Her brows furrowed and her nose wrinkled. He’d hurt her feelings—not what he was going for. “Why not? You touch me.”
Way to go, Winchester.
“You just can’t, okay? It’s not you. It’s me. Honest.” Shit, I sound like I’m in junior high.
Eden reached across the cramped space between them and placed her hand on his jacket sleeve. “Okay. I trust you. Now what?”
Those three words. The right words. I trust you. They nearly did him in. How could she trust him after what some other guy had done to her? Yet there she was, her soft green eyes aglow. Eden offered the barest glimmer of a smile. “After all, I’m the one sitting here with my pants down, aren’t I? Either I trust you or I’m crazy.” But then her façade crumbled. Her lower lip quivered. “He could’ve raped me, Ky. Whoever did this, he might’ve done terrible things to me. How do I know he didn’t?” A sob caught in her throat. “I mean r-r-really? I didn’t know about this wire. W-what else did he… they do to me?”
That shivering question stalled everything. Ky pressed a palm to her shoulder, at a loss as to how to comfort a woman who might’ve been assaulted. He’d endured a world of hurt in his life, some of it perverse and beyond humiliating. In a bizarre turn of events, his savior, Lee Hart, had returned for the wicked Nizari and ended him, but not one day passed that Ky didn’t wish he’d been the one who’d killed the bastard. Slowly. Over a bed of hot coals. Skewered. Drawn and quartered. Bled. Hanged. Dragged through the streets and...
Ky shook off the sickness in his soul that the evil name always brought with it. He stilled until his heart rate calmed. Eden needed that same definite closure he’d experienced, but Ky couldn’t give it to her. He offered what he could. “I know how you feel, Eden. You may never have all the answers. Once we’re stateside, I’ll help you figure it out, but for now, let’s just worry about this wire.” He vowed right then and there that whoever had violated her would die at his hand.
She sniffed, looking like a little girl who’d been pacified for the moment. “Thanks.”
“So show me the point of insertion. How bad is it?” He let his gaze scroll down to her lap. Damn. Not the best thing to say when a guy was so close to a woman’s real point of insertion that he could scent her. He tamped down his growing attraction to this petite blonde and focused on helping her. “Where is it?”
“Right here.” Eden leaned back, one palm splayed behind her to hold her weight. Pointing to the crease of her thigh, she handed over the rolled tape. Cocking one knee at an angle, she exposed the insertion point while she kept herself covered. Mostly. “I thought if I tugged hard enough, the tip might break through the skin, and I could pull it out, but it’s not moving. I’ve just made it sore.”
Sore, yes, but she’d also displayed too much silky feminine skin for a monk like Ky to handle. He’d been on a self-imposed abstinence mission since he’d come home from Kabul. Kneeling so close to her with that lovely, warm feminine scent filling the tiny space between them created a steady thrumming in his blood. His heart thudded like a dummy SCUD over Iraq even as his nostrils flared to draw more of her in. Menthol and Eden and a musky dose of lust. Hmmm.
He forced his focus on the real problem. The incision looked red and raw. It hadn’t had time to heal. He stopped thinking about sex. Kind of. At least, he pushed sex to the back of his mind. Kind of. “Where were you two days ago?” he asked, not that it mattered. This cut looked to be fairly recent.
Eden seemed not to notice his hesitation. “I was in Hawaii. That’s when he showed up, so I checked out and flew to Alaska.”
“Who? Zaroyin?”
She nodded.
“So someone in Hawaii drugged you, assaulted you without your knowledge before he even got there, then topped it off with hypnosis or something so you’d be oblivious to what he did?”
“I think so. That’s the only thing that makes sense. I wasn’t in Alaska long enough.”
Ky pulled the wire taut with one hand and pinched the long, thin shape tucked inside her body between the first two fingers of his other hand. The device resembled half of a ballpoint pen, narrowed at one end where the wire connected, flat at the other. Solid, not malleable, the thing refused to budge. It didn’t even tilt upward toward its point of insertion when he tugged. “Am I hurting you?” he asked.
“No. I’m good.”
“How’d you know when Zaroyin showed up in Hawaii? What’d you do, stalk the airport?”
