Page 77 of Rescuing Rebecca
“Ryder called in his last known coordinates to the JTF2. They found him, fished him out, and brought him back.” Jamie shook his head, his disbelief evident in his expression. “Fucking miracle if you ask me.”
Headache coming on fast, Jay closed his eyes and an image of Grant’s reckless leap from the Black Hawk burned its way through his mind. His fists clenched, and he felt the skin over his knuckles stretching with his anger, but underneath the fury, something else stirred—something raw and unspoken. Gratitude. Relief. Fear for what could have been.
Did he want to beat Grant into the ground for putting himself in danger? Yes. Against logic, protocol, and self-preservation, the asshole had sacrificed himself to save Jay. At the same time, would he still be here, worrying about a second chance at loving Rebecca the right way if Grant hadn’t put everyone else on board the helicopter first?
Short answer—no.
Jesus Christ! He owed the man his life. His future. His potential happiness with the woman he loved. There were no words he could say or thanks he could give that would ever come close enough to compensating for a gift of such magnitude.
“Where is he?” His emotions choking him, the question ripped from his throat, more desperate than he’d intended. If Grant wasn’t already close to dead, he’d better be bracing himself—because Jay wasn’t sure if he’d hug him or punch him square in the face when he found him.
“Easy.” With one hand on Jay’s chest, Jamie pushed his upper body back down on the bed with minimal effort. “He’s next door in the surgery with Madelyn.”
“Madelyn?” Jay repeated, fighting the throbbing spike of pain in his shoulder brought on by his failed attempt to escape.
“Ryder,” Jamie clarified. “She took a high-caliber bullet to the chest during takeoff from the compound. She needed surgery, and I couldn’t do it in the field.”
Jesus! Too much. All of it hitting him at once, the rescue, the sacrifices, shooting Dmitriev, it was too much, and unable to process any more bad news, Jay fell into a silent stupor.
“How is she now?” Taking up where he’d left off, Becca edged her stool closer to the bed, and his relief at having her close enough to see and hear was immeasurable.
Jamie executed a quick glance her way before responding, “The bullet nicked a lung, causing it to collapse, but the surgery went well, and she’s holding her own.”
“Do you expect her to make a full recovery?” she asked, her voice imbued with concern despite her nonchalant delivery.
“Yeah, she’s a tough cookie. Didn’t even tell us she’d been shot until we were halfway back to the mainland.”
“She saved Jay’s life…I mean, she’s the one who found him. And then Grant…” She paused to swallow, and Jay knew the weight of the emotions she fought to suppress because he struggled with them too. “They’re not the only ones. I saw you. On the helicopter, before I passed out. You saved him as much as they did.”
Jamie nodded. “It was definitely a team effort.”
The exam continued in the quiet that followed, Jamie going through whatever mental checklist he had for hypothermia patients, and Jay’s eyes grew heavier and heavier until they closed.
As much as he wanted to stay with Becca, he couldn’t fight the exhaustion, and with a soothing darkness closing in around him, he could swear he felt her take his hand right before he heard her whisper, “Thank you.”
Despite Becca’s efforts to lock down her emotions, they battered against her walls, demanding to be set free. She felt them like a restless tide, and not just her own, but Jamie and Jay’s too—sharp fragments of raw fear and hard anger—pressing in waves of simmering frustration against her mind.
She couldn’t hold them all back, that much she knew.
Instead, she searched for something steady, something she could anchor to, something that wouldn’t overwhelm or rip her to shreds. Gratitude. It glowed golden and warm amidst the chaos. A heartfelt appreciation for the selfless acts of others. For the saving of one life and the rescue of another. For the quiet strength of those who kept hope alive despite the crushing weight of it all.
Her fingers entwined with Jay’s while he slept, she let the comforting feeling thread through her, and roles reversed, she brushed her thumb over the back of his hand, the soothing sensation offering a calming effect amidst the storm still brewing beneath the surface.
She needed time and distance to get clarity and reinforce her defenses. Harden her resolve. Patch the cracks in her outer shell. Until then, gratitude would be her refuge, the light she chose to carry when the darkness threatened to consume her.
“How long have you and Jay been friends?” she asked Jamie to fill the silence, not because it was uncomfortable, but because she wanted to see how open and honest he would be.
“Ever since we started working together, so a little over two and a half years.” Patient exam complete, he stripped off his gloves and tossed them into a nearby garbage can. “Feels like longer.”
“You bicker like brothers.”
He snorted and leaned his hip against the bed, crossing one ankle over the other in a casual pose. “Yep. Wait until you see Cody and Grant go at it. They argue like an old married couple. It’s hilarious.”
“So, he’ll be okay then?” A surge of emotion had her switching her focus from Jamie to Jay.
“Grant?” he asked, and she nodded. “His head’s a little caved in, but once the swelling around his eye goes down, and the cuts and scrapes start to heal, he’ll be back to his old self. How about you, though? How’re you feeling?”
“Me?” Surprised by the question, she lifted her gaze and lied to his face. “I’m fine.”
