by Autumn Reed
Wounded
“Yes!” I hissed.
My exclamation provoked the ire of several nearby trainees, and I slid lower in my seat, hiding behind the walls of the study carrel. Sequestered in a back corner of the library at the Zenith training center, I’d spent the past two hours hovered over my laptop, searching for clues. With Jackson and Knox accompanying Team Laredo on assignment, and Liam flying out yesterday to assist from the Dallas office, my desire for answers seemed more pertinent than ever.
After telling Jackson about my hunch the other day, I’d finally found something, albeit small. Team Laredo’s track record was near perfect, and I was convinced that many of the reports had been fabricated. There were just enough errors to stay under the radar, but it was always written in such a way as to seem formulaic.
The language for a September assignment was so familiar that I searched some of the phrasing in an earlier Laredo report, and it popped up almost word for word. Then, my computer pinged with additional hits on the intruder’s flash drive—an assignment for a D.C. team; in the files of a highly-skilled team that roamed the country; in a report for a team from Miami.
Comparing the last-modified date for each of the documents, it struck me as suspicious that there were four Laredo reports with the distinctive phrasing, all pre-dating the others. Plus, the other teams only had a hit on one file apiece, leading me to believe that someone associated with Laredo was responsible.
But, why? Why create false reports unless they had something to hide? Was Laredo even going on the assignments reflected in their reports? And, if not, what were they doing?
In a rush to tell Jackson, I shoved my laptop into my tote and fled the library. Once I reached the relative privacy of an outdoor courtyard, I selected his number. The phone rang and rang and rang, finally going to voicemail.
“Hey, Jax. It’s me. I may have found some dirt on Penelope. Give me a call when you can. Oh, and Penny’s good. We miss you.”
I disconnected the call, disappointed I hadn’t reached him. A peek at the clock on my phone told me I needed to hustle if I didn’t want to be late to my next class. And, I made it just in time for the instructor to call the class to order.
After explaining basic tactics in the event of a knife fight, she passed around a box of markers and white T-shirts. We paired off, assuming places around the room in our white shirts. The goal was to mark our opponent as many times as possible without being marked ourselves.
Thirty minutes into the exercise, my opponent had about ten hot pink slashes on her shirt, while I only had a handful on mine. Not bad, but it was a good thing we practiced with markers, not knives. Over the months I’d been enrolled in the program, and training with Knox, my confidence with offensive measures had grown, but every day, every exercise, was a reminder that I still had more to learn.
The classroom door opened and slammed shut, and I glanced in that direction, surprised to find Chase talking with the instructor, his jaw set. I barely dodged my opponent’s marker, distracted as I was by Chase’s appearance and what it could possibly mean. His body was wound tight, and I had to restrain myself from immediately running to him.
“Jones,” my instructor called, waving me over to where they stood.
I jogged across the room, brushing my hair out of my face and wondering what was going on as Chase led me to the hallway. An appearance by any of the guys at the training center was completely unprecedented, and his sullen demeanor did nothing to calm my nerves.
“What’s going on?”
“Haley . . .” His voice cracked, and he pulled me into a hug. I squeezed him back, trying to reassure him, and myself, that everything would be okay. But, I could feel the waves of anxiety rolling off him, and it only compounded my impending sense of doom.
He released me, still holding my forearms as he grimaced. “Jackson was shot, and we leave for Dallas immediately.”
“Shot?” My knees buckled, and Chase steadied me before I could fall.
“He’s in surgery. Theo should have more information by the time we meet him at the airfield.”
“What about Knox?” I needed to know, and my heart hammered in my chest as I awaited his answer.
“He’s a little banged up but fine.”
That was a relief, but it didn’t make up for the fact that Jackson had been shot. With a gun and a bullet that pierced his skin. Still in shock, I followed him to his SUV, thankful Chase was willing to ignore the speed limit for once.
Please let Jax be okay, I chanted over and over in my head, wishing I could will it to be true. I needed to see him, touch him, confirm he was okay.
