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“A personal vendetta. These are good people. Bash works with them. He’s Chelsea’s partner.”
Shelby remembers my best friend from all the years we served together and closes her eyes in relief. “This Chelsea. She means something to you.”
“I’m in love with her.”
Now, Shelby smiles, fingering her wedding band. “I’m glad, Jackson.”
Caleb’s door opens again, this time for a nurse. She’s pushing a care cart and stops next to my wheelchair. “Since you refuse to stay in your room, I just came here.”
She checks my vitals and switches out the empty IV bags for two more before vacating the room again. With Shelby watching Caleb, I decide to step out to check on Chelsea. “You’ll be here for a while?” I ask.
“I’m not leaving until he does,” she confirms.
“Okay. I’ll be back.”
Instead of fighting the wheelchair and IV stand, I grip the pole and push onto my feet. My legs are a little unsteady, but I’m vertical. I keep a hand on the pole, glad for the broad rolling base.
Hawk leans against the wall opposite my son’s door. “Where did everyone go?”
“Home. They’ll be back in the morning.”
“Chelsea?”
“She’s in your room.”
The clock over the nurse’s station reads half past midnight. “You should go home, too. The man’s dead.”
Hawk tilts his head, unconvinced. “Are you certain Ames was working alone?”
When I don’t answer, he says, “Get some rest, Lieutenant.”
I shuffle three doors down to my assigned room, finding Chelsea stretched out on the bed and Birdie balanced on Bastien’s lap. “How’s Caleb?” my friend asks.
“He woke up briefly. The doc says he’ll be fine. Just needs to sleep it off.”
Bash points to my IV bags. “He getting the same cocktail you are?”
“Yep.” I reach the bed and tap Chelsea’s hip to make room for me.
Bash points between us as I climb up. “By the way, whose room is this?”
Chelsea
I answer with a yawn. “It’s his. I didn’t need one. Everyone knows Marines are tougher than SEALs.”
Jackson snickers and lies back on the inclined mattress. I lift my head to rest on his shoulder and drape an arm across his middle. Jackson wraps an arm around my back, making sure to miss the bandage covering the gunshot wound. “At least this one is.”
Knowing Caleb will recover fully, Jackson’s thoughts turn elsewhere. “No one’s given me an update on Captain. She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Bash shakes his head. “Last I heard, she was defying the odds. Spatch and Piper are watching over her at the pet hospital. From Spatch’s reports, the Malinois laid beside Captain and hasn’t left her side.”
Jackson yawns, and Birdie nudges Bash in the ribs. “Let’s go so they can rest.”
The room is soon quiet. Jackson hits the button on the rails to turn off the lights and rests his cheek on my head. His heart beats strong beneath my ear, reassuring me we’re both alive. Still, I shudder, thinking about what almost happened.
“You didn’t,” he whispers.
“What?”