Chosen

by Denise Grover Swank

  He moved in front of her, sincerity in his eyes. “Emma, I don’t have any real answers. I wish I did. Maybe it’s this goddamned mark. Maybe it’s that I find you to be the most irritating, sexy woman I’ve ever met. You keep me on my toes and you don’t take any shit from me.”

  Tears blurred her eyes and she looked away. Will put his hand under her chin and gently turned it back to face him.

  “I’m not done yet. You asked me why. There’s not one why. There’s a bunch of whys. You’re a good mother who gave up her entire life for her son to keep him safe. I think how amazing it would be if you gave me half that amount of devotion. Even now, your life in danger, you refuse to believe he is dead and you’re determined to find him. I feel this overwhelming urge to protect you and to keep you safe. I don’t know why, I only know it’s there. When you were in the tree and I heard gunshots and I thought you might… I couldn’t even let myself think it. And when that man almost shot you by the rocks… Emma.” He pulled her against his chest and rested his cheek the top of her head. “I don’t know why I feel this way, I only know that I do.”

  The answers he gave were more than she expected and it amazed her that they were enough. The scent of his sweat mixed with the rusty odor of blood on his shirt drove home the deeds he committed because of her. “You’ve killed so many men because of me. I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve killed many more and for less worthy causes.” His lips found her and she realized how lucky she was to have him.

  He pulled back and smiled. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  Emma gave him a tentative smile. She had no choice but to trust him for now.

  Will kept his arm around her back and turned back to the cabin then froze. She didn’t have time to react before she heard the gunfire.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Will noticed a movement to his right. A man stood about thirty feet away with a handgun pointed at them. Will pushed Emma down to the ground, covering her body with his, but not before he heard the shots. His rifle was already up and shooting as they fell. The gunman took cover and disappeared.

  “Are you okay?” Will asked.

  “Yeah, I think so.” She lay face down, muffling her voice.

  “Stay down, crawl behind a tree, and wait for me. I’m going to get that son of a bitch.” Will was furious. He thought he’d gotten them all.

  Will rolled off Emma, chasing after the man who took off toward the cabin. The gunman was in the clearing, almost to the SUV, when Will caught up to him. Later, he admitted to himself that he shot the man more times than was necessary. But it appeased his need to make sure he was good and dead. Satisfied, he walked back to Emma.

  A suffocating fear gripped him when he reached the spot he left her. A trail of blood disappeared behind a tree.

  “Emma?”

  He ran to the tree and found her sitting with her back against it, her legs extended. Her shaking hands pressed against her bloody left leg. Her face was ashen. “We have a bit of a problem,” her voice cracked and she gave him a weak smile.

  Will dropped to his knees and gently moved her hands away to reveal a bloody hole in her jeans. “Oh, Emma.”

  “Yeah, I think I got shot.” She leaned her head back against the tree, closing her eyes.

  Will pulled out a pocketknife and cut open her jeans to look at the wound. There was an entry wound but no exit, which meant the bullet was still in her leg. He didn’t think it had hit her femoral artery, but there was a lot of blood and no doubt she needed medical attention. He stripped off his t-shirt and tied it around her leg.

  “There you go again, taking off your clothes,” she said, watching him through a half-open eye.

  “Got to show you what you’re getting, package deal.” His voice was grim. “Although as a bodyguard, I obviously suck.”

  “No complaints from me. Shot in the leg beats dead any day.”

  He couldn’t believe she could joke with him right now, but he also realized the pain hadn’t fully hit her yet. “Emma I have to move you to an SUV. It’s probably going to hurt.”

  “Well, it probably can’t get much worse.” Will scooped her up as she cried out. “Oh, I lied. It can.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Her arms clung around his neck and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Can’t be helped.” But tears slid out of the corner of her eyes. He walked at an even pace, trying not to jostle her any more than necessary. She tensed and tried to suppress a moan with every step.