We climbed the steps to the plane, where Theo was already seated, phone held to one ear. As Chase and I took our seats, all my attention was focused on Theo. I attempted to read him for clues, but he gave nothing away. His eyes were hidden behind wooden Wayfarer sunglasses, lips tight and body rigid.
I wanted to hug him, to feel secure in the knowledge that he was okay, that he was with me, but he needed to concentrate on the call. And, the flight attendant bustled through the cabin making the final preparations for takeoff as Theo ended the call with a terse goodbye. He removed the sunglasses and ran his hands through his hair, reminding me of his brother.
“Was that Knox?” Chase asked, saving me the trouble.
“Liam. Jackson will be in surgery for another hour. The bullet nicked his axillary artery, and he lost a lot of blood. Fortunately, it appears to have gone straight through his shoulder, but it will take time to make the repair.”
Theo continued explaining the details during takeoff, but my mind floated somewhere above my body, not wanting to accept the reality of the situation.
The hum of the engine made my thoughts fuzzy as memories flooded me—everything from the day I met Jackson, to our first date at the aquarium, to our first kiss. At some point, my thoughts shifted from the past to the future, and my imagination ran wild with possible scenarios. What if he didn’t make it?
“Haley.” Chase shook my shoulder.
I stared up at him, lost and looking for an anchor. “I, um, need to use the restroom.”
I felt their eyes on me as I darted to the bathroom, and after locking the door, I slumped against it. The idea of losing Jackson made my heart race, and the image of his strong, beautiful body stretched lifeless over a cold operating table wasn’t helping. Sweat beaded on my forehead, and I heaved over the toilet, my stomach convulsing though nothing came out.
“Haley? Are you okay?” Theo called through the door.
Gulping down air, my attempt at normal ended up sounding overly chipper. “Yep. Be right out.”
I flushed the toilet and splashed water over my face, blotting it dry. When I saw my reflection, I was horrified—unraveled braid, blotchy face, and I still had on the stupid white T-shirt with permanent marker slashes from my “knife fight.”
I yanked the shirt over my head, stuffing it in the trash with more force than was necessary. After re-braiding my hair, I opened the door and unwittingly stumbled into Theo’s arms. I struggled to free myself from his embrace, but he wouldn’t let me go, holding me closer even as I beat my fists against his chest.
Exhausted, I sagged against him.
“It’s okay,” he soothed, rubbing circles on my back while I sobbed in his arms. “He’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t know that,” I cried.
“I have to believe it. He has a great team of doctors and nurses, and he has all of us rooting for him. And, you know Jackson. He’s tough.”
I stared at the giant wet spot on Theo’s chest. “I’m sorry.” I smoothed my hand over the fabric, embarrassed.
He kissed my forehead and led me to my seat.
“How about a drink? Maybe some food?” Chase suggested with concern, placing a fruit and cheese plate and a bottle of water before me.
Even though I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, food was the furthest thing from my mind. But, when Theo glared at me, I nibbled
on a piece of cheese to placate him.
“Where’s Penny?” I panicked, picturing her whimpering before an empty bowl.
“I dropped her off with Jackson’s neighbor on the way. And, I packed you a bag,” Theo answered.
“Thank you.” I swiped away more tears, ignoring the look that passed between Theo and Chase. “When will you know more?”
“Probably not until we land. Liam’s keeping me updated, and I promise to tell you as soon as I hear something.”
I remained silent the rest of the flight, counting the minutes until we’d land, hoping it wouldn’t take long to reach the hospital once we arrived. It had only been a few hours since Chase delivered the news that turned my world upside down, but it felt like a lifetime. The waiting, the worrying, was going to kill me.
* * *
I tiptoed into Jackson’s room, observing him from just inside the door. Shocked by how colorless his face was, how still his body, I brought my fingers to my mouth to stifle a gasp. Only a few days earlier, he’d been full of life, holding me against the wall and kissing me with fervor.
