Page 126

The nurse shifted again.
“There was some organ stress,” she admitted carefully. “He coded once on the table, but the team got him back quickly.”
Coded.
The word sank its teeth into her. Stryker muttered something under his breath—a curse, maybe a prayer.
Her stomach turned, but she didn’t flinch. Didn’t let it show.
“Oh, God.”
Stryker placed his hand on her shoulder again, and Hawkeye moved closer to the bed, a little protectively, as if trying to shield her from the news.
Inamorata tipped her head to one side, and it might have been the first time Sasha ever saw the woman’s usual efficiency replaced by quiet concern.
The nurse hesitated. “His vitals are stable for now, but he’s heavily sedated. We won’t know the full picture until he wakes up.”
Sasha let out a slow, measured breath.
So that was it.
They’d patched him back together, but they couldn’t guarantee a damn thing.
Her mind supplied worst-case scenarios faster than she could stop them.
Internal bleeding. Organ failure. Infection.
Her gut twisted.
He’d coded. He’d flatlined, his body shutting down, and she hadn’t been there.
She’d been out cold, completely useless, while Gregorio fought for his life on an operating table.
The nurse must have seen the shift in her expression because her voice softened. “We just need to give him some time.”
Time.
That was the problem, wasn’t it?
Time meant waiting. Waiting meant thinking. Thinking meant drowning in the knowledge that she was the one who’d pulled him into this.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
She was the one who’d gotten him involved.
And now he was in the ICU, tubes and machines keeping him stable, because she hadn’t been careful enough.
“He’s the toughest son of a bitch I know,” Stryker said quietly, reassuringly.
She thought of the wound he still had on his abs, one that had never made him flinch though it must have been horrifically painful.
Blinking against the burn behind her eyes, Sasha asked, “When can I see him?”
The nurse hesitated. “The ICU has strict visitation—”
“I don’t care,” Sasha cut in, her voice sharp, the panic slipping through before she could pull it back. “I need to see him.”
“We’ll make it happen,” Hawkeye interjected quietly, his tone leaving no room for argument.