Page 40

The machine shook, the engine chugging a couple times as the aircraft dropped a few feet.

Foster held on, working the throttle. Using the wind and the drafts to give him a boost when the fields appeared in front of him.

Trees surrounded the open space, an empty parking lot running down the left side.

He lined up the pavement, chancing it would be a safer bet than risking the grass. Possibly having the skid gear catch on a gopher hole or snag a fallen branch.

The aircraft chugged, again, the fuel gauge hugging the bottom, as he barely cleared the thrashing branches, allowing the chopper to virtually drop out of the sky.

He flared off the speed at the last moment, then drove the helicopter onto the asphalt.

The machine shook, rocking across the lot until it finally rolled to a stop, the engine cutting off a second later.

That ghostly voice whispered, “Hooyah,” in his ear, then faded, leaving a sense of lightness in its place.

Foster bowed his head, uttering a prayer of thanks when Zain clapped him on the back.

His buddy grinned as he shook his head, staring out at the pouring rain. “Now that’s how you come out of retirement. Welcome back, Beckett.”

Having Chase bark out orders killed any sense of accomplishment, and Foster was out of his seat and grabbing one end of the stretcher a moment later.

Chase had the other, despite his shoulder not being close to healed, and they ran down the short stretch of road then turned onto the parking lot, still running.

The chopper must have made one hell of a racket — or maybe Atticus had heard them fly over and hedged his bet as to where they were headed — because there was a full medical team waiting next to the helipad.

They converged on him and Chase, taking Mac then rushing her into the emergency room as more staff brought out wheelchairs for the other wounded.

Someone grabbed Foster’s arm, asking him if he was okay, but he brushed them off, sticking on Mac’s six as they wheeled her down the hallway then into a room. He stopped at the door, trying to keep his focus on her as the lead physician called out stats, none of which were encouraging.

A nurse blocked his way, muttering that they needed to work on her, but he simply pushed on through. He couldn’t leave her. Not when he hadn’t gotten the chance to tell her how he felt. That she was his anchor. His sanity.

His damn soul.

The scenery swam a bit, and he took a staggering step back when Chase and Zain grabbed him, steering him into another room — tsking when he tried to resist.

Chase moved in front, arms mostly crossed, his death glare in full effect. “You can either sit your ass down and let them treat all those wounds, or I’ll sedate you, myself. Your choice, brother.”

“I’m fine. Mac…” He couldn’t say it. Couldn’t jinx it.

Chase didn’t falter. “You’re not fine. You’ve got a bullet lodged in your arm, some kind of graze across your thigh, and what I think is a knife wound on your ribs.

So, sit down and stay there until they’re done with you.

Mac’s in good hands, but they can’t help her if you’re in there, looking as if you might fall on top of her from simply breathing. ”

“If I did that, at least she’d know I was in the room.”

“Foster…”

“I need her to know I’m there. That I’ll have her back like she had mine.” He paused to take a breath, aware the next few words would change everything. Make it acutely real. “That I fucking love her.”

Chase grinned, then nudged Zain’s arm. “Told ya. And she does know. Christ, you flew through a damn cyclone to get her to the hospital. She knows what it took for you to get behind the controls.”

Foster swayed, again, tripping onto the exam table before fisting his best friend’s shirt and dragging him in close. “Don’t let them give up on her.”

“I won’t. Promise. Now, stay. I’ll drag Kash’s ass in here, too, and you can both sit there brooding while you wait for a doctor to treat you.”

Chase disappeared out the door, yelling Kash’s name. Foster thought about stumbling back to the other trauma room, but Zain stepped in front of him, shaking his head as he glared at Foster.

Foster groaned, nearly toppling off the slab when everything shifted, again. “You don’t have to glare at me, Zain.”

“Oh, I do, or you’ll think you’ve got a chance at besting me. You don’t, by the way, even with my shoulder screwed. So, don’t make me dump you on your ass.”