Jackson opened his eyes slowly and gave me a dopey smile. “Miss Jones. Get that sexy ass over here.”
I laughed at his command, too relieved he was awake to even consider being affronted by his words. And then my laughter turned to tears. “Jax . . .”
“Come here.” He patted the bed.
I shook my head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt, schmurt. You’re not going to hurt me,” he drawled.
I gave Jackson my best authoritative stare, but he merely smirked. Finally conceding to his wishes, and unable to resist the closeness I craved, I perched on the edge of the bed.
“How are you?” I smoothed a curl away from his forehead.
“Never been better.” His lips twisted in a wry smile. “Where’s Knox? Is he okay?”
“He’s pacing the hallway like a caged bear. Liam, Theo, and Chase are with him.” I didn’t want to say more and risk falling apart again. Now was not the time to bemoan Knox’s surly demeanor.
“Lucky them.”
“Do you need anything?”
“I need a kiss.”
“Is there ever a time you’re not bossy?” I teased, our mouths inches apart.
“Nope. Now kiss me, woman.”
I pressed my lips to his, letting my every emotion seep into the kiss—the worry, the fear, the love, the hope. There were so many things I wanted to tell him. How important he was to me, how I never could have anticipated the depth of my feelings, and even something as silly as a great book I’d just completed and wanted him to read.
“Knock knock,” Liam called.
I moved to stand, but Jackson kept me at his side while Liam, Chase, Knox, and Theo filed in. Huddled around the bed, I could see the anxiety etched into each of their faces, and I knew it was written on my own.
“Where are my smiley-face balloons and teddy bears?” Jackson chided, clearly attempting to lighten the mood.
“They were fresh out,” Theo responded. “But, we can pick up a fluffy unicorn next time we’re in the gift shop.”
“Nah, I’m good. In fact, I’m ready to go home.” He lifted his head, but it fell back against the pillow.
Liam placed a hand on Jackson’s leg, rubbing his thumb back and forth over the blanket. “Easy there. You’re going to be here a few more days.”
Jackson did his best to keep up a strong front, but after a brief visit, his eyes kept drifting closed, so we took our leave.
“Haley . . .” Jackson said, barely loud enough for me to hear. I hung back to see what he wanted, but by the time I returned to his side, he was snoring softly. I kissed his forehead, wishing I could stay and watch over him through the night.
When I returned to the hallway, Patrick was deep in conversation with a man who had his back to me. Taking in his stature, business attire, and blond hair, I assumed he was someone from Zenith.
“Haley,” Patrick said. There was with a warmth to his voice despite the dark circles under his eyes, and I couldn’t imagine how difficult this ordeal had been for him. “I’m so glad you’re here. You remember Kenneth James, the D.C. regional director?” Kenneth turned to face me, taking my hand in his, a sad smile on his face.
“Yes, of course. Nice to see you, Mr. James.” Even with everything else going on, I couldn’t help remembering what Patrick told me about Kenneth’s past. Did seeing Jackson—the son of one of his closest friends—injured remind him of what happened to his sister? Did he still carry the pain of her kidnapping and murder around with him? His somber expression told me he did.
“Kenneth and the other regional directors are in town for the debriefing, and he wanted to check on Jax.”
Not wishing to interrupt them further, I asked where the guys had disappeared to, and Patrick directed me to the family waiting room. Knox had already left the hospital, and his sullen behavior made me wonder what happened in the field. We were all upset that Jackson had been shot, but Knox was clearly taking it the hardest.
Theo and Liam left to pick up pizza on the way to the hotel, where Chase and I would meet them. It had been an exhausting, whirlwind of a day, and I was ready to sit and watch TV, do something normal. Chase held my hand in his, and for the first time since he’d delivered the news about Jackson, I felt like I could breathe.
In a daze, I was thankful Chase seemed to know where he was going, navigating the labyrinth of hallways to the exit. But, when a familiar face with glasses and chestnut hair rounded the corner, I did a double take.
