Page 69 of Heated Rivals
Instantly, Teague was by his side. He probed beneath the shirt, his face a mask of concentration. “I’m not a medic, but I think it’s a through-and-through.”
Which was good on one hand, because it meant the bullet wasn’t going to shift and do more damage, but it also didn’t take into account the damagealreadydone. He put a bit more weight onto Cillian’s shoulder. “Call your people in. We need to get him to the hospital.”
“My sister?”
“Safe. She’s back that way.” He jerked his chin in the direction of the van. “The rest of Romanov’s men?”
“These were the last of them.” He put the phone to his ear. “Callie? Round up the boys. Cillian’s been shot. We’ll meet you at the entrance of the docks.” He hung up.
When he moved to take Cillian, James shook his head. “I got him. You guys were here to help me out. My responsibility.”
Teague gave a jerky nod and let James carefully scoop his brother up. It was hard to tell how bad the bleeding was in the darkness, or if it’d slowed at all, but the faster they got moving the better. “Watch my back.”
“I will.”
James turned and started for the van, willing the man in his arms to live, willing Carrigan to be safe when they got back, willing them to get through this night without yet another loss in the O’Malley family.
They found Carrigan exactly where he’d left her. She jumped out of the van and rushed to hisside. “Cillian?”
“He’s going to be okay.” He hoped like hell he wasn’t lying to her. “Get back in the van. We’re going to meet your people at the entrance of the docks.”
It took mere seconds to get them loaded up, and he put Cillian down across the backseat, his head in his sister’s lap. Then James slammed the door and moved around to the driver’s side. He looked over the hood at Teague. “I owe you.”
“You owe my sister. None of this would have happened without her.”
Without her, James might be dead right now.
He climbed behind the wheel and threw the vehicle into gear. Two minutes later, they were off-loading Cillian into a plain black SUV. Carrigan reached for the door and stopped. “James—”
“Go with your brother, lovely. I have a few things I have to take care of.” Michael and Ricky were back in the docks, and he wasn’t about to leave those two fucks behind. He hooked the back of her neck and drew her in for a quick kiss. “Don’t worry. You haven’t seen the last of me.”
“Good.” With that one last word, she climbed into the SUV and was gone.
* * *
The ride to the hospital was a blur, but it was more than enough time for Carrigan to wade through past nightmares. Of standing next to Teague’s bedside and wondering if he’d live after he’d been so badly beaten, of wondering if there was something she could have done to save him. To save Devlin. Guilt was a funny thing sometimes.Rationally, she knew there was plenty of blame to go around, but she’d been all too willing to take more than her fair share.
This time, it reallywasher fault.
She was the one who’d thrown a bitchfit and demanded someone—anyone—help James. All she’d been thinking of was that life would never be the same if he wasn’t somewhere, breathing and going about his life andalive. She could submit to any number of fucked-up things as long as she knew he was okay. She’d willingly put her family in danger. Worse, she wasn’t sure she’d do anything differently if given a second go-round.I am a terrible person. So incredibly selfish.
They slammed to a stop in the ER entranceway. Someone must have called ahead, because there was a pair of nurses and a stretcher waiting. The men took Cillian from the backseat and strapped him into the stretcher, and then they were gone, rushing through the door and spitting medical jargon back and forth.
“It will be okay.”
She glanced at Callie, taking in how pale the other woman was. “I hope so.”
This hospital had to hold terrifying memories for her sister-in-law, too. She’d been the one to save Teague before. Carrigan followed her through the corridors to the appropriate waiting room. It looked like a thousand other waiting rooms across the US. And probably the world, too. She sank into the faded chair. “This is all my fault.”
“Cillian made his own decisions. He knew the risks.” Callie sat next to her. “He’s going to live.”
As much as she craved the words, she couldn’t trust them. “He got shotbecause of me.”
“No, he got shot because Dmitri Romanov called for James’s death.” Callie’s smile barely twitched her lips. “I seem to remember having a similar conversation a few months ago.”
The one where Carrigan had told Callie that the war escalating would have happened one way or another, even if she hadn’t killed Brendan Halloran. She scrubbed her hand over her face. “Guilt is such a sticky emotion.”
“Tell me about it.” Callie’s phone rang again. “Yes? You’re sure? Thanks, Micah.” She hung up. “Romanov is gone. I’m not sure when, but his hotel room is empty, and he’s nowhere to be found.”
