Chapter Eleven
Jenna pressed harder on Seb’s wound, too much blood welling between her fingers no matter how tightly she squeezed them together.
Seb’s friend, the one they called Alpha, gave him a short but gentle shake.
“Damn it.” Alpha sat back on his heels. “He’s out cold.”
Her heart leaped like a wild animal trying to escape a cage. Her hand was far from steady as she reached down and pressed her fingers into his neck, leaving a smudge of bright-red blood. His pulse registered, but it was weak and slow.
“He’s going to bleed out if we wait here any longer.”
Despite the turmoil churning through her, the words came out calm and rational, outwardly keeping it together like the operator she’d trained to be.
But, God, if Seb died because she dragged him into the dangerous mess of her private war with CI, she’d never forgive herself. And someone would pay. They would pay in immeasurable, throbbing pain for every drop of blood Seb had lost.
Alpha cursed again and threw a desperate glance at Mia. “Comm Sacha back. Tell her we’re on our way up and we’ll meet her halfway.”
Jenna secured the already soaked towels as best she could against Seb’s shoulder, while Alpha hefted the dead weight of him over his shoulder and made a run for the transit.
“Sacha’s almost here. She’s about to exit on this level,” Mia reported as they weaved through the evening crowd of after-shift shoppers and people out to eat on commerce level.
True to her word, as they made it to the bank of transits, one opened and a doctor emerged, leading a team of three with med kits and a stretcher.
Alpha ducked and gently lowered Seb onto the narrow gurney, blood now staining his shirt across his shoulder blades.
The doctor, who happened to be pregnant and just showing—Sacha, she assumed, since no one had done any introductions—didn’t waste any time in checking Seb over and hooking him up to a bag of fluids.
“He’s lost a lot of blood. The blast nicked an artery. Also looks like there’s some extensive nerve damage. We need to get him up to surgery right now. If he doesn’t die, he could still lose function of his arm.”
The words slapped Jenna like a physical blow, leaving her stunned and aching. She’d guessed it was bad, but the news was even worse than she’d imagined. What would he do if he lost use of his arm? Would he even be a fighter pilot anymore? By all accounts, Seb loved his job, it wasn’t just a career, it was his life. Because of her, he might lose it all.
In the few seconds it took to absorb the news, the med team had maneuvered Seb’s stretcher into the transit. She blinked as the doors closed, cutting him off from her, the last sight of him covered in medical equipment, the doctors swarming him burning into her brain.
“Come on, Jenna, we’ll take the next transit up.” Bren touched her shoulder, snapping her out of the daze. “Seb is one tough sonuvabitch. He’ll be fine.”
The words were meant to be comforting, but it was hard to believe them when even Bren didn’t sound certain.
They all piled into the next transit, and no one said anything the entire trip up to med level. As she stepped out on the mostly-deserted med level, her hands felt sticky. She glanced down and her stomach churned at the blood streaked over her fingers and palms. It’d been a long time since the sight of blood had bothered her. In this case, it was personal. It was Seb’s blood, not some random person she didn’t care about.
“We’ll get cleaned up as soon as we hit the waiting room,” Alpha murmured, obviously noticing her focus on her hands. “We might be in for a wait while Sacha works on Seb anyway.”
She nodded absently, trailing the others as they took turns and passageways until they came to the surgical waiting room. She’s been on and off the Knox for years, but never had a reason to visit this part of the ship. She’d been lucky that she’d never been seriously injured, but even with the minor injuries, CI had their own medical suite on board, all to aid in keeping their agents and missions top secret.
Bren and Mia led her into the nearest ladies’ room, and it was like her mind had gone onto automatic pilot.
What was wrong with her?
She’d never gone to pieces or shut down over someone getting shot before. She needed to wake up and start acting like the agent she’d been for the past decade. There were probably things she needed to be doing instead of sitting around in a waiting room on the edge of her seat for news on a guy she’d only met days before. Like he mattered. Like she cared. Like she’d gone and started falling for him. Let someone in for the first time in nearly ten years.
Her throat swelled with a sudden intensity that left her gasping.