  “Emma, it’s okay. You can cry out.”

  She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. He reached the clearing around the cabin and realized he couldn’t take her inside since there was little left of it. The back of one of the vehicles seemed the logical choice. He lifted the handle on the back door, praying it was unlocked and not booby-trapped. He was lucky on both counts. The back seat was empty and he slid her in as gently as possible.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as she cried out.

  “Stop saying that already.” She leaned back on her elbows. “Damn it, my leg’s sticking out the door.”

  “I can come around and…”

  She groaned. “I can do it.”

  “I need to go in and get some stuff before we go. I’ll be right back.”

  He sprinted to the cabin, but stopped by one of the bodies and dug a cell phone out of its pocket. In the cabin, his water-soaked cell phone was, amazingly enough, still on the kitchen table. He pulled out the SIM card and replaced it with the card in the gunman’s phone, then stuffed it into his jeans pocket. He found a pillowcase and filled it full of ammunition, clothes and linens, and headed out to the SUV.

  Emma lay back against the door, eyes closed, chest rising and falling with her labored breathing.

  “Emma, I want to change your bandage.”

  Her eyes slowly fluttered open. “You mean your shirt?

  “Hey, we’re short on compression bandages here.” The shirt was almost completely soaked with blood. He crawled into the front and leaned over the back of the seat to work on her leg. He untied it and tossed it outside on the ground.

  “You gonna just litter like that?”

  “The way I see it, the grounds already littered with bodies anyway, what’s another shirt?”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “You have a point.”

  He folded up a towel and put it under her leg and opened a water bottle. “This might hurt a little. I’ve got to clean this out since it’s covered in dirt.” After he poured the entire bottle, Will dabbed the top of her leg and examined the hole closer. The entry was clean and he suspected no damage to her femur, but infection was a huge concern.

  “I’m going to cut the rest of your pant leg off since it’s wet.” He removed the wet towel and placed a dry one on her wound then tied a clean shirt around her leg. “This isn’t a tourniquet, but it will put pressure on it so you don’t have to.” He placed a pillow under her leg and covered her with a blanket. “How does one woman get into so much trouble?”

  Her left shoulder slightly lifted in a shrug. “Don’t ask me. Before this week I never had any drama.”

  “You mean other than running away from men who tried to kidnap your son for three years?”

  “Well, yeah, there is that…” Her eyes were closed. “Now what, Will?”

  “I don’t know yet. Let’s just get out of here and then we’ll figure it out.”

  He was thankful the keys were still in the ignition as he started the vehicle and started down the gravel road. He knew the bumps made it rough on Emma from the moans in the backseat. He only hoped the road didn’t go on for an eternity.

  ***

  Emma sat in the backseat wondering if she was going to die. Don’t be ridiculous Emma, you only got shot in the leg. You are not going to die. But the pain had become so intense she wondered if she would anyway. The bumpy drive didn’t help matters.

  “How much longer is this goddamned road?” she croaked out.

  “I don’t know.”


  She couldn’t die now. Jake needed her to find him even if Will didn’t believe he was alive. She knew she would convince him somehow and she needed Will to help her. Besides, she promised Jake she’d stay with Will. But this whole getting shot thing would totally delay finding Jake. The pain was bad at first, but now it felt like a hot poker had been stuck in her leg and left inside. She wasn’t sure how much more she could stand, but she refused to scream. Think cool thoughts. Ice, snow, arctic winds.

  “Finally,” Will sighed. “The end of the gravel road is up ahead.”

  “Then where?”

  “Denver.”

  “That far?” She panted through the pain. She didn’t want to complain, but she didn’t know how long she was going to last.

  “I don’t even know where we are. I don’t want to use the GPS in case it tells the people who own this thing where we are.”

  “So how will you know?”

  “I’ll just stop somewhere and ask if I don’t see a sign.”

  “A man who asks directions,” Emma said. “I’ve seen it all now.”

