International Guy: Volume 4

by Carlan, Audrey

  “Nate?” Skyler mouths to me.

  “He’s alive,” I say out loud, and Rachel jolts and sobs against my neck.

  After a few minutes, she finally eases her face back, wipes at her nose and eyes, and clears her throat. “I’m sorry.”

  I frown. “Sorry for what? Being human? Needing your friends?”

  Skyler runs her hand up and down Rachel’s back. “We’re here for you. I’m just so, so, so sorry this happened . . . It’s all my—”

  “Don’t you dare say it’s your fault,” Rachel snaps, her tone filled to the brim with anger. “The only person responsible for my husband being hooked up to machines fighting for his damn life is the evil that created a bomb and attached it to your man’s door. Nathan and I take risks in this job. Every day we are committed to taking a hit if that’s what’s needed to protect our charge. We take all the precautions possible, which is why he’s still alive.” She looks down and away as if she’s seeing something off in the distance or remembering something.

  Her gaze unfocused, she continues. “He must have heard the click of the timer when he unlocked the door. If he hadn’t run, all of us could have been dead or hurt far worse. My husband took the brunt of that explosion . . . and I’m proud. I’m so proud of him for doing what he could to warn us, to give us the time to react.” Her voice shakes, and a tremor wracks her frame. She sniffs and lifts her chin up in a move showing her strength and resolve.

  Skyler bites her lip and nods, obviously so overcome with sadness she’s unable to respond.

  “What did the doctors say?” I grab Rachel’s hand and hold it between both of mine. Skyler grabs her other hand and mimics my gesture.

  She inhales fully and then lets it out slowly. “They said he arrested twice on the table, but they were able to bring him back. He had a collapsed and punctured lung they needed to repair but that wasn’t the biggest problem. It was the shrapnel in his back and the blood loss. It perforated one of his kidneys, the intestines, and a small portion of the stomach, plus demolished his spleen. They removed the spleen, patched up the stomach and kidney, and had to remove a section of his intestines. What we didn’t realize was that his back was burned pretty badly as well, so they treated those wounds and have him in a medically induced coma. They don’t plan to take him out of the coma for at least the next couple of days. His body needs the time to heal.”

  “So, he’s going to be okay?” Skyler asks with a hint of hope in her voice.

  Rachel shrugs. “They told me it would be touch and go for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours, but they’re doing everything they can.” She swallows, and her voice shakes as she continues. “They said he’s a fighter . . . and he is. He’ll fight to come back to me.”

  Skyler pulls Rachel into her arms and holds her as she breaks down once more.

  “Do you need us to call anyone?” I feel useless lying in a hospital bed like an invalid.

  Rachel sits back up and wipes at her tears. “I’ve spoken with his mother. Their clan will be flying to Boston tomorrow.”

  “What about you?” I ask.

  “I’ll be fine.” She continues to wipe at her tears. “The nurses rolled in a cot for me. I’m going to watch over him, sleep by his side so he’ll know I’m there.”

  I nod. “Skyler could come with you,” I offer, even though I don’t want Sky anywhere outside of my line of sight.

  Rachel shakes her head. “No. No. Sky has to be watched over too. Paul is still out there holding court. Big guy.” She smiles briefly. “He said he’ll be taking care of you while Nate and I are laid up.”

  “Yeah, is that okay?” Skyler says, always worried about everyone else over herself.

  Rachel chuckles through her emotions and cups Sky’s cheek. “Nate would be so angry if anything happened to you. The best thing you can do for Nate or me right now is to stay safe. And that guy out there”—she points to the door—“is a professional. I have no worries with you under his watch. How about you, Parker? What did the doctors say?” She glances at the bandage on my head. “Skyler screamed her lungs out when you blacked out and hit your head.”

  I lift my hand and rub my fingers over the goose egg I’m sporting. “Yeah, well, my head is harder than it looks.” I wink at her, and she nods.

  “Now that I believe.”

  “They’re just keeping me overnight for observation. Concussion, stitches, a knot on the back of my head, and bruised ribs and sternum, but because of your husband and his heroics, I’m going to be fine.”

