Page 86 of I'll Be There
And that made Liza hurt, just a little, for Justin, because his face twitched when he said it.
“I sent her away because I was afraid Kayle would come after her, hurt her for information. I needed to drop off the grid, but I didn’t want her paying for it.”
“She’s in a hospital in Canada.”
“Actually, she’s not. She’s safe, in a hospital here in the States.”
Conner’s mouth fell to a grim line. “I’m going to need more than that.”
Justin glanced at the small crowd in the hallway. “Not right now.”
A tiny muscle darted in Conner’s neck.
“Okay, let’s say that I stumbled into a cover-up, with Blankenship at the helm.”
“We know about Vanguard, the defense contracts, and the funding for SOF.”
Justin raised an eyebrow.
“Youtold Blue to call me if she needed help.”
A smile lifted Justin’s mouth. “You were always the smart one.”
“Not smart enough to find you.”
“I made it tricky. On purpose.” Justin’s smile fell. “But I’ve been watching you, little brother.” He glanced at Liza, then Pete and Jed. “And your friends. I was wrong, I think.”
Conner raised his chin, drew in a breath, and Liza just about walked over to him, put her arms around him.
“You’re not a selfish jerk.”
Conner looked away. “That’s not exactly what you said.”
“I know what I said. And what I’m saying now. You care more about others than you do yourself.”
The words resonated, curled inside Liza. See, this was why loving Conner hurt so much. So easy to fall for a man who would give his very breath for another person.
And so agonizingly painful to watch him do it.
“Which, I suppose, is why you have a team of friends willing to risk their lives to save yours.”
Liza took a breath. He did, didn’t he? She glanced at Pete, Jed, and even Darek, as they shifted uncomfortably, looked at the ground, glanced at each other.
Never mind the two in the ER who’d taken bullets for him.
She caught his eye then, and as if he could read her mind, his expression turned so brutal, so wretched it made her want to weep. He closed his eyes and looked away.
Oh, Conner.
Silence, long enough for the ER nurse to poke her head out. “Who is Conner?”
Conner raised his hand and she gestured him in.
He swallowed, a haunted hollowness washing over him. As he walked by, he reached out and took Liza’s hand. And what could she do? She followed him in.
Please, let Micah be alive.
Micah lay on a table, his clothing cut off, wearing a blanket, blood soaking the floor beneath him. A transfusion hung over his head, along with an IV bag, and a third, smaller bag, probably morphine. One hand gripped the rail of the bed.
