Fighting Redemption(87)

“You really have no idea what he needs, lady,” Monty growled from somewhere on his right.

“That’s Doctor Lady to you,” came the firm voice again, albeit a bit more snippy this time.

Ryan blinked rapidly and turned his head to focus on Monty. Why did he feel so damn sluggish and sore? “What the hell happened out there, Monty?”

Monty’s brows drew together. “You don’t remember?”

Ryan’s head fell back against the pillow and he closed his eyes. “The rope … They were shooting at me …”

“They got you, Kendall. Once in the shoulder, arm, and the leg. I came down the rope. Managed to grab you just before you fell. They winched us both up and we you got you the f*ck out of there.”

“How long have I been out?”


“Twelve hours from the start of surgery ‘til now. Kendall … Kyle rang through. He’s—”

His eyes flew open. “Nathan?”

Monty shook his head, the movement short and impatient. “Another team grabbed him and radioed it in. Shot like you but he’s fine. Look, Kendall, something’s happened to Fin.”

“To Fin?” Ryan’s hands started to shake and he fisted them. “Monty?”

Monty stepped closer to the bed, rubbing his jaw. “Fin’s at the hospital. The doctors are saying she’s got something called eclampsia. They’re doing an emergency caesarean right now. She’s lost a lot of blood. It’s … Ryan …” Monty held his eyes. “She’s not doing so good. It sounds like her organs might be starting to shut down.”

Ryan shook his head. “No.” What Monty was telling him couldn’t possibly be real. Not his Fin. No. Just … no.

“Kendall. We have to—”

Leaning up on what he recognised as a hospital bed inside Bagram Airbase with no idea how he got there, Ryan fisted Monty’s shirt in his hands. “No! Please,” he cried weakly, shaking his head over and over, swallowing desperately against an enormous wave of fear. “No.”

Monty’s lips pressed together, visibly fighting back tears. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck sorry!” he roared. He shoved Monty back hard enough for him to stumble and swung his legs over the bed. Pain screamed through his body like a freight train. “I have to get home,” he panted, sweat popping along his brow. “Now. I need to get out of here.” He met Monty’s eyes. “Help me,” he begged hoarsely. “Please.”

Monty nodded. “Whatever you need me to do.”

The doctor came racing over with a cart, her jaw set determinedly. “You’re not going anywhere. You need time to heal and rest.”

Ignoring the doctor, Monty helped Ryan to his feet, and he cried out as his stitches started tearing. Red patches were blooming on the bandages winding around his shoulder, left bicep, and leg.

The doctor pushed her way through, and a deep, burning rage gave him the strength to shove her cart out of the way. It careened wildly across the floor, hitting the wall opposite with a loud clatter before tipping over.

“You’re not listening!” he yelled, breathing heavily. “I have to get out of here!”

“You’re busting all your stitches!” she shouted back.

“I. Don’t. Care,” he growled, his clenched fists trembling where they rested by his sides. Ryan looked to Monty. “Monty?”

“Already arranged your leave. Got your bags packed. Flight’s waiting for you.”

Swaying, Ryan closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Thank you,” he whispered.





After being rushed through Australian Customs, Ryan left the airport. The automatic doors opened at his approach, and he stepped out. The sky was dark, the air cool, and the stars blinked vibrantly. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, Ryan tilted his head, breathing deep.

Home.

Yet it had never felt less welcoming.

Searching for Kyle’s car, he found it idling by the kerb, Kyle at the wheel. Seeing Ryan, he went to step out of the car but Ryan waved him off. The young soldier following behind Ryan stowed his bag in the boot, and after thanking him with a brief salute, Ryan opened the passenger door and slid inside.

A sharp pain stabbed his shoulder as he reached for the seatbelt and he hissed. “Shit.” Giving up, he rested his head against the seat, cold sweat popping out on his brow. “How is she?”

Checking his mirrors, Kyle accelerated into the street. “Kendall …”

God. Ryan could hear a thousand emotions in that one, solitary word. He closed his eyes and braced himself for the worst. “Tell me.”

“Fin went into cardiac arrest.” Kyle’s voice cracked. “She’s slipped into a coma.”

“Fuck,” Ryan moaned, swallowing the tears that burned his throat. “I can’t lose her, Kyle. I can’t.” Opening his eyes, he stared out into the night. Buildings, cars, trees—they were all a blur as Kyle raced them towards the hospital. “What happened?”

“I spoke to Monty. He told me Fin was listed as your next of kin. You were shot, Kendall. You know with those sorts of injuries they notify next of kin personally, especially since the media got involved. He thought—we both thought—it would be a good idea if I went too.”