“What’s that?” Tina asked as she leaned in close.
“Emergency supplies.” Because he believed in being prepared. Would the burner phone work? Only if they could get a signal in the middle of nowhere. It had been hard enough to get a signal at the compound.
Out here...doubtful.
He’d gotten the pack ready cautiously, always knowing that he could need to flee at any moment. Some food, medical supplies—and that burner phone. Everything that a guy on the run could possibly need.
He tucked the bag under his arm and hissed out a breath when his wound throbbed.
“Drew?”
“I’ll need your help, Doc.” Sure, he’d taken out bullets on his own before, but when he’d stitched them up, he’d done hack jobs on his body. Besides, with the way he was feeling, Drew was afraid he might pass out halfway through the bullet extraction.
He went back to the front of the shack. The door was locked, so he just pulled up his strength and kicked it in.
Inside, dust coated the place. The shack smelled closed-in—but, lucky for them, there weren’t any critters.
And the place had been a house. Once. He pulled a flashlight from the pack and shone the small ray of light around the interior. An old bed. A table. Some chairs.
He hauled the chairs back against the door and braced them under the now-broken doorknob.
Drew dumped his pack on the wobbly table. He reached inside and pulled out another flashlight. Drew handed it to Tina. “We can’t keep the light on for too long. If the folks looking for us come this way, it will alert them.”
She nodded.
He lifted the phone.
He realized that Tina was holding her breath.
He hated to break it to her but... “There’s no signal here.” He’d try to go outside. Walk the perimeter. Maybe he’d find—
His knees buckled. He almost hit the floor. And he almost took Tina down with him.
“Drew!” She braced him against her.
“Sorry, Doc, stood as long...as I could...” He licked his too-dry lips. “Do me a favor?”
“Of course! Anything, I—”
“Dig out the bullet.”
She grabbed for the first-aid supplies and helped him to the bed. He fell back and she came tumbling down with him. When he hit the mattress, she fell in close to him. Her mouth was just inches from his. “Want you,” he managed to rasp, and maybe he was starting to get a little delirious from the pain and blood loss because he hadn’t meant to tell her that. Talk about bad timing. “Got to...stop bleedin’ first... Can’t die on you...”
“No, you can’t.” Her voice was sharp. She pushed up to stare down at him. But he’d dropped his flashlight when his knees buckled, and he couldn’t see her face clearly. Just the darkness.
He wanted her mouth again.
He also wanted to just sleep.
Then he heard fabric ripping. He realized his eyes had sagged closed. He opened them and saw the flash of light. Tina still had her flashlight, and she was shining it on him.
She’d ripped away his shirt.
“How were you even moving?” Tina whispered. “You drove for so long.”
Soldiers didn’t stop moving. Not until the mission was done. He’d needed to get Tina to safety.
He had.
“Drew!”
He realized that she’d been calling his name. Again and again. He frowned at her.
“I’m going to remove the bullet, and I’ll sew you up, but I don’t have anything to numb the area. The kit had some alcohol and some antibiotics, but—”
“Do...it,” he growled. They’d have to run again, soon. He needed the wound closed by then.
She climbed over him. With them bound, he knew that Tina had to be creative with her movements.
If he hadn’t been hurting so much, he would have truly enjoyed having her straddle him.
Next time.
She put the flashlight at the top of the old headboard so that it shone down on him. “One hand,” she muttered. “I can’t believe I have to do this with one hand.”
He jiggled their connected wrists. “Use me.”
“You’re about to pass out on me.” She nibbled her lower lip. She’d taken the gloves from the first-aid pack. Put them on. “Don’t get an infection. Don’t get an infection...”
He didn’t think she was talking to him anymore. She seemed to be repeating that mantra to herself.
When she started applying pressure and digging that bullet out, he pulled in a deep breath. He locked his gaze on her face. Focused only on her.
He’d been shot on another mission, just a few months back. He’d been lured into a trap. Hit before he’d had a chance to call for backup. When he’d woken in the hospital, Tina had been there. “You were...worried about me,” he said, remembering.
She glanced at him. “Are you staying with me, Drew?”
“Always,” he whispered.
“Good. Because I’m not planning to let you go.” Her lips curved. She was so gorgeous when she smiled. Did she realize that?
She even had a dimple in her left cheek. A little slash that would peek out every now and then.
The dimple wasn’t showing at that moment. Tina had to really smile, had to really laugh, for it to come out. He’d caught her laughing with her friend Sydney once. That was when he’d first seen the dimple.
He’d been lost, staring at her.
“Stitching you up,” she said. “Just a little bit longer.”
He’d watched her that day, and he’d wanted. But there had been another mission waiting for him. There always was. And, even if there hadn’t been, he didn’t know how to approach a woman like her.
Wining and dining. Those were tricks that other guys used. He didn’t know anything about romance.
He just knew too much about death.
“All done.”
Drew glanced down. She’d put a bandage over his wound.
“Thanks, Doc.” He owed her. He’d find a way to repay that debt.
“Thanks for getting me out of that place,” she whispered back to him. A soft, wet cloth pushed over his skin and smoothed down his chest.
He tensed.
Her hand lightly stroked him. “Easy. It’s a bacterial wipe from the kit. I’m just going to clean the blood away.”
“Tina...”
Her hand stilled. She looked up at him.
Focus. “Don’t...leave the house.”
She nodded then smiled. One of those real smiles that flashed her dimple.