by Rayna Vause
“Everyone all right?”
“Yeah.” Breath sawed in and out of his lungs. He pressed a hand to his chest in an attempt to settle himself as he turned to Jack. His heart dropped to his feet. The shine of blood stood out against the stark, black fabric of his tuxedo.
“Jack! Oh my god.”
“I’m all right.”
“No. No you aren’t. We need to get you out of here. Get you to the hospital!” Chris snatched a stack of paper napkins off the security chief’s desk and pressed them to Jack’s shoulder.
Jack grunted.
“I’m calling 911. We need an ambulance and more police to catch the damn sniper.” Angelica marched to the desk and whipped the phone from its charger.
“Ang, ambulances and more officers are on their way.”
She hung up the phone, but her hand trembled as she placed it back in the charger. Connor wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
“Well they damn well better hurry up and get here.”
Connor pressed his finger to the device in his ear. “EMS is here. Let’s get you out there.”
Connor went to the door and let three security personnel into the office.
Chris wrapped his hand around Jack’s waist and helped him to his feet.
“Let’s get you out of here. I need you to be well.”
“I’m going to be just fine.” He pressed a kiss to Chris’s temple. Then with security surrounding them like a human shield, the group rushed from the hotel.
THEY made quite the sight in the emergency room waiting area in their tuxes and evening gown. Chris leaned forward with his elbow braced on his knees and his hands thrust in his hair.
“I’m so sorry, Ang. If I’d been paying better attention, hell, if I had more practice with my abilities, I might not have frozen right in the stalker’s crosshairs. If I’d had better control, Jack wouldn’t be in the emergency room.”
Angie wrapped an arm around Chris and squeezed him tight. “This is not your fault. Not a bit of it. This lies solely at the feet of the man who had his finger on the trigger.” She let her words sink in. “Connor, did your people find anything?”
Connor shook his head. “He left the gun behind, but he was nowhere to be found. Whoever this bastard is, he seems to stay one step ahead of us at every turn. But with this escalation of violence against so many people and Jack getting shot, a full-scale investigation and the resources of the entire force can be put behind finding this asshole.”
“Ms. Whitman?”
At the call of her name, Angelica’s head whipped up. She stood when a doctor approached, and Chris rose too, putting an arm around her.
“Yes. How’s my brother?”
“He’s lucky. Fortunately, the bullet passed through his arm and didn’t hit any major blood vessels. He’s resting right now.”
Relief slammed into Chris, forcing him to sit back down as he became a bit light-headed.
“Thank you, Doctor.” Angie covered her heart with a hand and let out a long breath. “Can we see him?”
“Yes. I’ll have a nurse come to escort you back to him.” With that last statement, the doctor hurried off to deal with the next emergency rolling through the doors.
Angie turned to Chris and rubbed his shoulder. “See, he’s fine.” Her voice broke on the last word. “We’re going to get him into a private room. Please stay with us tonight. I can’t handle anything else happening. I need to know everyone I care about is safe.” She shot a sidelong look at Connor. “Even you, McCord.”
“Permitted into the inner sanctum. I feel so special.” He tugged at Angelica’s hair.
Chris appreciated the attempt to lighten the mood, and Angelica gave Connor a weak smile. The promised nurse appeared in the waiting room doorway, waving them on. Almost in unison they rushed after her.
Jack sat propped up on the emergency room gurney. He still had on his tuxedo pants, but the sleeves of his jacket and his dress shirt had been cut away. A thin hospital blanket covered his legs. Dark circles bruised under his eyes, his sun-kissed skin pale. He looked exhausted.
“Jack?” Angelica crossed to him and ran a hand over his hair.
His eyes opened. The brilliant silver-gray looked dull, glassy, drugged.
“Hey.” Jack smiled wryly. “Guess I should have paid better attention to my gut, huh? The plan seemed like a good idea at the time, though.”
Chris shook his head. “That’s not important right now. How’re you doing?”