  They drove several miles, seeing only trees and the winding road. “We are definitely out in the middle of nowhere,” Will said. “How did they find us here?”

  She didn’t answer. She was too busy concentrating on trying to control the pain.

  “How are you doing back there?”

  “I’ve been better.” She tried to remember some of her Lamaze breathing techniques. Maybe that would help. She needed a focal point. She found a spot on the back of the passenger headrest. Slow deep breath in, cleansing breath out.

  The SUV pulled into the parking lot of a small gas station.

  “I’m going to go get directions.” Will said as he turned off the engine. He twisted around to look at her. “How bad is the pain, Emma? Scale of one to ten.”

  “Eight, maybe nine,” she said between breaths.

  He ran inside and returned a few minutes later with a bottle in a paper bag.

  Emma glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “Little early … for you to be hitting… the bottle.” The pain was getting worse. She leaned her head back praying for it to go away.

  “It’s not for me. It’s for you.” He took the bottle out of the bag and uncapped it as he leaned over the seat.

  She looked down at the container he held in front of her. “I’m… not much… of a drinker.” Her breath came in short pants. Her face and fingers tingled and she realized she was hyperventilating.

  He held it up to her mouth. “Today you are. Drink up.” He tipped the bottle. She opened her mouth and gulped. Her mouth burned and her throat quickly followed. She coughed in response. He tilted it again, filling her mouth. She tried to swallow, but she coughed again and spewed liquid in front of her and down her shirt.

  “Let’s do that again. Try to swallow this time.”

  She gulped the liquid, tears coming to her eyes as she suppressed a cough. “I’m going to get drunk if you keep doing that.”

  “That’s the point, Princess. One more ought to do it if you’re really not much of a drinker.”

  She gulped one last swig, tears streaming down her face. Her eyes closed as she felt the burn of the alcohol settle in her stomach and slowly spread throughout her body. Her leg was still ablaze, but the fuzziness everywhere else distracted her.

  “Hang on, Princess.” He kissed her forehead then started the car.

  Soon, the hum of the car engine lulled her to sleep.

  ***

  They were approaching Denver and Will still didn’t have a plan. He wanted nothing more than to take her to the hospital, but the closer he got to Denver, the more he realized it wasn’t an option. If they could be found in a cabin down a five-mile gravel road on the side of a mountain that didn’t even get cell phone coverage, they could easily be tracked down in a hospital. He could notify police, but they’d get involved anyway since it was a gunshot wound. Will doubted they’d take the extent of the threat seriously enough which left Emma vulnerable. He was going to make damn sure it didn’t happen again, but it severely limited his choices. Her leg needed to be cleaned out and she needed antibiotics, preferably by IV, but that didn’t look like an option either. The trick was how to get his hands on some type of antibiotic. Maybe he could concentrate on cleaning out the wound first and get the antibiotic later. If nothing else, he could wait until nightfall and rob a pharmacy.

  He needed sterile gauze and, at the very least, some antibiotic ointment. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Emma. Her eyes were closed, her face still pale, her breathing shallow. Blood seeped through the blanket over her legs. She could die, he realized. She had lost a lot of blood and was in shock. An infection could kill her.

  Will pulled off onto an exit, searching for a drugstore. Pulling into a Walgreens parking lot, he found a space as far from the door as possible. He hated to leave Emma alone, but he was thankful she remained asleep.

  He got several packages of sterile gauze, antibiotic ointment, a pair of tweezers and a couple bottles of saline. If she got a fever, he wanted to be sure he could take her temperature. He found the thermometers in front of the pharmacy window as he overheard the pharmacy tech on the phone.

  “Patient name? Tyler Robinson…100 cc of Amoxicillin… Okay, tell the mother it will be ready in fifteen minutes.”

  Will couldn’t believe his good luck. All he had to do was beat the mother here to pick up the antibiotic. He would have preferred Cipro, but it would do until he could figure something else out. He lowered his head so they didn’t recognize him later and walked to the front of the store. After he paid for his items, he went back out to the SUV to wait fifteen minutes.

