Men of Mercy: The Complete Story

by Cross, Lindsay

  “Go on.”

  “The problem is they've switched to a different code pattern and I haven't been able to decipher it yet. All I know is that they’re talking and the activity seems to be centered somewhere around here.”

  Hoyt checked his watch. “Hey Top, wanna continue this conversation back at headquarters?”

  Hoyt got a tingle on the back of his neck, like all the little hairs were standing on end. The same feeling he’d had in Afghanistan when a sniper crosshairs had been aimed his way. In fifteen minutes the classes currently in session would end and the parking lot would fill. There'd be no hiding the guns or the fact they'd cornered Malik in his car.

  “Yeah. I'll ride in the back of the Lexus. Ranger can drive us.”

  Hoyt caught a movement on the stairs, and turned to see the sun glint off Hayden's hair. “Shit.”

  The world around him turned to slow motion. Hoyt's heart rate dropped to a controlled sixty beats per minute. The wind picked up, blowing southwest about five miles per hour. A flag on top of the building unfurled and snapped in the breeze.

  Hoyt took off, pounding across the pavement at full speed, his blood heaving through his body like a well-oiled machine. Fifty feet. Hayden started walking his direction, staring at him like he'd lost his ever-loving mind.

  “Get down!”

  Hayden took another step down the concrete stairs. Adrenaline pumped through him, pushing his legs harder. Faster. Closing the distance between them a little more every second. A flash of sunlight off a side mirror on the last row of cars temporarily blinded him.

  Hoyt kept going, blinking to clear his vision. And then he felt the air shift, felt the change. He knew it the second the sniper sighted them. Hoyt pumped his arms, using every ounce of strength to propel his body forward. Ten feet. She stepped off the last step, out of the building's shadow.

  Five feet.

  “Hoyt?”

  Four feet. He scanned the buildings around them and caught a barrel poking over the edge of the rooftop to his right. Hayden's other side.

  Hoyt's muscles coiled and he jumped for her.

  He heard the low whiz of a bullet slicing through the air followed by a muted pop. He saw the look of surprise on her face. Then Hayden flew to the left. Her head whacked the sidewalk, and she didn't get back up.

  Hoyt landed on top of her with a roar of fury, bracketing her head between his hands, completely covering every inch of her body with his.

  Not her. Not Hayden.

  “Hoyt! Did you catch him?” Jared said.

  “Three o'clock. On top of the building.”

  Jared got to them first. He stood between Hoyt and the shooter, his shadow long and narrow over the pavement. “I don't see him. Fuck.”

  “Get her out of here, she's too exposed.” Ranger came running, pistol out and ready, and took up residence on Hoyt's left.

  “Shit, I don't see any movement, nothing.” Jared bit out.

  Hoyt lifted his head. He'd trapped Hayden on her side, her hair completely covering her face. He brushed it back, his hand shaking like a damn greenhorn caught in his first firefight. Her face was pale, her lips pale. Too pale against the stain of dark red blood spreading across the pavement beneath her. Her shoulder, they got her in her shoulder.

  His blood pressure bottomed out. “Ah, Christ. Hayden. Hayden, can you hear me?”

  Her head lolled uselessly with his movement.

  “I think we're clear,” Jared said.

  Ranger ripped his phone out, “911. We have an active shooter on campus. One student down. Requesting an ambulance and back up.”

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  “Hayden, honey...” Hoyt got to his knees and crushed her to his chest. Her warm blood slowly coated his arm and shirt. He just held her and rocked, one hand on the back of her neck and the other at her lower back. Her legs stretched out on the pavement beside him.

  This was a pain like he'd never felt, not even while he was being tortured. Her blood kept draining. More of it was covering his jeans, his hands. “Hold on baby, I've got you.”

  She was so perfect, everything about her radiated goodness. Her rich golden hair gleamed in the sun even as he watched her life blood drain from her body. Hoyt moaned and pulled her closer. He'd been so caught up his own stupid struggles, he’d failed to protect her.

  “Jesus, Hoyt. Put her down, let me look at her.” Hunter was there, reaching for her.

  Hoyt reacted like a gun shot. “Don't touch her.”