Jack held out a hand, and Chris moved to stand beside him in the cramped space of the ER cubicle. He linked his fingers with Jack’s. Angelica stood on the other side of the bed and pressed a kiss to her brother’s forehead.
“I’ve been poked and prodded, bombarded with questions, and drugged up. At this moment my greatest wish is to go home, climb in bed, and forget about tonight.”
“No can do on going home. But we’ll make you comfortable,” Angie promised.
Chris had to force words past the lump in his throat. “God, Jack. I am so, so sorry.”
“This is not your fault. You get rid of that thought right now.” Jack rolled his head toward Angie. “Can you check and see when they’re going to move me, please?”
“Hang in there. We’ll be able to get you out of here soon.” She patted his knee.
“Ang, why don’t we go check with the desk to see if there is anything we can do to get Jack into that private room any faster,” Connor said.
She nodded, kissed Jack again, and followed Connor through the curtain.
“Tonight was probably not one of my better ideas.” Jack closed his eyes and gripped his arm just below the thick gauze bandage on his arm. The crinkles at the corner of his eyes betrayed his discomfort.
“It was actually a smart plan. It would have been brilliant if we’d managed to catch him. But we had to try. We had to do something to draw him out. I’m just sorry you got hurt in the process.” Like a switch had flipped, the panic Chris kept at bay surged through him. He dropped into the lone chair in Jack’s cubicle and rested his head against the gurney as his entire body began to tremble. “I can understand why you didn’t believe me about my abilities. In a pinch, I’m useless as a psychic. Sure I had a bad feeling, but what good is that if I can’t give anyone advanced notice? If I can’t stop bad things from happening?”
Jack threaded his fingers through Chris’s hair. “Not true, baby. You picked up on him just in time to keep me off that platform. You started us on the way out of the room. Things could have been so much worse.”
“Sure. Then I lose my shit right out in the open where he can pick me off like a target in an arcade shooting gallery.”
“Chris, the cover in that ballroom was minimal. You are not to blame. If anyone is, it’s me for putting all of us in that situation. Come here.”
Chris rose, leaned in, and pressed a soft kiss to Jack’s lips. He threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of Jack’s neck and held on.
At the sound of a throat clearing, Chris stepped away and turned to see Angelica and Connor smiling at them.
“So can I get out of here?” Jack asked.
“Sorry buddy, but you’re spending the night.”
“What? Why?” Jack glared at Connor, then pushed himself upright and winced as he forgot about the wound in his arm.
Angie shook her head. “Because, duh. You were shot! They want to give you a course of IV antibiotics and keep an eye on you.”
Jack looked mutinous, like he would climb out of the bed and march right out of the emergency room.
Chris placed a hand on Jack’s arm. “It’s just one night. Let the doctors make sure all is well.”
“Can’t I be monitored at home?” Jack slumped back against the bed.
“It’s really better to be here in the hospital where they can give you immediate attention if something does occur.” Chris rubbed Jack’s leg.
Before he could balk, Angelica cut in, “Do it for me. You already gave me one good sc
are. Stay for me? Let me be absolutely sure that you’re okay. Please.” Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. “Please, Jack.”
“Oh, that’s just low, Ang.” Jack grimaced. “Fine. Twenty-four hours, and then I can go home?”
“Barring any problems, absolutely.”
“Fine, fine.”
Connor pulled his cell out of his pocket and started to dial. “Good. We’ll have security on the door and an escort to bring Chris home tonight and back to the hospital in the morning.”
“Give the hospital staff a few minutes and they’ll get you tucked into a private room.” Angelica hitched herself up on the edge of the bed and leaned forward to lay her head on her brother’s chest.
Chris’s heart squeezed at the touching scene.
“Scared me tonight. Both of you did,” she confessed.
Jack petted her long blonde hair. “No more using ourselves as bait. We’ll find another way to get this guy.”
“Chris, did you see anything in those visions that stood out to you? Even something small might be able to help.”
