Page 16 of Blade (Spartan Watchmen MC #5)

From her position at the edge of the clearing, she could see Blade's truck parked haphazardly in the driveway, driver's door open. Blade himself was nowhere in sight, but the sporadic gunfire suggested he was pinned down somewhere, exchanging shots with the remaining attackers.

She counted three men still active. The leader, clutching his bloodied shoulder, barking orders from behind an SUV, and two others using trees for cover as they fired toward the side of the cabin.

Blade must be around the corner, using the cabin's structure for protection. Three against one. Not good odds, especially since they had him pinned.

Lily took a deep breath, steadying herself. She could help even those odds.

Moving silently along the tree line, she circled to get a better angle on the men. The leader was her primary target. If she could take him out, the others might lose coordination, might make mistakes.

She raised the Beretta, sighting down the barrel at the leader's head. He was partially protected by the SUV, but his injured shoulder and part of his head were exposed.

Her hands trembled. Taking a life in the heat of desperate struggle was one thing. This felt different. This was colder, more calculated.

But necessary, she reminded herself. To save Blade. To save yourself.

She squeezed the trigger.

The shot went wide, striking the SUV's window instead of the leader. Glass shattered. The leader ducked completely behind the vehicle, now alert to her presence.

"The girl!" he shouted. "East side! Take her alive!"

One of the other men immediately changed direction, moving toward her position with his weapon raised.

Damn it.

She fired again, forcing the approaching man to take cover behind a tree. But she'd given away her position now. Her advantage of surprise was gone.

"Lily?" Blade's voice called from somewhere near the cabin. "Lily, is that you?"

"Blade!" she shouted back. "Three men! The leader is injured!"

A burst of automatic fire answered her, forcing her to duck behind a thick tree trunk as bullets splintered bark inches from her head.

"Stay down!" Blade called. "I'm coming to you!"

"No!" she yelled. "They'll cut you down in the open!"

But it was too late. She heard him moving, the sound of his boots on gravel as he sprinted toward her position. Gunfire erupted from the men, trying to stop him.

Then a grunt of pain. A thud.

"Blade!" she screamed, terror clawing at her throat.

No answer.

No, no, no.

She peered around the tree, desperate for a visual. What she saw made her heart stop.

Blade was down, sprawled on the ground halfway between the cabin and the tree line. Blood stained his shirt. He’d been hit either in the shoulder or upper chest, she couldn't tell from this distance. He was moving, trying to crawl toward cover, but vulnerable in the open.

The leader emerged from behind the SUV, pistol raised, limping toward Blade's prone form. Victory was written all over his battered face.

"End of the line, enforcer," he called. "Zeb sends his regards."

Time seemed to slow. Lily saw the leader's finger tightening on the trigger. Saw Blade struggling to raise his own weapon, too slow, too late.

Without conscious thought, she stepped out from behind the tree, Beretta raised. This time, her hands were steady. This time, when she pulled the trigger, there was no hesitation, no trembling.

The leader's head snapped back, a red mist spraying into the air behind him. He crumpled to the ground, lifeless before he hit the dirt.

The remaining two men froze in shock at their leader's sudden death. It was all the opening Blade needed. From his position on the ground, he fired twice in rapid succession. Both men fell.

Then silence descended, broken only by the ringing in Lily's ears and the harsh sound of her own breathing.

"Blade," she whispered, then louder, "Blade!"

She ran to him, heedless of potential danger, dropping to her knees beside his prone form. Blood soaked his shirt, spreading in an alarming stain across his chest.

"You're hit," she said unnecessarily, hands hovering over the wound, afraid to touch, afraid to make it worse.

"So... observed," he managed, a pained grimace that might have been attempting to be a smile crossing his face. "What part... of 'stay in the safe room'... didn't you understand? You are in so much trouble little girl."

"The part where you get ambushed and killed because I wasn't here to save your ass," she retorted, tearing open his shirt to assess the damage.

The bullet had caught him high on the left side of his chest, near the shoulder. A through-and-through, from what she could tell. Serious, but probably not immediately fatal if she could stop the bleeding.

"We need to get inside," Blade grunted, trying to sit up. "More might be... coming."

"Don't move," she ordered, pressing her hands firmly over the wound. "You'll bleed out faster."

"Bossy," he muttered, but complied, sinking back onto the ground.

Lily looked around frantically. They were exposed here, vulnerable. But moving Blade in his condition could be dangerous too.

"Can you walk if I help you?" she asked.

He nodded grimly. "Done more... with worse."

Together, they managed to get him upright, his good arm draped over her shoulders, her arm around his waist. Blood soaked them both as they staggered toward the cabin.

Inside, she helped him to the couch, then grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen. Her hands moved automatically, cleaning the wound as best she could, applying pressure bandages to stem the bleeding.

"You're... good at this," Blade observed, his voice strained but clearer now. The pain seemed to be focusing him, bringing him back from the initial shock.

"Dad made sure of it," she replied, working quickly. "Gun safety, self-defense, field medicine. Said I needed to be prepared for anything."