  “Hey, man, we need to stop the blood. Put pressure on the wound.” But Hunter didn’t push him.

  “Not safe here.”

  Ranger motioned toward the teacher's parking area. “Here, move her to this handicap space.”

  Hoyt rose to his feet with Hayden in his arms, her long hair, streaked with fresh blood, trailing over his arm.

  Hunter and Ranger fell in on either side of him, their faces pale. “Oh my God.”

  Hoyt took the last couple of steps and gently laid her down on the pavement, cradling her head. Then he looked down at his own shirt, covered in her blood, and went cold.

  “Here.” Hunter ripped off his army green shirt and thrust it at Hoyt.

  He took it and applied pressure to her shoulder, trying to slow the bleeding. Hoyt focused on the shallow rise and fall of her chest. As long as he could see it moving, he could breathe, he could function.

  Hunter crouched in front of him, watching Hayden as intently as Hoyt was. Jared and Ranger kept guard around them. Hoyt glanced up to see Malik wavering a few feet away, wringing his fingers together.

  He was vaguely aware of sirens approaching from a distance, but nothing else mattered now. He'd lied to her, told her he didn't want her. That he was only there for the team.

  Grief bowed him forward until his head touched her chest. He loved her. She was the most important part of him, his essence. His heart and his soul. He’d known it since the moment they met.

  And over the past months, he'd done nothing but tear her down and push her away. He didn't understand it, and he knew he never would. He was a white trash hillbilly who would never be worthy of her. And now he would never have the chance to try, all because he’d been so fucked up and stuck in his own head.

  Unbearable pain held his chest hostage. He'd done this, might as well have pulled the trigger himself. And when Hoyt finally looked up and met Hunter’s rage-filled gaze, he knew it for a fact.

  Chapter 26

  At midnight, Hoyt strode down the florescent-lit hospital hallway, his boots clunking on the disinfected tiles. White walls, white floors, white uniforms - everything about the hospital screamed clean and safe. Even the smell, a combination of bleach and antiseptic, was meant to make people feel protected.

  But not Hoyt. The beeping monitors grated on his already shattered nerves, reminding him of his own brush with death. Dipping in and out of unconsciousness, swimming in a vicious sea of pain, looking in the mirror for the first time after...

  “Can I help?” A petite nurse in pale pink scrubs glanced up from her post, letting her words trail off when she got a good look at him. Her spray-tanned skin turned as white as the parchment walls around her and she stumbled back a step.

  Some distant part of him, one he couldn't quite hear, told him to chill. Attempt to smile and put her at ease. All he could manage was a growl. “Hayden James.”

  She pointed down the hall, her hand trembling a little. “The waiting room is that way.” Hoyt took off down the hall, eating up the distance, each step taking him closer to Hayden.

  He'd been hunting the sniper for the past eight hours straight, but he hadn't found one clue. Not even a flash mark from the barrel on the roof of that building, which meant he was dealing with a pro.

  Malik was at headquarters, being questioned by Grey and Merc, and hopefully providing new intel.

  Hoyt had been all over Mercy, following every single possible lead he could dig up. He'd even made a stop at the gas station where the first suspect
had worked. Nothing. The guy he found there was straight up scared, but he knew as much as Hoyt did.

  And Hoyt had the sinking sensation he'd barked up the wrong terrorist tree. After calling and checking in with the hospital every hour, he'd finally given in to the undeniable urge to come to her. To be here, in the same building as Hayden.

  He saw Hank first, bent over in one of those plastic chairs with no arms, his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. Maxine had her arms around him, her head on his back. Hoyt slowed his pace as fear slithered down his spine. Hayden's father looked - defeated.

  Hoyt's throat closed off and he stumbled, stopping right beside the man to whom he’d broken a sacred promise. He’d told Hank he would keep his daughter safe. He had failed. Hoyt tried to speak, but all he could manage was a few hard gasps of air.

  Maxine looked up, her deep brown eyes swimming with tears, and Hoyt stopped breathing altogether. He dropped to one knee. The energy it took to stand was suddenly beyond him. Hoyt knew that look.