“One of my friends in the Bureau notified me he was on his way.”
“Let me guess. The same guy who told you to go to Anchorage?”
Eden swallowed hard enough that Ky heard her gulp. “Um, yeah. Why?”
Because he just might be in league with Zaroyin. “He a doctor?”
“Uh-uh. Matt’s friend, Cameron Levine. I met him in D.C. He’s FBI, one of the good guys.”
Like hell. “You go to dinner with this friend while you were in Hawaii? Have any drinks?”
She nodded, not meeting his eyes.
How could she not see what was right in front of her nose? “Ten to one your friend slipped you a roofie. That’s why you don’t remember getting these implants.”
She shook her head, spilling those lovely gold tresses over her shoulders. “Uh-uh. No way. Cameron’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that.”
Well, someone sure as hell did. “How much did you have to drink?”
Her lips narrowed. “Two glasses of white wine. I did get sleepy, but I’d been on edge until then. So what? I needed something to help me relax. He walked me back to my room, but it’s not what you think, Ky. He said goodbye at the door. I’m sure of it. I remember.”
“And then what? You woke up in bed, but don’t recall getting into your pajamas?”
She blinked three times as if the puzzles pieces had just fallen into place. “Um, maybe.”
Levine, you son-of-a-bitch. I am going to rip your fucking head off.
“Bottom line, this thing still has to come out. Listen, I have a surgical kit, and I can do it, but I don’t have any anesthetic. It’ll hurt. I’m sorry.” He shook his head at what she’d have to endure if he made a mistake and nicked her femoral.
“Then do it,” she declared, her chin lift hard to miss. “Now. Let’s get this over with before Tate gets back.”
Ky handed her the fur wrap Tate had salvaged from the Cessna. “Lie down and cover up. You don’t need to undress, but you will need to slip your pants farther down. I’ll need more room to work.” Now there’s a line for the history books. Slip your pants down. Give me room to work.
Silently, she obeyed. Eden eased to her elbows on the sleeping bag while Ky prepared his surgical area. At the same time, he wondered why Alex hadn’t selected Junior Agent Eric Reynolds for this op. The resident USMC medic would’ve been the perfect guy for this assignment. He knew how to operate in the field, and he could’ve done it without risking Eden’s life. Instead, she was getting a minimally trained jarhead. Brave, but stupid. Untouchable, but a hands-on kind of a guy. With gloves. Weird.
Ky was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. And worried. He needed to report in and ask Alex to search out every last person Eden had spoken with since she’d left the Bureau’s protection, especially that Agent Cameron Levine. It didn’t make sense that she’d run straight into Zaroyin’s trap like she had. If it wasn’t Levine, someone else had to have steered her along the way, dropped a hint or given her what sounded like good, free advice.
Time to begin.
Ky reached across the crowded tent for the portable lantern. After he set it where it was out of the way but still bright enough, he retrieved his one and only surgical kit. It was rarely needed, but one of those items he and Tate took turns hauling along on missions. He placed it on Eden’s chest to give her something to do. “Here. Hold this for me.”
She latched onto the edges of it, her fingers trembling. Wrapped in plastic, the kit was nothing but a tray of the minimal tools needed for a quick pa
tch-up job. Sterile gloves. One surgical mask. Scalpel. Scissors. Forceps. Two locking curved hemostats. Already threaded suture needles. Betadine. Antiseptic wash for him. Antiseptic wipes for her. A clotting agent. A stack of white, sterile gauze he didn’t want reddened with her blood. Some other good stuff a real surgeon might need. He gulped, his mouth gone dry now that the time had come to put his money where his previous bravado was. Shit. I’m no doctor.
Nonetheless, he removed his gloves and scrubbed.
Eden had grown quiet. Poor thing. First the spider-like thing in her head, now this.
Ky wiped his hands and wrists and handed her one of the two surgical drapes. “Slide this under your hip. Just in case I... never mind. Just do it.”
She arched her back and maneuvered the paper cloth under the right side of her butt, holding the tray steady as she did. “Okay. I get it. Don’t get blood on the sleeping bag.”
He tugged the surgical mask firmly over his mouth and nose. The latex gloves went next. He snapped the cuffs at his wrists and asked, “You ready?”