Chris closed his eyes and tried to recall the details of the vision. He looked at Connor. “I was looking at the room through his eyes so I didn’t see his face, but I did see his hands. He had a signet ring on his right index finger. In the center was a stylized W.”
Everyone stiffened in reaction.
“Are you sure?” Jack clenched his arm with shocking force.
“Yeah. Why?”
Both Angelica and Jack focused on Connor, the look in Jack’s eyes hard, intense.
Angelica turned to face Connor, her hands planted on her hips. “It’s not possible, right?”
Connor frowned. “If he’d been up for parole or released, I would have been notified. I’m damn well going to find out if he’s still behind bars where he belongs.”
Chris glanced between Jack, Angelica, and Connor. “What are you talking about? If who was up for parole?”
The curtain to the treatment bay parted and a patient transporter rounded Jack’s bed readying it for Jack’s move to his private room. In moments, they were on their way to Jack’s room, Chris’s questions left unanswered for now.
“FUCK! Fuck! Fuck!” He raged alone in the darkened interior of his dump of a car. He slammed his hands against the steering wheel, then gripped it, knuckles white from the pressure as he thrashed and yelled. His heart pounded in his ears; his breath hissed out of his nose.
“How the hell could I miss? I never miss. It had to be that damn psychic. He warned them. He told them to move just before I fired. Had to be it. Had to be. Because no way do I miss.”
He glanced up at the run-down apartment building he currently called home. A car drove down the street, its backfire indistinguishable from the gunfire, a sound not uncommon in this neighborhood. A dog barked in the distance.
His entire body clenched; his head pounded. He should be the one living in the mansion. Attending benefits. Sitting in the huge corner office. Jack took it all away. Jack had to pay. Yes, and he would.
But first, the psychic had to go.
“Calm down. Calm down.” He muttered the words and blew out a long breath, trying to settle his overwrought system. He needed to think, to plan, to be smart. For tonight he needed to lie low. But soon. Soon he’d get his due.
He climbed out of his car and slammed the door behind him. Time to stop playing around.
“Payback’s a bitch.”
Chapter Seven
THE hospital discharged Jack late the next afternoon. Angelica had picked him up and Chris met them in the lobby of the hotel. She’d turned Jack over to his care with a wink and a smile as she bustled off to her office in the adjoining club.
“Wait here,” Jack said to Chris after they got off the elevator and before they entered Jack’s suite.
“Where are you going?”
“I want to check the place out. Just in case.”
Chris stepped around Jack and gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You’re hurt and I’m an adult. I don’t need you to protect me all the time.” He smiled and touched Jack’s uninjured shoulder. “But I do appreciate it some of the time.”
Jack nodded. “Together, then.”
They could take comfort in the fact that only those with a key fob could access the floor. Jack had installed a guard at the elevator bank and given his security instructions to carefully monitor the hall cameras on this floor and the one below, where they kept a suite for Angelica. Still, after securing the front door, they did a room-by-room check of the entire suite. All appeared fine. They wandered back into the living room and collapsed onto the couch. Jack closed his eyes, then rolled his shoulder and rubbed a hand over the bandage on his bicep.
“God, Jack. I’m so sorry.”
“Stop. Stop apologizing. This is not your fault. Do you hear yourself? You’re apologizing because you didn’t have a vision sooner that could have stopped a madman. You’re apologizing because something that should be impossible didn’t happen on a timely basis. If anyone is at fault for anything it’s me and Connor. We took a chance. We hoped that having all of us in one spot would spark this guy. We were more successful than we ever anticipated.”
Chris shrugged. “I guess I just feel like I should have been able to prevent anyone from getting hurt, but most especially you.” He slid closer and their knees touched.
Jack tugged Chris so they leaned against each other. “And I shouldn’t have risked any of you.”
Chris put his head on Jack’s shoulder. “You know, I actually had a good time at the start of the evening. I’ve never been to a black-tie, red-carpet affair. How it ended left a lot to be desired, and wow will Angie have her hands full with the aftermath, but it could have been worse.”
