“Oh my God, Nash.” I fall to my knees beside him and feel his neck for a pulse. A sob slips out when I find one. It’s slow and thready, but it’s there. I press a tear stained kiss on his lips. “Hang on Nash. I need you.” I wrench the cellphone Karyn gave me for an emergency from my pocket and call her.

“Zoe, what’s going on?”

“Nash is hurt. We need an ambulance now,” I shout in a panicked tone.

“Calm down. What happened?”

“He’s been shot twice, and stabbed.”

“Are there men in the house now?”

“No, he took them out, except for one who escaped.”

“What about the other agents?” Karyn’s tone is sharp.

“I’m not sure. They never responded when Nash tried to contact them.” Oh God I’m a horrible person. I completely forgot about the two other agents. How did I forget them?

“Put pressure on his wounds to slow the bleeding and stay on this line with me. I’m going to call for help from another phone.” Karyn’s voice pulls me back to the moment and the important task at hand.

“Okay.” Glancing around the room, I look for something to stop the blood flow, but there’s nothing there. Setting the phone to speaker, I place it on the floor. Tearing off my sweatshirt, I spread the material over his torso, pressing down on the wound in his chest and the one in his stomach.

Leaning forward, I apply direct pressure and send up a silent plea to God to please help Nash. Blood quickly saturates through the sweatshirt staining the gray material a dark red and coating my hands. He’s losing blood fast. My stomach lurches, bile rising up my throat, but I focus on my breathing and force it back down.

“You’re doing great, Zoe,” Karyn encourages from the speaker as if she’s here, watching.

Peering at the gunshot in his leg I notice it’s not bleeding much and what little there is, his jeans have absorbed. I’m thankful for this as I only have two hands to work with and his other injuries are taking the brunt of my full body weight as I lean into them. My arms are shaking and I’m perspiring from the exertion.

“Hang in there. Help will arrive soon,” Karyn promises.

Minutes later agents rush inside the house calling out to let me know who they are. They’re followed closely by an ambulance and I fall back once the paramedics begin working on him. Rubbing my bloodied hands on my leggings, I lean back against the wall. Without the solid structure behind me, I’m sure I would sink to the floor. My legs are weak and I’m shaking from head to toe.

I can’t lose Nash.

He’s come to mean too much to me. I won’t be able to make it through another loss, and his death would be on my conscience. He got injured protecting me. How would I survive that guilt?

I follow behind the paramedics as they wheel him out on a stretcher and stand by helplessly as they load him into the ambulance. I want to climb inside with him, but I know it would never be allowed. I’m still under protective custody. Judging from what happened tonight, Popov doesn’t want me testifying and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to stop that threat. But right now, none of that matters. What little energy remains is focused on Nash.

He has to be okay. He just has to. Any other option is too cruel to think about.

The EMT closes one of the rear doors and places his hand on the other.

“Wait,” I shout, hurrying forward. “Nash keep fighting. You’re gonna be okay,” I holler into the ambulance, before the EMT holds his arm out to block me.

“Miss, you need to step back so we can get him to the hospital.”

I nod, backing up on numb legs until I’m a safe distance away. My eyes remain on the ambulance until it’s out of sight and still I remain standing in place until the sirens can no longer be heard.

God, please let Nash be okay. Please. Please. Please.

“Zoe, honey.” Karyn places her hand on my arm and spins me around, before engulfing my small frame in a tight hug. “Thank God you’re okay.” Her hand caresses over the top of my hair as I sob in her arms. “It’s over now. You’re going to be fine.”

I sniffle and draw back, wiping the slew of tears from my cheeks.

“Can we get you checked out for injuries, please?”

I shake my head. “I don’t need to be looked at. I’m not concerned with my welfare. I’m only worried about Nash. He got shot twice and stabbed protecting me. What if he doesn’t survive?” My bottom lip quivers and I whisper, “It will be all my fault.”

“Don’t you even start thinking those crazy thoughts.” Her hands grip my upper arms. “Nash is an FBI agent and he knows the risks and dangers this job entails. Every day he goes to work prepared to lay his life on the line. That has nothing to do with you and don’t you assign blame to yourself.” She tightens her hold briefly and then slides her hands up to cup my cheeks, forcing me to meet her brown eyes. “You hear me?”

I press my lips together, rolling them inward to stop the quivering and inhale deeply through my nose. “Yeah, I hear you.”

Within hours I was tucked away at a new safehouse with Karyn and four other agents. Security was amped in preparation for the upcoming trial. I wouldn’t do them much good if I was dead. I tried to remain calm over the days that followed, but Nash was never far from my thoughts. Karyn insisted he would be okay, but she never went into detail about his recovery. I’ve voiced so many questions I never get answers for and I doubt I ever will. All I can do is blindly trust that the FBI is doing what needs to be done and pray I make it out of this alive.