Page 139 of Luck of the Draw

“Are you crazy?” Constance yelped. “Did you hear what he just said? They’re going to—”

The speakers of the laptop buzzed and reverberated with the sound of a violent firefight breaking out. Skye’s stomach plummeted so fast and so hard that her head went light.

Fuck.

Fuck.

God, please…no.

“Oh my lord!” Constance hollered. “Oh my lord! They’re shooting! Did they get him out yet? Did they get to him yet? Where are your people, sir?”

The young agent’s eyes were wide, but he didn’t even attempt to answer. Over the speakers, shouting inter-spliced gunfire for what seemed like an eternity until it eventually fizzled out. There was a shuffle of movement, and an unidentifiable voice shouting something, and then one last, single shot.

The speakers were silent.

“Oh God,” Skye whispered. “Brennan, where are you?”

“Oh my lord.” Constance sobbed. “Why is it quiet? Why is it quiet? What is happening?”

Orson grabbed the young agent’s collar. “Take us over there!”

Kaderli opened the front door and waved them toward him. “Let’s go, folks.”

They piled into an unmarked SUV, and Skye was numb. Constance wept into Orson’s chest, and he held her close, shushing her softly. It took seven whole minutes to reach the small restaurant. Vehicles were parked haphazardly all over the lot. Agents were standing in various places off to the side, speaking with members of the restaurant’s staff.

As soon as the SUV lurched to a halt, Orson climbed out and darted off, leaving Constance shaking like a leaf in the backseat. Skye rubbed Constance’s back. Both women were deathly silent. What the fuck was there to say at a time like this?

Two ambulances pulled up along with several NOPD cars. If they had called paramedics, surely that meant there were survivors. There had to be survivors. Brennan had a vest on. Surely it had done its job. It had to have done its job. Its entire purpose for existing was to do its job, andsurelyit had done its goddamn job.

The paramedics rushed inside. Orson was barking at Kaderli while he pointed at the restaurant. Kaderli lifted his palms in an obvious attempt to calm him. Orson abruptly bent over at the waist, hands braced on his knees, and Kaderli placed his hand on Orson’s back.

“I’m going out there,” Skye announced, more to herself than Constance, and pushed the door open.

Both women climbed out of the SUV, and Constance rushed straight to Orson.

“He got hit.” The words came from Orson’s voice, but they sounded like a crackle amidst a hum of static and white noise in Skye’s ears. “He was awarded expert level marksmanship in the Marine Corps, and you sent him in there unarmed and with nothing but a goddamned vest!”

Skye wandered away from them toward the entrance. She stopped in the middle of the parking lot about twenty-five yards away from the path where agents and police officers and paramedics were rushing in and out. A lifetime seemed to pass before the paramedics rolled out a gurney carrying the unmistakable form of Brennan.

Skye broke into a run. She wedged herself as close to the gurney as she could get and saw his face. He was pallid, and his expression was contorted with pain. His suit jacket, shirt, and the vest had been removed and the paramedics were holding blood-soaked gauze to his shoulder. Three other smaller pieces of blood-soaked gauze were placed in various spots on his torso, and his skin was swollen and inflamed under the edges of the cotton.

But…he was breathing. His muscles tensed and released, and he appeared to be in a significant amount of pain, but he wasalive.

“Brennan?”

He turned his eyes up to her, and his brows drew together. “Ah God…Skye.” He wheezed and groaned. “Fuck…am I glad to see you, baby girl.”

“Holy shit, Brennan…you gotshot.”

“I know, and it…” He panted, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them back open. “…fucking hurts like the…fucking dickens.”

He winced as he reached for her with his uninjured arm. One of the paramedics moved sideways, and she stood next to his head, holding his hand against her cheek.

“I can’t even believe you’re alive right now.”

“I can.” He attempted to smirk, but only winced again and panted between his words. “They…couldn’t aim…for shit.”

Skye shook her head in disbelief. Relief flooded her with such force that she grew lightheaded and lowered her forehead to rest on his. “I thought you were going to die. I literally just told you I love you, and you were going to die right after that,” she murmured, bordering on nonsensical as adrenaline fled her body. The pads of her fingers lightly traced the hollow of his stubbly cheeks. “But you didn’t. You’re here.”

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