  Picking up the antibiotic was even easier than Will expected. The kid’s insurance card was on file, they didn’t ask for ID, and he paid cash. He ran through a fast-food drive-thru before finding a motel with outside entrance doors to the rooms. Since he didn’t want to use one of his credit cards, he had to settle for a seedy place that took cash.

  The parking lot was nearly deserted so finding a spot in front of their room wasn’t an issue. He carried everything in to the room before he disturbed her. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted, but moving her was necessary. He scanned the area to make sure no one was around, then opened the back door, catching her back so she didn’t fall out as the door opened. She groaned as she fell back into his arms.

  “Sorry.” He slid her out and into his arms. She cried out in pain. “I know. I’m sorry.” He almost wished he stuck around and tried to take someone’s narcotics, but he knew they’d check his ID for that. It never would have worked.

  “Will?” Her speech was slurred as she came around.

  The door was only a few short steps from the SUV. He went through the door and shut it behind him with his foot. “Yeah?”

  “Where are we?”

  He hated to tell her, but there was no way to hide it. “We’re in Denver. In a motel.”

  “Not a hospital?”

  “No.” He didn’t want to lay her on the filthy bedspread. The whole goddamned place was a potential infection cesspool. He bent over, still holding her as he pulled back the bedspread, but he jostled her in the process and she cried out again. “I’m so sorry, Emma.” He was sorry for so many things. After he laid her down, he knelt next to the bed and stroked her hair. Her face was pale, her eyes outlined by dark purple crescent moons. Her breath came in rapid pants.

  “I can’t take you to a hospital,” Will said. “I’m afraid they’ll find us there.”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes. “You know best, Will.”

  Her words were like a punch in the gut. Did he know best? If he did, they wouldn’t be in this situation. “I have to clean out your wound, Emma. It’s going to hurt. I’m sorry.”

  “I told you already, quit saying that.” She paused and bit her lip. “Do what you need to do.”

  He cut her jeans all the way off with his pocketknife. Her leg was swollen arou
nd the wound and the hole oozed blood. He turned on a lamp by the table, jerked off the shade and held it over her leg. When he bent over and looked closely, he saw a few pieces of her jeans inside. He knew they had to come out, but he also knew there were probably some even deeper that he couldn’t reach.

  “Okay, time for another round of drinks. But first some water.” He found a water bottle and reached around her back, pulling her up to drink. He held it to her mouth and she drank with her chapped and swollen lips. She stopped, panting from the exertion.

  “Now, time to belly up to the bar.” He tried to sound jovial, but failed. He held the bottle to her mouth and poured.

  She swallowed and coughed. “What, couldn’t spring for the good stuff?”

  He smirked. “You must not be a drinker. This is the good stuff. Nothing but the best for you.”

  She panted and he waited for her to catch her breath. “You know…they say... it’s bad…to drink…alone.”

  “I think we’ll make an exception in this case.” After he was satisfied she had enough to help with what he was about to do, he laid her back down. He washed his hands and the tweezers with hot soapy water. He bent over scalding his hands in an effort to sterilize them, agonizing over the fact that he was going to hurt her. He lifted his head and saw his reflection amazed to see the face of a man who cared. How long had it been since he’d cared about anything?

  Goddamn it. He wanted to throw something, no to kill someone, the person who did this to her. He realized he had already done that, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted the person behind this fucking mess. He took several deep breaths in to calm down.

  When he went back into the room, he found her asleep, her breath now slow and steady. He hoped she stayed unconscious, but as he poured the saline into her wound, she began to scream in pain. If someone had ripped a hole in his own leg it would have been easier than listening to her anguish.

  He stopped. “Emma, sweetheart, I know it hurts, I know. But you can’t scream or someone might call the police.”

  “I’m sorry,” she choked out through a sob.