  Rachel’s jaw firms, and there’s a tic in her cheek. “He’d be happy to know he gave us the time to back up.”

  “We’ll visit with him tomorrow when I’m set free.”

  On that note, Rachel stands and rubs at her arms. “Thank you, guys. I’m really glad you both are okay. It’s a small comfort knowing that we did our job.”

  Skyler hugs Rachel again and whispers something in her ear. Rachel nods and looks Skyler in the eye for a long time before she squeezes her hand and slips out of the room.

  “What did you say to her?”

  “I told her that once Nate is back in top form, we’ll be celebrating at our new house and that I fully expect to have Nate and Rachel back as my security team the moment he’s better. Told her to look forward to moving into her own new home.”

  “Good.” I reach out, and Skyler moves into my space. I scoot over to the side the best I can and pat the empty space at my hips.

  Skyler grins and eases onto the bed, gets under my crappy hospital blanket, and snuggles against my bruised chest. I bite back a groan until the pain subsides once she’s settled. I suck in a large breath and rest my chin on the crown of her head.

  We stay that way for so long I think she may have fallen asleep until a tired yawn escapes her lips and she says, “Speaking of homes . . . we no longer have one.”

  “Sure you do!” a chipper voice says from the doorway as Wendy saunters in, carrying a bag. She ignores our confused faces as she pulls out a bundle of clothing from the bag. Once she’s laid out the items, I note a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that I recognize. She puts them in the cabinet along with what looks like a pair of burgundy boxer briefs and a rolled-up pair of socks. Then she hangs a flowery sundress that I know I saw Skyler wear on our trip to Madrid. “Hope you don’t mind that I had our housekeeper go through your bags. She washed all your clothes except for the unmentionables, which she washed by hand, then took the dry-cleanable items out for cleaning. The rest she unpacked in one of the suites in our McMansion.” Wendy closes the cabinet and wipes her hands like she’s dusting them off. “There. All situated for release tomorrow. Our driver will be here at the ready to bring you home.”

  “Home?” Skyler drawls, sleep clouding her tone as Mick saunters into the room.

  “You’re moving in with us until your house is ready. It makes the most sense. We have tons of room, and as you stated, the security in our community is like Fort Knox. I have also contacted your Realtor and asked what it would take to speed the process up. They’ve agreed to get you in the house within the next two weeks. Since you’re paying cash in full, the escrow process can be sped up.”

  Skyler sits up, sleep leaving her instantly. “Really? We’re going to move into our home in two weeks?”

  Wendy grins huge and loops her arm around Mick’s waist. “My man is the shit.”

  “Cherry, how many times have I told you that the colloquialism the shit makes absolutely no sense. To be the shit you’d have to be shit, which therefore makes the entire statement a false positive. Essentially meaningless.”

  She pouts. “Then you’re the bomb!”

  Skyler cringes and I wince.

  “Oh . . .” Wendy’s expression falls into one of chagrin. “That wasn’t good timing.”

  Mick turns her chin and kisses her lips softly before tapping her nose. “You’re adorable. And your friends get the point. Alas, they are probably very tired. You’ve dropped off their clothes, told them abo
ut their home, settled where they will be living as of tomorrow—I think it’s time you give them space to rest.”

  “But . . . I don’t like being away . . .”

  He holds her chin. “Cherry . . . Parker and Skyler are fine. See.” He eases her face toward us using one finger. “They are right there. They have a very large soldier guarding their door. One I’m confident could do severe damage when pressed. You have nothing to worry about.”

  Wendy pouts, and I can see her bottom lip tremble. Ah, my minxy is scared. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asks me.

  “I got my girl with me; you’ve provided us with a place to stay. Thank you for that.”

  “Yes, thank you so much,” Skyler adds.

  “We’ll be fine, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Wendy nods, and Mick leads her toward the door. “Sleep as well as you can. I’m very glad to see you are both safe.”

  On his words, Wendy breaks from his arms and rushes over to the hospital bed, where she leans over and kisses me on the forehead and then does the same to Skyler. “Don’t freak me out like that ever again. I don’t do well with getting phone calls saying my friends were blown up.”