“It’ll be okay.” Someone handed her a damp towel and she took it blindly, rushing over to the sink, needing to get Seb’s blood off her hands. The cold water helped soothe some of the heated panic, and she forced herself to take a calming breath. This was not her. No matter what happened, she always kept her cool, stayed detached. Stanton said it was why she’d been one of his best agents. Of course, he could have been the one who’d ordered her execution.
“Sacha is a great doctor. The best we’ve got on board. Seb will be fine.” It was Bren talking, and she focused on the other woman’s words, needing to get herself back together.
She took a deeper lungful of air as the last of the blood swirled down the drain, leaving the water clear. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually go to pieces like that.”
“I’m pretty sure me going to pieces would have been a lot messier if Leigh had been the one shot,” Mia replied. “I’d say you’re doing just fine.”
“It’s not like that with me and Seb, I hardly know him—” The words came too close to the truth, and she gave herself a mental shake. “I mean, I hadn’t seen him for so long we might as well have been strangers.”
For the first time since joining CI, the lies she told to keep her cover gnawed at her conscience, leaving her swimming in guilt. These were good people. Seb’s people. Not the enemy. They cared about him, and by extension, her it seemed. They didn’t deserve to get caught in the web she’d spun, to lose anything the same way it had cost Seb.
Mia squeezed her arm. “When I met Leigh, I spent ages telling myself and everyone else the same thing, that it wasn’t like that between us. But sometimes, I think you meet someone, and no matter how much you fight against it, no matter what seems to be standing in your way, something inevitably draws you together, and trying to resist it is like going against gravity.”
Maybe other people could believe that, people who weren’t CI agents. People who weren’t supposed to be dead. People who had more than a day or two of their lives left. On the small chance she actually survived this madness, without ending up as dead as CI apparently intended her to be, then she’d need to completely disappear and never see Seb again.
However, with Seb in surgery to save his life and his arm, that seemed more like a blessing for him. She’d brought nothing to his life but lies and danger and had nothing else to offer except a looming good-bye.
“Thanks, Mia, but Seb and I are on completely different paths. Of course I care about what happens to him, but I’ll be leaving in a few days, and I doubt we’ll ever see each other again.”
“Whether you’re leaving or not doesn’t change your feelings.” Mia added an understanding, reassuring smile to the words. The guilt over lying to these people burned hotter. That simple human fragility told her she’d never again be the same agent.
“Thanks,” she muttered, busying herself with disposing the toweling. Exactly how much were Seb’s friends going to hate her when they learned the truth? Especially since her actions had landed him in a serious medical situation.
She left the ladies’ room before Bren or Mia could offer any other kind words that would rub her conscience even rawer.
Out in the waiting room, Commander Yang, already deep into a conversation with Alpha, had arrived with a couple of military police officers. He was talking in a low voice. “…office was definitely robbed. But there was nothing of any real value in there. A few cred cards, a couple bottles of top shelf liquor, and a datapad.”
“It just doesn’t make any damned sense. This is a military vessel, not a civ ship or station. Why would someone rob Harley?” Alpha asked.
She kept her gaze down and hung back. The way her emotions were so close to the surface, she couldn’t be sure her poker face would hold up. Because this couldn’t have been what it looked like. On a battleship like the Valiant Knox, it made no sense that anyone would even think about robbing a bar, let alone go through with it.
It seemed pretty damned obvious this was another attempt on Seb’s life, just like when he’d been assaulted outside Bren’s apartment. The attacker had simply used the guise of a robbery to cover up the real motive of CI cleaning house on her supposed execution.
Damn it. What the hell was she going to do? She needed to find out who had ordered her burned and why, but Seb was quite obviously in danger. He needed twenty-four-hour protection, because CI were nothing if not thorough and resourceful. If they wanted him dead, the attempts would only get more intense, until the desired outcome was met.
It wouldn’t be enough to simply tip off Commander Yang or Lieutenant Brenner that Seb was in danger. They’d assign him an MP escort, who’d be about as effective as a cockroach trying to stop a freighter from landing.
If she wanted to keep him alive, she needed to keep him in her sights, which was going to make her investigations that much harder. She couldn’t exactly take him skulking around the bowels of the ship or into CI’s onboard annex. Even if he wasn’t on their hit list, the guy didn’t do subtle and stood out wherever he went.
