Page 4 of Savage Reckoning
“I’ll go chase up those results.” I pat her on the shoulder and pick up my tablet with Ethan’s latest data on it. “I won’t be long.”
On my way to the exit from the intensive care unit, I pass the bed where Aaron Savage, Ethan’s brother, also lies in a drugged sleep. His partner, Beth, perches beside him, clutching his limp hand in hers. Aaron was also on board the wrecked chopper, along with Rome and Tony, two more of our men, and a teenage girl, the younger sister of a woman I gather is Rome’s current love interest. I know Aaron regained consciousness an hour or so ago and the signs are good. Rome, Tony, and the girl, Natalija, were walking wounded. It’s a miracle, frankly, that there are no fatalities. Yet.
The pilot, Magda, is not so lucky. She suffered a catastrophic leg injury and had to be cut from the wreckage. She’s likely to lose the leg, though her life isn’t in danger as far as I can tell. She’s on another surgical ward and will be my next stop after I find out what I can about Ethan’s condition.
I meet one of the two designated nurses caring for Ethan just coming back onto the ward. In answer to my questioning expression, she shakes her head.
“I was just about to phone and try to gee them up again.”
“Okay. I’ll be on ward seventeen. Let me know if there’s any change.” I let myself out into the family waiting area outside.
And my heart stops. Literally. Stops.
I gape at a ghost, an apparition from my past. Someone I sincerely hoped never to encounter again in this life or the next. My tablet clatters from my nerveless fingers to bounce on the tiled floor.
“You!” I spit the word at him.
If Ed Baker is surprised to see me, he hides it well. He inclines his head in polite acknowledgement of my presence. He might even summon up a grin, the arrogant bastard.
“Good to see you, Megan. It’s been a while.”
My jaw works, but no sound comes out. I’m quite literally struck dumb.
What the fuck is he doing here, invading my world all over again? Appearing in the lovely new life I built for myself after… after…
“Nowhere near long enough,” I grind out eventually. Then, as the events of four years ago come flooding back, “I should have made a better job of shooting you.”
That same arrogant smirk is plastered across his handsome features, just as before. If anything, he’s even more self-assured, more cocky, more… sexy than I remember. His eyes just as blue, his mouth every bit as full, his jaw still looking as if it were hewn from granite, he smiles at me.
“Better luck next time, darlin’.” He bends to relieve my tablet and presses the button on the side. “Doesn’t seem to be broken.” He hands it back to me.
I snatch it and open my mouth again to tell him to go. To get out of my life once and for all and never so much as dream of coming back. All that comes out is a disappointing “Fuck you.”
I’m dimly aware of the others in the room. Ed always had that effect. He sort of swallows up all the space, all the oxygen, all the attention, as if there’s only him who matters.
Jack Morgan, second-in-command to Ethan Savage and presumably in charge temporarily, clears his throat.
Rome just stares from me to Ed and back again, as though watching a tennis match in slow motion.
Arina, Rome’s girlfriend, is simply open-mouthed.
“You two know each other?” Not much gets past Jack Morgan. He waits, one eyebrow arched, for someone to serve up introductions.
He can wait until Hell freezes over as far as I’m concerned. I gather my tablet to my chest and stride past Ed with as much dignity as my shattered wits can muster.
“Just go,” I hiss, slamming the door behind me.
Gabe
It could have been worse. She might have blurted out my previous name, the alias I was using when we last met. Ed Baker is history. Or should that be he never existed at all? He was a cover identity that suited me at the time, but he’d be a complication I can do without right now.
I don’t think it would take much to convince the men glaring at me to simply shoot me and be done with it. The merest hint of a false name would be enough.
“What the fuck was that about?”
My three companions observe Megan’s retreating back. The girl, Irina, I think, winces at the vicious slamming of the door.
The blond giant who seems to be the one in charge here regards me with his glacial blue stare, clearly expecting an answer to his question. I don’t blame him.