Foster huffed, but didn’t challenge Zain, looking up when Chase helped Kash stagger through the door.

Chase plunked Kash onto a chair, shaking his head as he took them all in. “Just once, I’d love for you jackasses to follow my orders without being dicks about it.”

Foster shrugged. “Then, stop telling us shit we don’t want to hear.”

“Then, stop getting shot.”

“I tried that. But you all kept on badgering me.”

Chase sighed. “Guess we really aren’t cut out for the quiet life.” He nodded at Foster. “Glad to have you back. Though, Atticus is going to tear you a new one when he sees what state you left his helicopter in.”

Foster blinked, cursing when he realized he was lying on the table, now. “He can try…”

“Rest, buddy. We’ll get you fixed up, then we’ll all wait together.”

Did being dead hurt?

Because that’s all that registered. Pain. Through her head, her ribs, her chest. Deep. Burning. It bled through the darkness, drawing her up for a few moments as she struggled to open her eyes only to plunge her back down.

Burying her in that numbing haze.

Voices echoed in the distance as she drifted somewhere between consciousness and sleep until a loud bang jolted her awake.

She bolted upright, looking for whoever had fired the gun, when more of that red-hot pain shot through her shoulder and into her lungs, stealing what little air she’d gulped in.

A man tsked, holding her steady as he leaned in close. “Somehow I knew you’d go from zero to raging war the moment you woke up.”

Mackenzie inhaled, staring up at Foster as he held her close, bracing her weight against his side.

Stubble shadowed his jaw, his long hair tousled all over his head.

But it was those blue-green eyes that held her focus.

Staring at her as if he’d been convinced he wouldn’t see her again.

What looked dangerously like the love she felt bubbling through her chest.

She relaxed, groaning when even that small movement shifted her shoulder. “Where…”

Her mouth went dry, her tongue feeling too big to form more words.

He sighed as he grabbed a cup and offered her a sip of water. He smiled when she drank a few gulps. “I know the feeling. Anesthesia’s the worst. And you’re in the hospital where you should be sleeping, but you’re awake, now, because some idiot just tipped over a cart in the hallway.”

“Kash?”

“He’s fine. In fact, everyone’s fine, so you focus on healing, okay?”

“What about Striker?”

“No longer a threat, especially if your father has anything to say about it. He’s been calling in every favor he has to ensure the creep gets tossed in some deep, dark cell.”

She nodded, fading a bit before a few snapshots of the harrowing chopper ride shuffled in her mind. She fisted Foster’s shirt, doing her best to tug him closer. “You flew the chopper!”

“I told you not to count me out. That I just needed the right motivation.” Foster chuckled. “No surprise it was you, sweetheart.”

“But…” Mac motioned him closer with a tilt of her head. “Thank you.”

“Pretty sure you saved me more, but I’m not above accepting your undying gratitude once you’re able to do more than sleep.” He dropped a soft kiss on her nose. “We’ve still got some big plans to cash in on.”

“Let’s go.”

“Oh, no. Chase will have my ass if I bust you out of here. Sleep. We’ll see how you are in the morning.”

She tightened her grip. “Don’t leave.”

He scoffed. “Not a chance. In fact…”

He scooped his hands underneath her and gently shuffled her over, freeing up a quarter of the bed. Then he climbed on, wrapping his arm around her back as he helped her settle across his lap.

She burrowed against him, closing her eyes as everything clicked into place. “Much better.”

“Then, sleep. I’ll see if I can sweet talk Chase in the morning. Get him to be your proxy medic. But for now, I’ve got your six.”

She hummed, fading into the darkness only to rouse sometime later. Light streamed in through the far window, Foster’s arm still wrapped around her back.

He gave her a light squeeze, holding her steady until she stared up at him. “Morning, beautiful. How’s the pain?”

Mac stilled, then cautiously shifted, biting her bottom lip at the deep ache that throbbed through her left side. Less red-hot than before, but still more intense than she wanted to admit.