They sat quietly together, Chris rubbing Jack’s thigh. Then he patted it once and shifted away. “Come on. Let me help you get changed and rebandage that arm. Then I’ll let you rest.”
“Ugh. I need to shower first. I smell like a hospital.”
Chris rose and turned to help Jack to his feet. Hand in hand they headed for the bedroom. Chris helped Jack out of his shirt and went in search of the medical supply bag they’d gotten at the hospital. He returned to find Jack flopped back on the bed, eyes closed, fatigue dimming the usual golden glow of his skin. The bandage around his arm looked stark and wrong. Chris sat next to Jack and went to work covering the thick gauze with a plastic bag, securing the edges with tape. Then he ran his hand over the firm expanse of Jack’s sculpted chest, coming to rest over his heart. Jack reached up and covered his hand prompting Chris to seek out Jack’s gaze. The mesmerizing silver-gray shone up at him, making him light-headed. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Jack’s.
Jack slid his hand up to caress Chris’s cheek. “I’m fine.”
Chris nodded and took a slow breath and then rose. “Let’s get you showered.” He tugged Jack to his feet and then turned to start cleaning up the used supplies. But before he could, Jack grabbed him, kissed him hard and fast, then slipped around him and disappeared into the master bathroom.
Chris swayed on his feet and the room revolved once, then snapped back into place. With a smile he dropped onto the bed to wait for Jack to finish. When he heard the water turn off, he started to set out the supplies he’d need to rewrap Jack’s arm.
He turned to find Jack standing in the bathroom doorway in nothing more than a towel, steam wafting out the door behind him. Chris forgot how to breathe, and his hands itched to touch all of that exposed flesh. To learn the contours of firm muscle. The smoothness of Jack’s skin under his hand.
“W-Why don’t you sit down and let me take care of that arm.”
Jack strolled into the bedroom and sat at the end of the bed. The towel parted. Chris struggled to keep his eyes and mind on the task at hand as he picked up the gauze and began to cover the angry, red wound.
“There you go. All patched up.” Chris licked his lips. Get your hormones in check, dude. Chris tri
ed to step back.
Jack reached out and snared his wrist. “Thanks.” Jack lifted his molten silver gaze to meet Chris’s and banked desire flared to life. The spacious bedroom got much too small and much too warm.
“I should go. I should let you rest.”
“I could lie down for a while.” Jack didn’t release him. Instead he stood and pulled them chest to chest. His towel dropped away.
Chris’s lips parted. Jack’s spicy scent teased his senses, making the room spin.
Before he could formulate his next thought, Jack’s mouth claimed his. They lost themselves in a kiss born of desire, desperation, and a touch of fear. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. His world reduced to the sensations Jack evoked as Jack’s hands explored his body and Jack’s mouth conquered his. Jack’s mouth moved to his jaw, to the side of his neck. Chris tilted his head to give him better access, especially to that spot just below his ear. Oh, yeah.
Chris carded his fingers through Jack’s hair, holding that magic mouth in place. Jack walked Chris to the side of the bed as they struggled to strip off Chris’s clothes. When he was bare, they eased down to the bed together, the soft cotton comforter cool against his heated skin.
He moaned when Jack’s long, hard body pressed him into the bed, and skilled hands played his body like a maestro. Chris panted as he stared up into Jack’s stunning face. Jack cupped his jaw, teasing his bottom lip with his thumb. No one had ever looked at Chris like this before. With a glance, a touch, Jack told him he was special, necessary, and wanted beyond words.
He nipped the pad of Jack’s thumb and kissed it. Then, careful of Jack’s arm, he rolled them. He propped himself up so he could watch the pleasure dance across Jack’s face as he ran his hand down Jack’s body, stopping to tease his nipple, dip into his belly button, and skim down to cup Jack’s hard length. Jack cried out and thrust up into his hand.