“No, but I want his power over me gone. Go ahead. Do it.”
Her words struck him hard. She wanted Zaroyin out of her life. He wanted Nizari out of his. She might understand what he was going through after all.
“Let’s get to work then,” he said, mustering false bravado to put her at ease. “Pull the blanket back just enough to let me take a good look. I don’t want you freezing to death while I’m saving your life.”
She chuckled weakly and bared her right hip. “Me neither.”
Angling her leg to the side, she revealed more creamy bare skin, so soft and tender. His first inclination was to whip Cameron Levine to a pulp for laying a hand on someone as sweet as Eden. The jerk must’ve undressed her in order to tape that wire between her breasts all the way down her abdomen to her leg. He’d stripped her and intimately assaulted her. It didn’t have to be rape. Just the fact that he had to have removed her bra and panties chapped Ky’s hide. What purpose did that long of a lead wire serve anyway? Was it an antenna? Was it meant to prove that Zaroyin had ultimate control over his drones? Intimidation? The threat that he could get to the men and women in his power any time he wanted? Zaroyin needed to pay as much as Levine. Worse...
Ky sucked in a deep breath of barely controlled rage. Had Levine put his mouth on Eden? Had he taken more liberties with her while she lay unconscious at his mercy? Played with her? Kissed her? Fucked her? The son-of-a-bitch.
Ky snorted out a deep breath, struggling for calm. Most doctors didn’t have to operate on their knees, but there Ky was, mad as hell and hunched over Eden like he knew what he was doing. He took hold of the wire again, sizing up his next move, imagining this wire wrapped tightly around Levine’s neck.
When his rage translated into trembling fingers, he shook it off. Eden came first. Then Levine. Ky took a deep breath. He honestly didn’t think the device was inside her femoral artery, or he’d never have considered operating in the first place. But it had been implanted close enough to that artery to scare the hell out of him. People died when surgeons failed, and oh yeah, I’m not a surgeon.
He selected the disposable scalpel from his handy-dandy tray like he knew what he was doing. Lifting it between his two fingers, Ky shouldn’t have risked looking at her, but he did.
Her pretty green eyes blinked, full of tears. “Do you know why I trust you, Ky Winchester?”
“Because you’re crazier than me?” He opted for a touch of humor in the middle of what could very well be her last minute of life if he slipped. If he let her die.
She didn’t crack the smile he’d hoped for. “No. I trust you because I’ve known you for two and a half years. I saw you in that despicable cell in Afghanistan. I came to you psychically, and you need to know I really was there. I know it was hard, but I wouldn’t trade that time in my life for anything.” Eden rested one hand on his forearm. “But most of all, I know your heart, Ky Winchester. You’re the noblest man I’ve ever met. I know you can do this. Now get that thing the hell out of me.”
The universe shifted. His suspicions were spot-on. Her green eyes. Her visions. The sensation that he’d known her before. “You are my angel then,” he stated it; he didn’t ask. “That really was you I saw in Kabul?”
She nodded.
That should’ve rattled him more than it did, but it didn’t. Confidence surged up his spine. Calm assurance gave him energy. It was past time to return the favor she’d done for him. “Hang on, Eden. This may hurt.”
Chapter Twelve
May hurt, nothing. It hurt like heck.
Eden forsook the tray on her chest and dug her fingernails into the sleeping bag, her eyes squeezed tight, but determined not to cry. Okay, forget that. Crying like a baby, but without the blubbering, whiny sound she would’ve made if she’d been alone. The tears she couldn’t stop, but her big mouth she could control. Kind of. A little whimper did squeak out right after he’d made the incision. More when he stuck some of the gauze into the cut. It felt like he jammed a roll of sandpaper inside of her.
He peered closely at his work, and he was so focused. So serious. His brows furrowed. Surgery near a femoral artery was not like popping a pimple or squeezing a sliver out of your thumb. This could go scarily bad.
Adrenaline swarmed through her like a hive of energetic bees on their way to the last flower on earth. She shook, as in shook, rattled. If she’d been on an operating table, she would’ve rolled off the edge and hit the floor. “I’m s-s-sorry. I can’t seem to hold s-s-still.”
