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“Trey!” Randi shouts. The heart monitor picks up, sending frantic beeps blaring through the room.

“Benson,” Tank yells, yanking on my shoulder.

All I see is red. Again I lunge over the bed, desperate to get my hands on the fucker.

“She almost died, you fucking cunt.”

“Not because of me,” he bites back.

“It was fucking rat poison,” I shout. A massive arm wraps around my stomach, hauling me backward. The wall rattles, pain bursting along my spine as Tank slams my back against the drywall. “Why do you think that is?”

The door slams open, and three men in suits storm through the door. Another set of hands pins me to the wall, but still I struggle. All the pent-up rage and all-consuming guilt fuels my every move.

“Get it together,” Tank grits out in my ear with another hard shove to my right shoulder. “We don't know, remember?”

I cringe at the bite of pain piercing my shoulder.

“Everyone, out,” Randi calmly says over the chaos I've created. “Let him go. He won't hurt me.” Over the one marine's shoulders, I see her turn to Sam. “But he might kill you.”

“He could try,” Sam says, glaring at me.

“Just stop,” she snaps. “Yes, I'm still going to help. But not if you don't leave right now.” He doesn't make a single move toward the door. “Out!” she yells. “Everyone.”

The hands restraining me loosen. When the men step back, I inhale a deep, calming breath. The cool air burns down my dry throat. The three marines file out, the last one shooting a daring glare over his shoulder before disappearing through the doorway. Sam grumbles something I can't make out as he strides out seconds behind the uniformed men.

Randi looks to Tank and arches a brow. “You too, T. I need to talk to Trey, alone.”

“That's not protocol. I can't leave you, not when this just happened, with only one agent—one psycho agent, at that—to protect you.”

Her hospital gown-covered chest rises with a deep inhale. “Fine. Go stand in the corner and don't listen to our conversation.”

He smiles. “I'll sit right here and play Candy Crush.”

“How about you look up lasting effects of rat poisoning on a late-thirties female.”

“Not nearly as fun.”

“But useful,” she says with a smile. “The doctors talk gibberish. Tell me what WebMD says I should do.”

Still smiling, he shakes his head. “Glad you're okay, Randi.”

Tank's features harden when he looks to me. “You're a fucking idiot.”

“I know,” I admit. “But you love me.”

A heavy sigh sounds through the small room. “No clue why. You're a pain in my ass.”

“And mine.” Randi reaches out to me, palm up. “Come here, Trouble.” Soothing calm washes through my veins as I interlace my fingers with hers, silencing the worry and halting my rising anger at the whole damn situation. “What am I going to do with you?”

My knees pop as I crouch low, putting us nearly eye to eye. Careful of the tubes and wires, I slide her hand to my lips and press a hard kiss to the inside of her palm.

“You know it's not all his doing,” she continues. “Kyle's had it out for me before Sam walked into our lives. It might make things a little worse if Kyle finds out, but none of this is because of Sam. We don't even know if it was Kyle. I'm on a lot of people's shit list, you know.”

I nod. She's right. But I still want to blame someone right now. Anyone. I need a direction to turn my anger and frustration toward. A goal. A face. An enemy. Someone other than myself.

“I almost lost you, again.” My voice is raspy as I fight through the battling emotions.

What the hell is wrong with me? I'm stronger than this.