  I grab her hand and squeeze it, letting my eyes tell her how much her concern means to me. “We don’t like it either.”

  “Try not to do that again,” she teases as she walks out the door, her man’s arm hooked around her waist.

  Skyler chuckles and cuddles back against me. I groan and hiss when she digs her shoulder into my sternum but hold her tight until she settles once more.

  “I’m hurting you,” she says tightly, her body a live wire ready to snap.

  “You’re doing no such thing.” I rub my hand up and down her arm until she relaxes. “You being close, my skin touching yours, inhaling your peaches-and-cream scent, heals me. Don’t ever doubt the power you have over me, Peaches. Now go to sleep. We have a lot to deal with tomorrow.”

  “Okay, honey,” she says against my chest, and I can feel the exact moment her body fully relaxes. My girl is out cold, exhaustion taking over.

  Closing my eyes, I ignore the ringing that has definitely lessened since I’ve been awake but not gone away completely.

  With Skyler in my arms, my brother at my door guarding us, and Nate looking like he’ll make it, I let the pain meds and fatigue take me off to dreamland too.

  3

  SKYLER

  Motion in the room has me opening my eyes. A nurse is adjusting something on a stand next to Parker’s bed. It looks like she’s changing out one of the clear bags that are giving him fluids.

  The nurse smiles softly and puts her hand up to her lips, making the universal gesture for keeping quiet. I nod and ease up and away from the bed. Parker’s hands tighten around me, and he wakes instantly.

  “Where you going?” he mumbles sleepily.

  “Gotta go to the bathroom.”

  “You’ll need to use the restroom outside.” The nurse points to the door. “We’re monitoring his urine output, and the bathroom in the room is for patients only.”

  I roll my eyes and maneuver out of the bed. “I’ll be back.”

  Parker yawns. “Make my brother go with you.”

  “’K, honey.” I run my fingers down the bandage-free side of his face, loving more than anything that he’s alive and I can do this. After almost losing him, I know with every fiber of my being that this is the face I want to wake up to every morning, the face I want to fall asleep by every night. He’s it for me.

  Parker James Ellis is the one.

  He may not be perfect, but he’s perfect for me. I smile as he closes his eyes, and I leave the room, blinking at the brightness of the hallway.

  Paul is standing guard, his hands behind his back clasped at his crossed forearms, legs apart in a wide stance, looking positively menacing . . . and sexy as all get-out. The man absolutely knows how to work a pair of camos.

  Instead of speaking, he does a chin lift that basically asks “What’s up?” without having to actually say it. Totally hot-guy soldier. I get how that vibe would work for a lot of women . . . or in his case, his man, Dennis.

  Before I can say anything, I hear someone yelling, “There you are! My God, Sky! What the hell!” I turn and see Tracey storming down the hospital hallway, almost as loud as a bullhorn in the middle of the freakin’ night.

  As I’m about to approach her, mostly to get her to be quiet so as not to wake the ailing patients, Paul maneuvers me behind his back with one muscular arm, his other hand on the holstered gun under his arm. “Stay back,” he growls.

  I’m not sure if that is meant for me or Tracey.

  “Back off, Rambo; that’s my best friend you’ve got.”

  “Stop right fucking there or I pull my gun. Do not test me, lady.” His voice is a deep rumble, like thunder announcing an impending storm. Paul is an impenetrable wall in front of me, his body language threatening and every muscle strung tight as a drum, ready for any action.

  Tracey’s eyes go wide, and she stops in her tracks. I come up behind Paul’s back and tap his shoulder. Without looking at me, he rumbles, “You got somethin’ to say, sis, you say it, but you do so from behind me. Got it?”

  “Sis? She is not your family, Sylvester. Back away,” Tracey demands, and tries to go around him. Bad idea. Paul is unfazed, both protective and foreboding at the same time when he extends the beefy arm that was holding me back, stopping her with his hand on her chest.