  But no, she couldn't be dead. They had brought her to this place, this place where they saved people every day. They had to save her…They just had to.

  Bam!

  Hoyt tensed and Maxine touched his arm. “Hoyt, it's okay.”

  His breathing was harsh and loud, but he managed to pull himself together enough to get to his feet. He wasn't about to get kicked out of the hospital before he even saw her. “Where is she?”

  “She's resting in there.” Maxine pointed to the door directly across the hall.

  Resting? The world tilted on its axis at that one word. She was alive? Hayden was alive?

  He had to see for himself. He got to his feet and stumbled over to the door.

  “Sir, only family is allowed in the room.” Another nurse approached, but Hank held up his hand.

  “It’s okay. He can go in.”

  He put his hand against the cold wood, stalling out of the fear that this was some cruel trick meant to give him hope only to bash him over the rocks.

  Hoyt pushed the door open on silent hinges and went inside. The beep, beep, beep of the monitors was slow and steady. Hayden was reclined on the bed with various tubes and wires connected to her arm. Pale and so beautiful she stole his ability to think. Somehow he made it to the chair pulled up to the side of the bed. He sat there and took her small hand in his. Hoyt silently begged her to open her eyes and look at him, to tell him everything would be okay, but she didn't move. All he could do was stare at the slow rise and fall of her chest and reassure himself that she was alive.

  “You saved my daughter’s life.” Hank James walked into the room and stood beside him.

  “Shouldn't have ever left her side,” he choked out.

  Hoyt felt Hank edge closer. Sensing the older man’s hand hovering above his shoulder, Hoyt tried to prepare himself for the crawling sensation he’d feel when Hank actually touched him.

  “Son, you are the person I would trust her life with most. I know you did the best you could.” Hank’s hand settled heavy on Hoyt's shoulder, and somehow it didn't trigger him.

  Tears pricked Hoyt’s eyes as he stared straight down at Hayden's hand wrapped in his. His throat worked, trying to swallow down the emotions rolling inside him, and he shook his head. “If I'd done enough, it would be me in the hospital, not her.”

  “If not for you, she might be dead.” He squeezed Hoyt's shoulder. “And you wouldn't be scared to death right now if you didn't love her as much as I do.” His voice broke a little as he said it.

  When Hank let go of his shoulder, Hoyt was surprised by his reaction. He felt the loss of connection so keenly he couldn't hold back his emotions. Hot tears tracked down his cheek and dripped on Hayden's arm. “I'm so sorry.”

  “You got nothing to apologize to me about. Way I see it, you gotta forgive yourself. And you better hurry up and figure out how to do it, so you're ready for my girl when she wakes up.”

  Hank was giving Hoyt his blessing. Hoyt tore his gaze away from Hayden and leveled it on her father. Hank's gray eyes were bright with emotion, but there was no condemnation lurking in their depths. There was only open honesty.

  “How can you say that? I don't deserve her.” All Hoyt could manage was a broken whisper.

  “Listen, son, I don't know much about your past, but I know you went through some heavy stuff and got the scars to prove it. But Hayden doesn’t care about that. She sees you for the man you are. The one who'd give his own life to protect her. And I'm okay with the thought of her being with a man like that.”

  Hoyt worked on swallowing the gigantic boulder in his throat. “I don't have anything to give her.”

  “Do you love her?”

  Hoyt didn't hesitate. “More than my life.”

  Hank gave him a hard stare. “Then fight for her.”

  Fight for Hayden. Would she be able to look at him after the hateful things he'd said to her back in the lab? He knew what he’d put her through - he’d seen it in her eyes. Was he strong enough to fix it? To fix himself?

  Maybe Hunter would come around too if he could pull himself together.

  “Baby, you coming?” Maxine poked her head in through the door.

  “Yeah, hon. Give me a sec.”

  Maxine glanced at Hoyt and then nodded and shut the door.

  “You look at Hayden the same way I look at Maxi,” Hank continued. “Women like that don't come around very often, and when they do, you got to man up and tell them how you feel.” Hank turned for the door, pulled it open and paused. “You've got my blessing, but if you hurt her feelings again, I'll kick your ass. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Hank left, and Hoyt turned back to Hayden and propped his elbows on the bed, careful not to jostle her. The monitor continued to beep and a small green line moved across the screen, cresting with each heartbeat. Hayden’s life on a computer screen.

