alone . . . ever.

For the next ­couple of hours, Nate lounged in the chair, in various positions, and studied Alex, then the machines, then the ­people who came and went in the hallway, then his watch, then Alex again. If she didn’t wake soon, he would go stir-­crazy. Alternately, he stood and paced, but didn’t wander far from her side.

Jim paced similarly outside in the hall, pausing in front of the open door periodically to let his gaze wander over Alex. Nate counted his passes for a while, but then lost track. Worried frustration marred Jim’s calm visage. Clearly, he wouldn’t be convinced his friend was okay until she woke. Joe had passed the real story along to the team, and everyone, including Marco, was out there somewhere, waiting to see her. He could discern the relief on their faces that their friend’s wounds hadn’t been inflicted on purpose. They’d also made it clear over the last ­couple of hours that they didn’t hold him responsible. Now if he could only stop blaming himself.

He’d seriously underestimated the danger posed by Daniels. The results had been worse than anything he could have imagined. He couldn’t help wondering what was in that notebook Daniels had gone to so much trouble to retrieve. It would no doubt be very interesting reading. As soon as Alex was back on her feet, he would tear Uncle Leo’s house and grounds apart until he found the cause of all the trouble.

The worst thing about the waiting was the hatchet job it did on his psyche. Cops had to be self-­assured and about half arrogant. It came with the job. Alex might very well decide she’d had enough of him
taking care of her
and go home with Joe. Truthfully, Nate wouldn’t blame her, but it wouldn’t make it any easier to say good-­bye.

When they went after Marco, Alex had asked Nate to give her a chance—­to allow her to be part of the mission. In spite of everything he’d wanted from her, that was the one thing she’d asked of him—­

He shot to his feet.
Holy shit! I have to talk to Jim!

A
LE
X AWOKE TO
strange sounds and antiseptic smells. There was something familiar, though—­something that kept her from being afraid. Nate was there. One of his hands warmed her hip, and his head rested on her elbow. She didn’t need to, but she opened her eyes and confirmed his presence.

The pain was gone, which meant she was probably on some narcotic painkiller. Each wrist was bound in yards of gauze reaching halfway up her forearms. She’d done the unthinkable . . . cutting her own wrists at Hu Sun’s command, in spite of the shock and horror she’d seen in Nate’s eyes. Resisting the drug had been easy, just as she’d learned to do all those years ago. The hard part had been getting Hu Sun to believe she was under his control. Hopefully, Nate would understand and forgive her.

He raised his head and met her gaze. Concern and something that could only be love stared back at her with unwavering intensity. A tingle started at the base of her spine, setting her nerves on fire as it traveled the length of her. She fidgeted and glanced down at his hands where he touched her.

“Is Hu Sun dead?” She leaned her head back on the pillow. Good grief. What a stupid way to start a conversation with the man she loved.

“Your aim was dead-­on. You won’t have to worry about him ever again. I didn’t have time to retrieve your dagger but I’ll get it back from the homicide detectives.” Nate trailed his fingers across her stomach and hooked them over her left hip.

“That’s okay. I don’t need it anymore. Hu Sun was the one who first put it in my hand. It’s only right he get it back.” The man who’d changed her life in ways too hideous to contemplate was dead. She was free. Strangely, her happiness didn’t flow from that knowledge. It emanated from the loving touch of the man beside her. Tears prickled behind her eyelids.

Alex picked her hands up and studied the wrappings. “I made a mess of things again, didn’t I?”

A growl erupted from Nate’s throat and he stood, pushing his chair back. He leaned over her, his hands braced alongside her shoulders. Gently, lovingly, he brushed kisses on her forehead, her nose, and then concentrated on her lips.

There was so much tenderness in his ministrations, tears formed in her eyes and she didn’t even care.

Eventually, he sat beside her on the bed. “I know what you did for us, and although I don’t agree with your methods, I’m pretty sure we wouldn’t have walked out of there otherwise.” He gently caressed her bandaged wrists. “The cost to you was unimaginable, and I’m going to spend every day for the rest of my life trying to make it up to you . . . if you’ll let me.”

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