  “Paul, honey, she really is my best friend and agent.” For now. I think that part in my head but don’t say it. Now is not the time to deal with my rocky relationship with Tracey.

  “I don’t know; she looks a little wild eyed. Don’t go too far.” Paul removes his hand from his gun and moves to the side but remains close enough that he can react if there is a problem.

  “I’m fine.” I wave him off, but he doesn’t look convinced.

  “What the hell is going on? I texted you fifteen billion times,” Tracey says sourly.

  I pull my phone out of my back pocket and note the multiple texts and voice mails, the first around the time of the explosion.

  “How did you find me?” I frown, my head buzzing with the need for more sleep, and my bladder screaming, reminding me why I got up in the first place.

  “Are you kidding me? Your penthouse catches fire, your boyfriend’s apartment blows up, and you don’t call your best friend? I’ve been here for hours trying to hunt you down, but no one would say a thing. I just happened to get up to use the restroom, and there you are.” She puts her arms around me. “It’s okay, Birdie, I’m here now.”

  And it does feel good to be in my friend’s arms. I hug her back.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she says while rubbing her hands up and down my back. “It will be okay. I’ll take care of you. You know I’m always going to be here to take care of you.”

  God, I’m so tired, I can barely follow what she’s saying. “Wait . . . What? My loss. You mean my house?” I struggle to put two and two together as I pull away.

  She grabs me back and holds me tighter. “No, your man. He died in that explosion, right? I’m so sorry. I know how much you cared for him.”

  I shake my head, feeling like cobwebs are coating every synapse that’s trying to fire. “No. No.” I push back. “Parker’s fine. I mean . . . he’s hurt but he’s fine.”

  Her eyes narrow for a moment before she smiles wide. “Oh, thank God! I’ll bet you’re so relieved. Then . . . oh my, did your bodyguard die? That was one hell of an explosion. I saw the hole it left behind.”

  “No. Nate’s . . . Well, he almost died. Technically did die in surgery a couple of times, but we’re hopeful that he’s going to pull through.”

  Her lips tighten as she nods. “Yes, yes, that’s so good. Still, Birdie, I’m here for you. We can fly you back home to New York and get you settled once again. And I’ll be there. Staying with you until everything goes back to normal.”

  My
bladder takes this moment to remind me that I really do have to go. “Follow me to the restroom.” I hook my arm in hers and head down the hall. Paul follows close behind until I hear a snapping sound behind me, and all of a sudden, there’s Bo, jumping out of a blue cushioned hospital chair in the waiting room.

  “You’ve got the door,” Paul rumbles, and gestures to Parker’s door. Bo promptly goes over to Parker’s room and leans against the wall outside.

  “Paul, we’re in the hospital; it’s two in the morning. No one is going to get me here. You don’t have to follow me to the bathroom.”

  He huffs. “I’m not the one who almost got blown up. How’s about you start to understand the phrase ‘I’m on you.’ Which means, you don’t go anywhere I don’t know about, with anyone I don’t know. This woman, I don’t know, but since Bo didn’t balk at the two of you arm in arm, it means he does know her.”

  “I told you, Private Ryan.” Tracey uses another mocking name for Paul that makes me grind my teeth in irritation. “I’m her best friend. I also happen to be her agent. Which means you can run along.” She tries to wave off Parker’s brother, a huge mass of sinew and muscle. A special ops soldier who I know does all kinds of scary things that most people wouldn’t dream of.

  “You have no clue what you’ve stepped into, lady.” Paul narrows his gaze at Tracey, and I can see things are getting well and truly twisted between them.

  She laughs haughtily, takes two steps forward, and gets in Paul’s face, her voice dropping an octave. “You think I don’t know what you do, who you are? I can see it all over your face. Career military. Probably special ops. I know the type. My father was you forty years ago. And I was a daddy’s girl. He taught me everything he knows. I’m sure you’re running through all the possible scenarios on how you could break me using only one hand so you could get Skyler out of reach with the other. You’re a meathead. A gun for hire. A trained killer. The difference between me and everyone else you attempt to scare is this: I’m. Not. Afraid. Of. You.”