"Smart man," Blade murmured.

"He would like you," she said softly. "You're a lot alike."

Blade's eyes, clouded with pain, searched her face. "Lily... you shouldn't have left the safe room. I told you?—"

"To stay put, I know," she interrupted. "But they were waiting for you. They knew you were coming back. They were going to kill you and take me to Zeb. They were military, or ex-military. Professional."

"Reynolds," Blade said grimly. "The tracker Zeb hired."

"You knew?" she asked, surprised.

"Found out at the cabin," he explained. "Tried to call, warn you. No signal in the mountains." His hand caught hers, gripping tightly despite his weakened state. "I was afraid I'd be too late."

The raw emotion in his voice made her throat tighten. "I was afraid too," she whispered. "That's why I couldn't just hide and wait. I had to try to warn you."

His eyes held hers, something powerful and unspoken passing between them. "You saved my life out there."

"After you saved mine," she reminded him. "Call it even."

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Not even close, baby girl. Not even close."

The term of endearment, spoken in his pain-roughened voice, sent a wave of warmth through her. Despite everything, despite the danger, the violence, the blood staining both their clothes, she felt safe for the first time since he'd left.

Because he was back. Hurt, but alive. And they were together.

"I killed two men today," she said suddenly, the reality of it hitting her anew. "One in the woods, with your knife. And the leader, when he was about to shoot you."

Blade's expression softened. "I know. I'm sorry you had to do that."

"I'm not," she replied, surprising herself with the honesty of it. "Not if it meant saving you."

His hand reached up, cupping her cheek gently. "That's a heavy weight to carry."

"Then we'll carry it together," she said simply.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the air between them charged with unspoken emotions. Then Blade winced, a fresh wave of pain clearly washing over him.

"We need to get you to a doctor," Lily said, reality intruding once more. "You've lost a lot of blood."

Blade shook his head. "Can't risk a hospital. Too many questions. Call Savage. Tell him to bring Doc here."

She nodded, reaching for the satellite phone on the coffee table. As she dialed, Blade's hand caught hers again.

"Lily," he said, his voice suddenly urgent. "I need you to know something. In case... in case things go sideways."

"Don't," she protested. "You're going to be fine."

"Just listen," he insisted. "These past few days, with you... they've meant something. To me. More than I expected. More than I thought possible." He swallowed hard. "If I don't make it?—"

"You will," she interrupted fiercely. "I didn't just kill two men to save your life only for you to give up on me now."

A pained chuckle escaped him. "So stubborn."

"You have no idea," she muttered, squeezing his hand before returning to the phone.

As she connected with Savage, explaining the situation in rapid, efficient terms, she kept her eyes on Blade. His color was bad, his breathing shallow. The bandages she'd applied were already soaking through with blood.

He needed help, and soon. But he was strong. A fighter. He'd survived worse, she was sure of it.

And he had something to live for now. Something they both did.

Each other.

That realization should have terrified her. Should have sent her running in the opposite direction. Attachment was dangerous. Caring meant vulnerability. Love, if that's what this was becoming, meant opening yourself to devastating loss.

But as she watched Blade fighting to stay conscious, his eyes never leaving her face even as pain etched lines around them, she knew it was already too late for caution. Too late for fear.

Whatever this was between them, was growing, strengthening, becoming something neither of them had expected but both, perhaps, had needed more than they knew.

"Doc's on his way," she told Blade, returning to his side. "Savage too. They'll be here within the hour."

He nodded weakly. "Good. That's... good."

His eyelids were growing heavy, the blood loss taking its toll. Panic seized her.

"Stay with me," she urged, taking his face in her hands. "Blade, look at me. Stay awake."

"Trying," he murmured, his words slurring slightly. "Just... need to rest a minute."

"No rest," she commanded, her voice taking on the firm tone he often used with her. "That's an order, enforcer. You stay awake until Doc gets here."

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Yes, ma'am."

"I mean it," she insisted. "Talk to me. Tell me... tell me about when you were a SEAL. Tell me anything."

He blinked slowly, fighting to focus. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," she said softly. "I want to know everything about you."

And as the minutes ticked by, waiting for help to arrive, that's exactly what he gave her, pieces of himself, shared in a pain-roughened voice that sometimes drifted but never quite faded. Stories of missions and brotherhood. Of loss and triumph. Of a life lived on the edge of danger.

Lily listened, hanging on every word, offering sips of water, changing blood-soaked bandages, doing anything she could to keep him present, to keep him with her.

Because somehow, in the space of three chaotic days, this man had become her anchor. Her protector. Her…

Daddy.

The word surfaced in her mind, no longer frightening or embarrassing. Just right. Fitting. True.

And as Blade fought to stay conscious, his eyes never leaving hers even as pain clouded them, she made him a silent promise.

Whatever happens, wherever this leads, I'm all in. We'll figure it out together.

Because that's what you did when you found your person. You held on, through blood and pain and danger.

You held on, and you never let go.