Page 50 of Shielding his Legacy
Nothing moved.
He rushed to Marina’s side and felt for a pulse. She had to be okay. They’d planned for his, done everything in their power to ensure her safety, but there was an obvious measure of risk that couldn’t be avoided.
Her hair was the same length and color as Eva’s, but her features weren’t as fine. Still, from a distance, and with a plastic doll wrapped up in a baby blanket, their similarities were great enough to pull off the ruse.
“She has a pulse,” he said, relieved, and began searching for injuries. He ripped her shirt, revealing the Kevlar vest with damage from two slugs. On her left upper arm, a wound spurted arterial blood. “I need a tourniquet.” Even as he said it, he worked his belt out of its loops and yanked it tightly between the wound and her shoulder.
“Ugh…” she moaned, wincing and moving her head a fraction of an inch.
“I know that hurts. I know it does,” he chanted. “You’re going to be all right. You’re going to be just fine.”
“My head,” said Marina. “I hit my head when the chair fell backwards.” She tried to sit up.
“You stay right there,” he commanded. “Ambulance is on its way.”
Reaching up, she pressed her palm against her forehead. “This is why I became a military psychologist, not a soldier.”
“Hey, a lieutenant’s a lieutenant, am I right?” he joked, desperate to keep things light. She seemed okay, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried. It was his fault she was wounded, and until she was safe and sound, he was going to be concerned.
Marina glared at him through eyes that were mere slits against the overhead lighting, and blew out air. “You owe me one for this.”
“Just name your price.” Emotion rose up in the back of his throat. It could have been Eva and Abby who’d taken fire in this room. Instead, this woman had been hurt while Gavin’s daughter and the woman he loved were hiding in a janitor’s closet with some rookie officer.
The woman he loved.
The thought jumped out at him, an exclamation in an otherwise quiet contemplation of gratitude. But he didn’tcorrect it, didn’t mentally swap it out for some other word that was far less true. He loved her. He truly did. Maybe he had since that first moment when he’d stopped to change her tire.
“I want to see you in my office, DeGrey. That’s my price. And not just once, either.”
He nodded. Her requests to see him in therapy used to be an irritation, something to scoff at. Now they were a chance to get the life he wanted, instead of the life he’d been living on repeat since long before he’d met Eva. “I’ll be there with bells on, Doc. Got a few things I could use some help with.”
The EMTs arrived with a stretcher and promptly cleared the room, landing Gavin in the hallway where Jacoby waited to talk with him. “Did you get him?” Gavin asked.
The other man nodded. “Clear as day on the camera we set up outside the room. Your trap worked, Mr. DeGrey.”
“Who was it?”
“Ron Carver, a detective. He’s been with the NYPD seventeen years, and on the task force for four.”
Relief was a balm to Gavin’s frayed nerves. “He’s going to get to see what life looks like on the other side of the bars from now on.”
Jacoby shook his head solemnly. “Carver shot himself in the head before he could be apprehended. Officers were in pursuit. He knew it was over.”
Gavin wasn’t sure what to say, so he said nothing, simply stood beside the other man as they wheeled Marina out on a stretcher. She held out the plastic doll in Gavin’s direction. “Take your kid, would ya?”
He took it, noting Marina’s blood on her outfit and the dark line where the doll’s face had been grazed by a bullet.He just stared at it, horror and gratitude mixing in an awkward stew.
Jacoby held out his hand. “I wish you well, Mr. DeGrey.”
“Thank you, sir.” Gavin looked forward and back. It was time to find Eva and Abby, and wrap them up so tightly he might never let them go. “I’m all turned around. Which way’s the supply closet?”
26
Eva sat cross-legged on the floor of the supply closet, a flashlight illuminating the far wall. She was rocking forward and back, continuing to burp the baby long after it was necessary, taking comfort in Abby’s tiny body and her memory of Gavin doing the same.
She had to distract herself from what might be happening outside the supply closet door. Too many people she cared about were out there. Gavin. Sloan. Champion and Trace. Even Marina, who she’d never even met, but was willing to stand in Eva’s place.
Those shots had been aimed at someone, and until she knew who—and whether or not they’d found their mark—she was going to be a nervous wreck.
