Page 36 of Protected By West (San Antonio S.W.A.T. #1)

WEST

He didn't leave her side from the time they left the credit union. When they arrived at Sagebrush Hospital, he stuck to her side like glue. While Tracy was handling things like a boss, he was barely managing to put one foot in front of the other.

It was one thing to know that he was in danger when he put the badge on, she was... a normal person.

She was one of the people he was supposed to protect.

And she was the person he loved.

Standing there beside the bed in the emergency room watching as a doctor examined her for injuries and a nurse cleaned the cuts and the drying blood from her legs, Weston felt sick to his stomach.

"Sir?"

Weston startled when someone touched his arm, and he looked down to see Tracy smiling up at him. "Weston? The doctor's asking you a question."

Oh?

He reached his free arm across his body and covered her hand with his own.

He didn't miss the way her smile brightened. He didn't miss how pale she was either.

Weston sat down on the edge of the bed and while he kept her hand in his, he moved his arm between them, wrapping it around behind her. "Go ahead, baby, lean on my shoulder for a little, 'kay?"

When she leaned against him, he enjoyed the feel of her warmth against him.

She relaxed and he was grateful not just that she trusted him enough to lean against him, she let him hold her up.

He never wanted something like this to happen to her again, he wasn't sure that he could take it if he had to see her in harm's way again.

"Weston?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"The doctor wants to know if they need to do any evidentiary work on me."

He squeezed her hand gently and looked up to meet the doctor's slightly amused gaze. He'd worked with Doctor Carter a few times and Weston had a feeling that the good doctor was going to use this moment to tease him later.

"We don't need any blood evidence. My team looked at the security cameras in the credit union. They have excellent images and sound recording."

He felt Tracy shake a little and then he heard a soft chuckle.

"Are you laughing at me, babe?"

She sighed and leaned against him even more.

"I'm just glad you noticed. I've always seen those horrible cam videos on YouTube and wonder what kind of cameras they have in banks and other credit unions.

RING camera footage is better. So one of the things I lobbied for with the board was top notch security cameras so when we had an incident we wouldn't be left squinting at the footage trying to guess what was what and who was who. "

"You are amazing, Trace. You know that, right?"

"Awww," she gave his hand a squeeze. "You're good for my ego."

"Okay, you two." The doctor gave them a smile. "I'm going to head out. As soon as your cuts are cleaned and bandaged, the nurses will give you instructions on wound care."

Tracy looked down at the long scrape she had on her forearm. She hadn’t really noticed it until they were in the ER and she touched it with a wipe to clean it. Then it hurt like a son of a …

"But her head-"

"You might have missed me asking about that, but I think you were too deep in thought to hear that whole conversation.

" The doctor nodded at him and folded his arms, tucking his clipboard against his chest. "She knows to let us know if she has any signs of a concussion, but right now, I'm recommending some bed rest and pain pills when necessary," he gave Tracy a slow nod.

"Be good to yourself, you've earned it."

The doctor left a moment later and the nurse finished cleaning and bandaging the cuts on Tracy's legs. Weston felt like he was about ready to crawl out of his skin. He was ready to pick her up in his arms and carry her out of the hospital and back to his house.

He jumped and looked down, his forehead creased with confusion and pain. Tracy slowly lifted her fingers from where she'd just pinched him.

Then she turned her head to look up at him. "There you are."

"I've been sitting right here, babe."

He didn't have the same amount of swagger in his words that he normally did. He was definitely struggling.

"You've got that 'man-with-the-weight-on-his-shoulders' look about you. And I'm worried that you're not telling me what's going on in your head."

"Too much." The words came out before he'd really thought them through. It wasn't Shakespeare but it wasn't a grunt. "Do you want to come back to my place tonight? I have a few things to talk to you about."

Something changed in her expression. If he hadn't been looking right at her face, he might have missed it.

"Is this..." She drew in a breath that had her shoulders raising up toward her ears. "Is this about my dad being your boss?"

To say he felt like he'd been hit was an understatement. He felt like he'd been hit in the chest with a battering ram.

With out the benefit of padding.

He bit the inside of his cheek and braced himself for the hell he knew was coming.

"Babe-"

One brow lifted, cutting off any words he wanted to put after that, and her lips thinned into a pale line.