  And all because of Zafar and Mr. J.

  If it took the rest of his life, Hoyt would track the leaders of that group down and put bullets in their brains. No one threatened his family…No one. And while it had taken him longer than he liked to realize it, Hayden was family. She was his one shot for a future.

  Chapter 27

  Hayden came back to consciousness slowly. Forcing her heavy eyelids open one at a time. She became aware of a burning pain in her shoulder and then she registered the needles in her arm and the beeping monitors.

  Her brows dropped. The last thing she remembered was Hoyt running toward her, screaming...

  Hoyt's head was cradled on the bed beside her, his warm hand wrapped around hers. She was in the hospital. Hayden glanced down at her shoulder, saw the huge white bandage there. She'd been outside in the sun, she'd felt an explosion of pain in her chest, and then the world had gone black.

  Hoyt twitched and moaned in his sleep, sweat breaking out across his brow. Hayden skimmed her palm over his head, remembering the last time she’d soothed him through a nightmare. He’d had too many after his torture.

  She missed his long curly blond locks. But she couldn't deny that the buzz cut only emphasized the sharp handsome planes of his face. His eyelids twitched and he moaned again. Hayden trailed her hand down to his cheek. “It's okay, I'm right here.”

  Her thumb stroked back-and-forth across his cheekbone, his brow, anything she could do to soothe him. After a minute, Hoyt settled down.

  The door opened and the nurse came in. She frowned when she spotted Hoyt. “It’s not visiting hours.”

  “He stays.” Hayden was sick of everyone looking at him like he didn't belong. If that nurse didn't get the hint, Hayden would get up out of her bed and force feed it to her.

  The nurse didn't even try to approach the bed. She just nodded and backed out the door, leaving Hayden alone with Hoyt.

  Even better. He was out cold, but he was here. That was all she needed. That and the memory of the look of terror on his face as he gunned it for her in the parking lot. It had been the expression
of a man terrified of losing a loved one.

  Now she just had to figure out how to stop him from pushing her away.

  Hayden squeezed his hand and tried to scoot closer, but a sharp sting in her shoulder was a not-so-gentle reminder to stay still. Her movement had been enough to jostle Hoyt, though, and he lifted his head from the bed. When he sat upright, Hayden gasped. “Hoyt, are you hurt?”

  Hoyt glanced down and shook his head. “Your blood. How do you feel?”

  Hayden gave a small laugh. “Like I've been shot.”

  “Don't joke about that.”

  Hoyt tried to pull back, but she clamped down and held him in place. “Don't leave.”

  The light teasing evaporated, leaving behind stark reality. She’d not only been targeted, but shot. Her chest burned with pain and her lungs locked down. If Hoyt left her now...

  “Hey, it's okay. I'm not leaving you. You're safe.” Hoyt held on to her gaze, his eyes intense.

  Hayden trembled and held on tight. “Will you stay with me?”

  “I won't leave your side.”

  The fear and adrenaline started to drain away, leaving her lids feeling heavy. Hayden fought the urge to go to sleep. What if she woke up and he was gone?

  Hoyt caressed her cheek. “Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise.”

  * * *

  The next time she dipped above the sea of consciousness, she was in Hoyt's arms, snuggled against his chest, her face cradled against his neck. She vaguely registered a car door opening. Hoyt climbed inside, still holding her, and she could feel and hear the steady bump and grind of the wheels on the road.

  “Are you sure?” her dad's rough voice asked from the front seat.

  Hoyt's chest vibrated against her cheek, “Yes, sir. She'll stay at my place.”

  And then she fell asleep again.

  Chapter 28

  “Okay, with the second team here, that gives us a total of eighteen men.” Hunter spread out a large map on the command center table. “Hank has roughly one hundred acres in this rectangle. Good news is it's fenced in with barbed wire. Bad news is a lot of it's wooded, so if they sneak up, we won't be able to see them coming from far away.”