Page 151 of Captive Audience

She scanned the chart, then looked at me. “Can you tell me your pain level right now on a scale from zero to ten?”

I hesitated. Everything hurt. “Eight. Maybe nine.”

She nodded and jotted it down. “All right. You’ve got a patient-controlled analgesia pump. This button here”—she pointed to the remote resting by my hand—“will give you a dose of pain relief through your IV when you need it. Don’t be afraid to use it. Keeping ahead of the pain will help your recovery.”

“Thank you,” I said, meaning it. My whole body screamed for relief, but I didn’t touch the button. “Not yet. I want a clear head for a little while.”

“Understood.” Kate set the clipboard aside and pulled on a pair of gloves. “Let me take a quick look at your dressings.”

She lifted the edge of my gown, exposing the thick bandage taped across my side. Her touch was careful, but the movement sent a hot flare through me. I hissed and clenched the sheets in my fists.

“Be gentle with her,” Rook snapped, and shot from his seat.

Kate flicked her gaze to him without losing her cool. “I am being gentle. She’s just very tender right now. And if you don’t watch your tone, I’ll have security escort you from the building.”

That didn’t ease the tension bracketing Rook’s mouth. His eyes still fixated on the bandage and Kate’s hands like he wanted to go to war with them.

Before he could dig himself into an even deeper hole, I said, “Rook. I’m fine. Stand down and let her do her job.”

He raked his hands through his hair. “You don’t look bloody fine.”

“Actually”—Kate peeled off her gloves and stuffed them in a nearby medical waste unit—“she’s doing remarkably well. Dressing is clean and dry. No fresh bleeding. Everything looks good right now.”

She made a note in the clipboard and returned it to the slot at the end of my bed. “I’ll be back to check on you again shortly.”

When she slipped out, the room fell quiet. It was then I noticed the two suited men standing sentry at my door. Neither of them was my bodyguard.

“Where’s Finn?” I asked.

Rook sat back down. “He’s here, just in another ward.”

“He’s hurt?”

Rook nodded. “He got in a shoot-out with the Russians whenthey kidnapped you. Finn took a bullet to the thigh. He’s lucky to be alive.”

Guilt tore me up. Finn had been hurt doing his job protecting me.

I tried to sit up, but fire tore across my abdomen, and I collapsed back against the pillows with a groan.

“Christ, Asha.” Rook pressed a hand to my shoulder to hold me still. “If you need to move, ask me.”

“Is Finn going to be okay?”

“Aye. But the bullet shattered his femur. He had emergency surgery to save his leg when they first brought him in. They’re putting him back under this afternoon to see if they can do a better job of repairing it, but it doesn’t look like he’ll be able to fight again. Not professionally, at least.”

“When can I see him?”

“You’re in no state to roam the hospital. And Finn’s not in the mood for visitors right now. He’s taking the news hard and needs some time.”

My heart broke for him. Fighting wasn’t just a sport to Finn. It was his dream, his purpose. To have it ripped away in a single night…the weight of that loss must be unbearable.

“I have some good news for you. We received word from Brandon that his Zulu mercs recovered several of the women trafficked out of Philly. Sierra is one of them.”

Relief washed through me again, and tears prickled my eyes. I could hardly believe it. Her parents must be overjoyed.

“Is she all right?” I asked.

Rook’s face tightened. “Physically, yes. Emotionally…she’s got a long road ahead. Brandon’s team took her to their ranch in Montana, where they help trafficking victims heal from their trauma. Sierra will be well cared for there until she’s ready to come home.”