“Don’t worry. You’re very brave. I’ve already made the incision. I can see the device clearly now, and it’s not inside your artery, so that’s good. I’m fairly sure it’s a GPS locator, like we thought. Still not real clear why the wire, though.”
Oh, thank God! Pain crawled up her hip and radiated outward in all directions. Her stomach clenched along with every other muscle in her body at whatever he was doing to her. She couldn’t hold her head still. Brave, nothing. She needed this over.
“Whoever did this to you threaded the wire around your femoral artery. Bastard,” he hissed. “Probably because he meant his drones to die if they succeeded in pulling it out. I’ll kill him.”
She should’ve been more appalled at that scary declaration, but a warm glow lit inside of her heart. Ky was in ultimate protector mode, an unusual trait for the men in her past life. Even Matt had kept a professional distance, but Ky sounded like he cared enough to fight for her.
His tongue peeked out between his lips. A sheen of sweat glistened on his wrinkled forehead, and Eden wished she were the nurse instead of the patient, just to dab that manly sweat away. To assist him instead of crying like a baby. Maybe bump elbows with him like people who worked closely together did. Or hips. Oh, heck. She wanted to bump more than hips with this handsome guy operating on her.
“Hold real still. I’ve got to snip this wire, but first...” He dug into the incision with those shiny silver clamp thingies. Both of them. Eden tried to keep her body still, but snap! Her eyes watered and she flinched. Those two things stung like heck, and he had his nose nearly in the incision. He had to have all ten fingers in there. How long is that cut?
“There. Got it. Whew.” He tipped back to his butt, the device dangling at the bloody end of his forceps. “Say goodbye to Zaroyin’s last hold on you.”
He sounded proud of himself, but all Eden could do was bob her head and mumble, “Uh-huh.” So stitch me up already.
A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. Laugh lines. Of all the unlikely guys on earth to have laugh lines, this torture survivor certainly had them. Handsome, etched rays of genuine delight radiated out from the corners of his amber eyes. The man looked like he’d swallowed the sun. “Let’s get you stitched and bandaged, shall we?”
She couldn’t speak. Not yet. He’d done the impossible under primitive conditions, and he had every right to be proud that he hadn’t nicked her femoral artery. She was, too.
It was no small thing. A burst of warmth swelled up from her stomach filling her heart with gratitude for this guy who’d literally dropped out of the sky to save her. He’d called her his angel, but it was the other way around. Ky Winchester was her badassed archangel with brimstone in his eyes and fire in his heart. Geared-up, amped-up, and one of Stewart’s snipers, he was still the gentlest man she’d ever known.
“You okay?”
“Yes,” she whispered. I am now.
“Tiny stitches,” he murmured, leaning over her hip again. “Hang tight. I’m almost done.”
“Am I bleeding?”
“Not much. Sorry I hurt you, but I had to clamp your artery with both hemostats while I cut the wire. Just in case.”
Oh, yeah. That was what they were called. Hemostats, not clamp thingies. She held on tight while he finished closing her up. Snap it to heck. She’d survived an airplane crash with just a bump on her head, yet there she was, shaking like a leaf in the middle of what felt like a full-on body earthquake. She could not control the tremors.
At last, he smoothed a clean, white bandage over the incision, straightened, and peeled his mask and gloves off. “There. All done. Good as new.”
“Th-th-thanks.” She meant to be quick about pulling her pants back up, but being operated on twice in one day had left her weak. She lifted to her palms, shifting under the fur wrap, but failing miserably at her ‘tough FBI agent’ routine. Another tear got away from her.
“Here, let me help,” Ky offered. If that didn’t present her with a mess of conflicting emotions, nothing would. A handsome and very capable guy pulling her pants up instead of down? What was the world coming to? She endured the assist, exhausted to her core and on the verge of falling apart.
Ky didn’t seem to notice, just kept helping with her zipper. The TEAMwear outfit. The incision he’d made didn’t hurt much now that he’d bandaged it, but her pride was a little ragged around the edges. Eden was used to being the one who reached out to others. This was a first—someone helping her every time she turned around.
Ky (In the Company of Snipers Book 13) Page 12