Page 67 of Protecting his Secrets

“How is he?”

She sighed. “He has a chest wound, but we managed to stabilise him. We’re taking him to hospital now. Do you want to ride with us?”

Nick nodded and watched them lift Rye into the ambulance. He turned to Malachi. “I need to—”

Malachi nodded. “Go. I’ll be there soon.”

Nick refocused on Rye again, climbing in when the paramedic said he could. He settled on the seat and reached for Rye’s hand, hesitating until the paramedic nodded at him. He slipped his hand under the sheet and carefully held his brother’s hand, needing that connection. He wasn’t allowed to die. He couldn’t. All of this was Nick’s fault, and he refused to risk his family any longer. The moment Rye was well, Nick was handing in his resignation. He couldn’t put them through this again.

As soon as they arrived at the hospital, Rye was wheeled away, and a nurse led him to a comfortable chair in a small room away from the main waiting area. He dropped his head into his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. Calling his parents was essential, but he just needed a minute. Tears dripped down his nose, and his entire body shook with the force of his sobs, but eventually, he eased.

A tissue appeared in front of him, and he jerked back, eyes widening until he saw Malachi.

“Sorry,” Malachi whispered. “I wasn’t sure if you’d heard me come in.”

More tears filled Nick’s eyes, and he dropped to the floor, wrapping his arms around Malachi’s waist, his cheeks pressed against his chest.

“It’s okay, Nick. He’ll be okay. He’ll be okay.”

The repeated mantra helped him to calm down again, and Malachi helped him to sit back on the seat. When he’d got hold of himself, he pulled out his phone. “I need to call Mum and Dad.”

“They already know,” Malachi said. “I called them before I came in. They should be here soon.”

Nick’s heart skipped a beat at the love shining from Malachi’s eyes, and he pressed his lips to his. “I love you.”

Malachi smiled. “I love you.”

The door opened, and his parents came in, Eliza following. “How is he?” his mother asked, grabbing hold of Nick when he rose.

“He has a chest wound, but he’s alive. I’ve not heard anything else since we arrived.” His eyes filled again, and he was so sick of crying. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. You don’t have control over other people’s actions.”

“But it might be my fault—”

“Pssh,” she said, waving his words away. “Doesn’t matter what job you have. It doesn’t give people the right to go around shooting others just because they feel like it. You know we’d never blame you because of your job.”

“Well, I’m not going to have it for much longer, so you don’t need to worry.”

His father pinned him with his gaze. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll be a bodyguard until you’re too old to move.”

Nick shook his head. “I’m done. I can’t let this happen again.”

His father stepped closer, grabbing his nape and holding him still. “You’re bloody good at what you do, Nick. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

“What? So I let them take my family instead?” His voice rose with each word.

“If that happens, it happens. But you fight every day for the right side of the coin. Quitting your job won’t change how these people act, but having you keeping people safe means I can sleep at night.”

Nick stared at him. Why was he not mad at him for causing Rye’s injuries? Why was he not ranting and raving about Nick not taking care of his family before anything else? Other families probably would have.

He opened his mouth to argue when a doctor entered the room. “Mr and Mrs Tennant?” His parents nodded and steppedcloser. “Rye is doing well after the surgery. The bullet went straight through him, but it did a little damage to his chest. We repaired everything with no problems, but now we need to let his body do the healing. He’s in intensive care while we observe to make sure nothing unexpected happens, but I have no doubt he’ll make a full recovery.”

Nick sank onto a chair, and Malachi wrapped his arms around him. He closed his eyes and just breathed. His mind, full of what-ifs and what-nows, kept churning through everything, but he let it all bypass his conscious thoughts. He needed a mental health break right then. He heard nothing more, letting the conversation sink into the background. His mind drifted, remembering times from when Rye had been born, through his childhood, and the way he clung to Nick whenever he left to go somewhere. He couldn’t lose his mini-me.

The thought made him chuckle, and Malachi asked, “Are you okay?”

Nick nodded, finally back in the room. “The son of a gun is too strong to be taken out by a bullet. He has too much to live for.” He stood. “I’m sorry, but I need to go,” he told his parents, the doctor having disappeared at some point. “I’m going to find who did this.”

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