Foster sighed. “That bad, huh.”

She allowed him to help her up, only cursing once when her shoulder twisted funny. “It’s a lot better than before.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a horrible liar. Like, worse than Kash, and he’s terrible.”

“Hey, I heard that.”

Mac snapped her head around, grinning at the rest of Foster’s team all huddled together on some kind of love seat. One they’d obviously dragged in from somewhere else in the hospital.

Foster made a show of rolling his eyes. “Not anything we haven’t told you a hundred times before, buddy. Why do you think you lose so often at poker?”

Kash leaned back against the cushions. “Because you mess with my cards.”

Foster laughed. “See? Horrible.”

Mac palmed his jaw, loving how he nuzzled into her touch. “Are you okay?”

“Physically or mentally? Physically, I’ll have a few new scars for you to trace. Mentally…” He shrugged. “More ghosts. Fewer demons.”

“I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks to you. If you hadn’t talked me off that ledge?—”

“My chopper might still be in one piece.”

Mac sighed as her father’s voice boomed through the room before he stopped at the end of the bed. Arms crossed. His usual scowl firmly in place. “Do you have any idea how many bullet holes there are?”

“Of course I do. I flew the damn thing.” Foster eased back, allowing Atticus to shuffle over and give her a hug. “And at least I didn’t crash it.”

“No, you just pushed the poor thing to its limits then left it rotting in the middle of a parking lot.”

“I was a bit busy not dying.”

Atticus rolled his eyes. “Pilots. They’re so dramatic.”

Mac arched a brow. “You do realize you just insulted me, too, right?”

“Like your boyfriend said. Nothing you haven’t heard a hundred times before.”

“Boyfriend?”

Her dad simply snorted as he turned to face Foster. “So, I believe I told Mac that you were only authorized to help out if you agreed to sign up.”

Foster scoffed. “Are you seriously trying to blackmail me right now?”

“I don’t have to try, son. I’ll drop the appropriate papers off at your house later today.

I assume Mac’s going back there after you four bust her out.

Make sure you’ve got beer, coffee and plenty of pizza.

Oh, and I’m putting you in the rotation once Charlie fixes that mess you made. So, make peace with it.”

Atticus headed for the door, stopping short. “I’ve got an order in for another bird. It should be here within the month. Send me a few names of pilots you’d trust with your team’s life, and I’ll give them a chance. Give you and Mac a shot at a real life.”

Foster chuckled. “The only two pilots I trust to fly my team around are in this room. But I know a few guys who more than measure up for the new recruits you’ll need to hire to man two choppers.”

“And to think I wanted you to join.” Atticus looked back at Foster over his shoulder. “Welcome to Raven’s Watch, Beckett. Your dad would be very proud.”

Foster shook his head as Atticus ambled out, humming to himself. “He’s never going to let me forget he won.”

“Did he? Because I’m feeling pretty damn victorious myself.”

Kash groaned, tossing a tissue at them. “Christ, can you both just confess your love so we can bust out of here? I need coffee.”

Foster closed his eyes, looking as if he was seeking biblical intervention. “Not an ounce of tact.”

She drew him in close. “And yet, not lying that time.”

Foster’s eyes widened and he got impossibly closer, his kissable lips just a breath away. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you love me?”

“It wasn’t subtle.”

“And yet, not concrete.”

She brushed her finger across his lips. “You’re gonna make me say the words, aren’t you?”

His gaze softened. “How about I say them first?”

Warmth spread through her chest, and she knew this was the reason she’d kept fighting. Kept hoping. “And have you gloat about it later? I don’t think so.”

“Are you always going to keep score?”

“Not as long as I’m winning. And this kind of win lasts a lifetime because I love you, Beckett. Demons and all.”

That got her a soul-searing kiss.

“Damn straight you do. Almost as much as I love you. So, don’t get too cocky and think you’ve got the championship in the bag. This battle’s only just beginning.”

“Bring it. Now, what was that about busting me out?”