She’d have to find a way to do both—she’d dragged him into this mess, it was her responsibility to make sure he got out alive.
After a lengthy conversation, and statements taken from all of them, Commander Yang dismissed the MPs and joined the rest of them in waiting for news on Seb. It said something about his standing that the commander of the entire battleship was personally concerned about his welfare.
It felt like half the night had dragged by when Doctor Dalton finally appeared still wearing surgical scrubs, but a quick check revealed it had only been a few short hours.
Everyone jumped to their feet as Sacha stepped into the room, and though Jenna wanted to rush forward and demand answers, once again, she stayed back. She was the outsider here. These people had more of a right to news on Seb’s welfare than she ever would.
“He’s stable,” Sacha announced, a murmuring of relief rippling through the room. “And we saved his arm. We completely repaired the damage, but he lost a lot of blood, and his shoulder will be sore for a while. I’m recommending at least six weeks’ medical leave.”
Alpha grinned, dropping an arm over Mia’s shoulder. “He won’t be happy to hear that. He’ll be bored and begging for flight time within two hours.”
“I’ll make sure he doesn’t complain,” Bren put in. “Because it could have been way worse than just two weeks’ leave.”
“The pain in his shoulder should remind him of that for a while to come,” Sacha replied. “He’s in recovery, but I can let one person in to visit him.”
Silence met the doctor’s words. Didn’t anyone want to see him? God, she would do anything to get in that room and check for herself that he was really okay. She looked up, more than a little shocked to see everyone looking at her.
“You should go, Jenna.” Bren motioned her over.
“Oh. No. I’m sure he’d rather see—” Well, anyone else, really. She wasn’t a friend or loved one, she was just the woman who’d put his life in mortal danger. He needed people by his side who were his true friends. “You should go, Bren. Or Alpha. He won’t want to see me.”
Bren came over and gently took her arm. “Trust me, Seb will feel much better if he opens his eyes to see you first. As if he really wants to wake up to his CO or the ex-CAFF.”
Her selfish desire to see him won out against what was probably best for Seb, especially once she added in the even more selfish need to keep up her cover and that she’d just decided the two of them were about to become joined at the hip until she worked out who the hell was trying to kill him.
“Only if you’re sure?” The reluctance and uncertainty in her voice was ridiculous. She’d always prided herself on making decisions and following through on them without hesitation. But Seb had her second-guessing every decision she’d made since agreeing to let him help her. Things were so much harder with his life on the line, too. She couldn’t write him off as collateral like she had with others in the past, and he definitely didn’t deserve that.
There was a short chorus of agreement, and then Jenna found herself being propelled forward to Sacha’s side. The doctor sent her an encouraging smile.
“Jenna? It’s nice to meet you.” Sacha held out a hand and she shook it briefly as they walked along. “Sorry we couldn’t meet under better circumstances. I hear you’re visiting Seb before taking up a ground posting?”
Yep, the gossip vine was well and truly alive on the Knox. “Yeah, I’ve only got a few days here. Is Seb really okay?”
“He’s strong and stubborn. He came through the surgery without a hitch, and I expect he’ll have an easy recovery, as long as he doesn’t push himself too much.”
Though Sacha had already said as much in the waiting room, hearing it again struck deep within her, releasing the tightly wound tension sitting heavy in her stomach.
Seb was the only patient in what was obviously the surgical recovery room. A few chords were hooked up to his body, feeding vital signs into the screen at the head of the bed.
“I’ll grab you a chair.” Sacha disappeared before she could agree or not, leaving her to approach the side of the gurney alone.
She stopped near his feet, not used to the acidic worry and anxiousness devouring her insides. It had been a long time since she’d cared about anyone else and found herself in this position. Found herself vulnerable because of her feelings.
“Here.” Sacha returned, pushing a kind of wheeled office chair. “Stay as long as you want. We’ll be moving him to his own room once the anesthetic has worn off.”