"Right now, I'd rather not talk about this. At least, I'd rather not say the questions I have in my head. Maybe... you could just tell me what you should have instead of this being a back and forth."

She stood up and he was right behind her, reaching for her in case she stumbled.

His hand touched her lower back, and she tensed a little, drawing away from him.

The ease from the last few minutes was gone.

Likely the tail end of the adrenaline rush from the standoff.

Hostage situation , his brain provided.

"Tracy, I-"

"Please," she cut him off with a single word, her eyes directed away from his face. "I don't want to talk about this right now. I want to go home and put my feet up and have a few drinks before you explain just how angry I'm going to be at you."

He turned, almost facing her, but she still wouldn't meet his eyes. "I know you're angry and you've got every right to be-"

"You've got that right, butthole ."

If she wasn't vibrating with anger, he might have laughed at that or even chuckled.

But he didn't want to die.

Especially not in a hospital.

If she unmanned him like he thought she might, he wouldn't want to be saved.

"I want to clear things up between us."

"You bet your ass you're going to clear things up, bucko ."

Weston winced at her words.

She could have picked more colorful curses to throw at him. He might have preferred those.

At the moment he felt like her anger was carefully reined in, which, in his estimation, was a lot scarier than her throwing something at him.

"I'm going to go and get your discharge papers and a wheelchair-"

She gave him a look that promised pain.

"Babe, don't look at me like that. It's hospital policy."

Her head dropped and her chin nearly touched her chest. "I know... I know." She sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"I'll wait. Just hurry up. I plan to take my pain meds when we get home and have a few drinks of something. So let's get this show on the road."

Weston nodded and moved toward the door. He knew that he was in shit trouble, but this wasn't something he could do a strategic retreat from. He'd have to go through this hell and hope that there was some redemption at the other end of it.

Could've.

Would've.

Should've.

Those three words said it all at that moment.

He had the time to tell her, but he'd cop'd out on it.

He'd pushed it off, waiting for the 'right' moment.

But he knew that was a damn lie.

He just didn't want to put a big ass hurdle in the way of where their relationship was going.

He was a fucking coward.

Sure, he'd burst through a door and take whatever was coming at him, but talk to his girlfriend about her dad?

He moved over to the nurse's hub and one of the nurses gave him a smile. "Discharge papers for Tracy Fagan?"

He nodded.

The nurse lifted a hand to flag an orderly. "Wheelchair for release." She looked at the wall sized whiteboard on the wall. "Bay 3, please."

"Got it." The orderly walked to the wall where the wheelchairs were grouped. And wheeled one away.

Weston leaned on the counter and took the papers when the nurse handed them to him. "Do I need to sign anything?"

She shook her head. "No, sir. Just make a stop at the pharmacy window. They should have her pain medication ready to go."

She looked up at him again. "Any questions?"

He shook his head. "I'm just eager to get her home and baby her a little."

The look on the nurse's face said that she thought he was sweet.

He was just hoping that Tracy didn't gut him with a dull butter knife.

She stood and handed him the papers. "Good luck."

He stood there, frozen like a statue for a moment. Did he have existential dread written on his face?

"Thanks."

TRACY

She looked up when she saw movement in the gap of the curtains and her heart came to a sudden and screeching stop.

"Dad?"

Seamus Fagan was standing just outside the curtain, his hat literally in hand.

Tracy opened her mouth to speak and while she didn't expect that she'd say anything worth noting but her brain had almost disconnected from her mouth.

"I didn't think you'd wear your hat inside."

Her dad looked down at his hat and nodded. "Old habits."

When he looked back up at her she got a good look at the man he'd become instead of the man in her memories.

Seamus Fagan was still tall, but she was sitting down. When she stood up, she knew she'd be closer to his height now. He looked thinner.

Not weaker, just leaner, with less big muscle than he'd had before.

"So..." She pressed her lips together and almost smiled when she saw him do the same. "Are you just passing through? Or-"

"I heard about the standoff through dispatch. Weston had one of his team call me to let me know you were involved." He looked at his hat, turning it a quarter of the brim with his fingers. "I followed the progress from my office."

Tracy felt a little crestfallen at his words.

He'd heard, but he didn't come to the scene.