Night Game (GhostWalkers, #3)(78)

Gator yanked open the door and stared at Flame. She was covered in blood and mud. Her shirt was torn open, her breasts exposed. She was so pale he thought she might have already bled out. “God, baby,” he whispered.

She turned her head, the movement obviously painful. “I’m okay. You ought to see the other guy.”

“I did.” He reached in and drew her out to him, careful of her broken arm. It was only when he was settling her against him that he realized the man in the backseat was James Parsons and his face was split open above his eye. Flame still clutched the bloodied crystal tumbler in her hand. “You son of a bitch. What did you do?”

‘Nothing.” James put his hands up. “I swear. She was hysterical. Her clothes were ripped, she was bleeding. We it her in the car and were taking her to the nearest hospital. I tried to get her something to drink, but she went crazy on me.”

“The thing is, James,” Gator said, “I know where you live.” He kicked the door closed and carried Flame to the helicopter.

Kadan stayed at his back, rifle trained on the driver of the car. The other GhostWalkers were motionless until Gator was safely in the helicopter and then they folowed, one by one, rifles still trained on the black town car’s occupants.

Gator covered Flame with a blanket, his throat tight, his heart squeezed hard in his chest. “I’m really pissed at you cher. You should have stayed where I put you.”

Her hand twisted weakly in his shirt. “Whitney will come after me in the hospital, Raoul. I won’t be able to protect myself. Swear to me you won’t let him take me. Swear it.”

He looked down at her face. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow. Beads of sweat formed on her face under the mud. There was still strength in the hand gripping his shirt. Gator leaned close, pressed his lips against her ear. “You have my word, Flame. I swear it.”

Her fist relaxed slowly and she turned her head into his chest, giving up the fight against unconsciousness.

*

Flame smelled the stench of the hospital first. She could hear the murmur of the nurses talking. Someone leaned over her and adjusted the IV in her arm. Fear choked her and she tried to struggle awake. She heard groaning and again there was a soft murmur, this time a man’s voice soothing her. She wanted to open her eyes, but the command between her brain and her eyes didn’t seem to be working.

“Flame? Can you hear me, cher? They operated on your arm, set it, and are pumping you full of antibiotics. Everything looks good.” That was definitely Raoul’s drawling voice. “You’re in the recovery room.” He leaned closer. “You were never alone. We were in the operating room with you.”

“She won’t remember anything you say,” the nurse advised, “but it’s good to talk to her. It will help bring her out from under the anesthesia.”

Flame felt his hands on her and a part of her relaxed. Raoul was there with her, just as he promised. “You sure she won’t remember?” he asked.

The nurse must have shaken her head because Raoul leaned closer to her and pressed a kiss against her ear. “Can you hear me?”

Flame nodded her head.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Flame stayed very still. She almost held her breath as his soft drawling voice went straight to her heart. It wasn’t commanding, or cajoling, it was a voice filled with fear and wonder.

“You sure she won’t remember anything I say?” Gator raised his voice again.

“They never do.”

She waited, her heart beating hard in anticipation. She felt the warmth of his breath against her ear. His lips touched her. “You scared the hell out of me, cher. If you ever do something like this again, I’m goin’ to turn you over my knee and beat your pretty little ass until you can’t sit down and you beg me for mercy.”

Laughter bubbled up out of nowhere. She was smiling as she succumbed to the drugs in her body.

The second time she woke she knew she was in a hospital room. There was that same choking fear, amounting almost to terror. She smelled Whitney, his drugs and his experiments. They were all around her. She wanted out. She needed to be out.

“Raoul?” She whispered his name. Her guardian angel. He’d slipped past her guard somehow and she’d let him in. When had she gone from thinking him her enemy to believing in him so strongly?

“It’s all right, you’re safe.” That was definitely Raoul. She tried to pry her eyes open. She frowned. Nothing made sense. She could swear the male nurse was Wyatt. She seemed to be drifting so maybe she was caught in a dream.

The nurse leaned over her talking overloud. “Did you say Wyatt? Cuz you can’t be whispering my name with my brother in the room.”

There was no doubt in her mind that the voice was Wyatt’s. She focused on him. “What are you doing dressed like a nurse?” Maybe she really was dreaming. He was in green scrubs.

He winked at her, reminding her all too much of Raoul. His dark curls fell into the middle of his forehead. “I’m undercover.”

“Well you look ridiculous.”

“I look fetchin’. I’ve got Gator all hot and bothered worrying you’re goin’ wake up and fall in love with me.”

“You look ridiculous,” she repeated.

“All my patients think I’m cute,” he argued.