Sacha shot her a quick smile and disappeared. For a few moments Jenna stayed where she stood, simply watching as Seb’s chest rose and fell. She wasn’t used to emotions like this. Nothing good could come of it. A clash of desires warred within her—the need to get closer against the need to get away. The need to protect him against the need to go out, find who’d done this, and pay them back in kind. The need to act and comport herself as she’d been trained, against the need to embrace what she wanted in the depths of her soul—to remember who she was and what she’d wanted out of life before sinking into the dark depths of CI.
Exhaustion won, and she sat, because she was too tired to stand and be at odds with herself any longer. Though she tried not to notice the clock, the minutes marched away while she watched Seb sleep, the usual distant noises of people working in a hospital a constant background consonance.
Seb at last shifted, startling her out of an open-eyed combat nap. He blinked, then lolled his head to the side and focused bleary eyes on her.
“Jenna?” His voice was scratchy, like he was on the losing end of a sore throat.
“Let me get Doctor Dalton.” She pressed the call button and Sacha arrived in record time.
“Good timing, Seb. I was just getting ready to move you to a room. How do you feel?”
“Like I ejected from my jet and landed without a parachute. What the hell happened?”
“Do you remember getting shot?” Sacha asked.
He frowned and rubbed a hand over his eyes. “At Harley’s, right? Last thing I remember is sitting on the bench outside.”
“You lost a lot of blood, and there was extensive damage to your shoulder. I managed to save ninety-five percent function of your arm. I’ll still be able to medically clear you as a fighter pilot. You just might experience occasional pain if you overwork the joint, but it shouldn’t impact your ability to do your job.”
Seb dropped his head back against the bed, closing his eyes for a long moment. “Thank God.”
His simple, profound relief at still being able to do his job made the guilt inside her smolder. The moment he’d taken the assignment from Stanton, his life had been in danger. And now she was the only thing standing in between him and death.
A sub-doctor and a nurse appeared, as they prepared to move Seb.
“Hey, man, how’s your shoulder feeling?” The sub-doctor clasped Seb on his good arm.
“Like a Doberman’s chew toy,” he replied with a grimace.
The sub-doctor gave a short laugh as they started wheeling the gurney. “Considering how much you hate dogs, it must be bad. Guess this means you won’t be at poker tomorrow night. What am I supposed to do for beer money this week?”
“It’s probably about time someone staged an intervention on your love of beer, Ace.” Seb sounded tired, even though the words were light.
“Sure, we’ll hold an intervention on your dismal poker playing while we’re at it.”
She followed along in wake of the gurney, again realizing how much of an outsider she was, and how she was the last person who should have been in the middle of this personal situation. But her feet took her along, and before she knew it, the doctors had settled him in his room and left them alone. She took a second to slip her comm out of her pocket and scan for bugs or listening devices, but came up empty. She didn’t have any reason to suspect there would be one in the room, but some habits died hard.
“Getting shot sucks big time.” He shifted in the bed, obviously trying to get comfortable. “Now I can understand why Alpha was in such a bitchy mood when it happened to him.”
Yeah, she could agree with that. She’d been shot twice, but never anywhere near as serious as what Seb had just faced.
“You should try to get some rest.” She didn’t actually know whether he needed rest or not, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
“Would you get over here, so I can at least see you without needing binoculars?”
She grabbed in a small, sharp breath before walking forward with measured steps to stand next to him.
“What’s going on with you?” His gaze roamed her face.
“You almost died.” The words came out uneven, giving more away than she wanted.
“Wouldn’t be the first time. And won’t be the last. We are in the middle of a war. Why does that bother you?”
“Because—” She looked away from him, not able to deal with the concern and understanding in his dark eyes.
“This isn’t your fault.” His hand found hers, and she twined her fingers into his, hanging on tighter than she had any right to. “Is that what you’re thinking, that this is somehow your fault?”
“I never imagined things would turn out this way.” Not just with Seb’s life, but also including how much she’d come to care for him in such a short amount of time.
Though she’d initially only intended to find out who was behind her own execution order, now it was more important to make sure Seb was alive when this was all over.
She’d signed her own life over to CI a long time ago, but she refused to go down quietly, and she sure as hell would make sure Seb didn’t go down with her.