“Ethan?” I questioned, my voice scarcely above a whisper.
He smirked, unfazed by our appearance. Before I could ask what he was doing here, he looked to me and asked, “Does this mean you took my advice?”
I shook my head out of sheer disbelief—that he was here, that he had the gall to ask me that—and not in response to his question. He didn’t deserve a response.
Chase looked between us, and I realized with regret that between my fight with Jess, the drama with Chase over open mic night, and now Jackson getting shot, I’d failed to mention my lunch with Ethan. Maybe I needed to go back to my life of seclusion. It was much simpler.
“I guess a one-fifth share of Haley is better than nothing,” Ethan mused. “Although—” Before he could finish his next statement, Chase’s fist collided with his face.
“Fuck.” Ethan reeled backwards, cupping his cheek protectively. I grabbed Chase’s arm and pulled him toward the door.
“I can’t believe I was ever friends with that asshat. He has no right to insult you or our relationship.” He shook out his hand, and I knew it had to hurt. He’d delivered quite the blow.
“You didn’t need to do that. Ethan’s opinion doesn’t matter.” I wasn’t certain whether I was lying. His opinion had mattered enough a few days ago to make me question everything. Maybe now I was just determined to ensure it didn’t.
When we arrived at the hotel room, Theo appraised Chase's hand. "What’s with the ice?”
“We had a little run in with Ethan at the hospital,” Chase answered through gritted teeth.
"What was the rat bastard doing there? Don't tell me he brought Jackson flowers."
"Theodore," I scolded.
"Fine, here's money for the swear jar." He handed me a five-dollar bill before returning his attention to Chase.
"Your guess is as good as mine.”
Knox stared at the TV, and Liam joined him at the other end of the couch. "He saved Jax’s life.”
We all turned to stare at Liam, slack-jawed, and he had the audacity to bite into his pizza as if he’d said nothing out of the ordinary. “Damn, Cane Rosso makes an amazing pizza. This crust—”
“Whoa, whoa,” Theo interrupted. “Back the bus up. You can’t make a statement like that and not explain. Knox, is that true? What happened?”
Knox sighed, and I knew he was wrung out. Watching his best friend get shot had to be difficult enough; I
couldn’t imagine reliving it.
He spoke in a monotone without meeting our eyes. “We located the abandoned warehouse, where the kidnapping victim was being held. The plan was to infiltrate and extract the girl without alerting her captors. Then, once we got her to safety, we would quickly and quietly disarm the bastards and leave them for the authorities.
“Two of Laredo’s guys were stationed outside while the other, Drake, was inside with me and Jax. Out of nowhere,” he ground out, “Drake opened fire, calling attention to our presence. Shots rang out in retaliation, and before I realized what was happening, Jax shoved the girl out of the way, collapsing on the floor with blood pooling beneath him.
“The captors fled, and the Laredo guys were yelling at each other as I called for a medevac. Jax was losing a lot of blood, and no matter what I tried, I couldn’t seem to put enough pressure on the wound to staunch it. Then, as if by magic, Ethan appeared and took over. He devised a way to at least stop the bleeding until the medical team arrived.” He shook his head, as if doing so would erase the images. “I was so shocked by Ethan’s appearance, I started to wonder if I’d imagined it.”
Chase groaned and buried his head in his hands as I tried to wrap my head around everything Knox told us.
“How did he know where you were?” Theo asked.
“Ethan is somehow connected to Team Laredo and another rogue team.”
“Rogue team?” I asked. “What does that even mean?”
“Now you know as much as I do.”
Theo scoffed. “So, Ethan betrays us, jumps ship to join a ‘rogue team,’ then saves Jackson’s life? None of that makes sense, especially considering all the bad blood between them.”
Knox shrugged, his face blank, but I saw a vein twitch in his neck. “Yeah, I know. I’m hoping we’ll get some fucking answers, but with Ethan, I doubt it.”
“Is the girl okay?” I asked hesitantly.