Page 3 of To Claim A King
The barbarian was out in the main lobby area pacing the floor, and had been on his phone for the last two hours. I had no idea who he spoke to, but I knew it wasn’t Blondie by the lack of shouting. When she found us, she was going to murder us. Not with her fists, though I knew she could do it.
No, Blondie would chop all our dicks off with a few chosen words spiked with cyanide. I should have kept the doc on standby for the inevitable tongue-lashing we were all about to receive.
I wanted to call her, but I’d lost my phone in the shuffle, somewhere in the Brothel of Betrayal between killing a scary assassin chick and racing like hell to save the life of the sleeping fucker in front of me.
Luckily, it was encrypted, and only a hacker as good as me or Blackbird could get into it. Unluckily, I wasn’t leaving this place anytime soon, so I wasn’t able to pass the time with anything but counting tiles on the ceiling or praying to gods that may or may not exist.
No phone, no car, no apartment. I was completely beholden to two sexy, murderous bastards, and a sexier vengeful Queen.
Not exactly how a little boy pictures his life going, but I couldn’t say I was all that sad about it. Honor among thieves, and all that. We were a cantankerous bunch, but the loyalty they’d shown me in the last few weeks was more than I’d ever received among my band ofactualthieves.
Looking at Aaron now, paler than a sheet with sweaty dark hair plastered to his temples, I could say with certainty I’d be sad if he was gone. We needed him to make this group work. Hell,Ineeded him.
Please don’t die, you bullish twat.
As if the comatose man could hear my thoughts, he shifted beneath the blanket, brow furrowing in sleep. The doc warned us he might awake sooner than if he’d been put under at a hospital, but I hadn’t expected he’d come to right in the middle of my “sacred” prayer time.
Except he wasn’t coming to. He was coding. The heart monitor beeped out a harsh rhythm and the spiky mountain of his arrhythmia lapsed into the straight line of doom.
“Kellan!” I yelled sharply, rushing to the med kit the doc had left with the AED paddles. I grabbed them and threw off the blanket, ripping open the hospital gown to expose Aaron’s bare chest.
“Kellan!” I screamed again, peeling off the strips of sticky backing to tape the two pads to his pecs. Aaron was a hairy fucker, and he’d hate me when I had to tear them off later, but I’d risk his wrath to keep him alive.
My barbarian friend barged into the room as if it were on fire, surprise overtaking his features when I pressed the shock button. Aaron’s chest heaved upward with the burst of electricity.
“We’re going to need to do CPR,” I told him, surprising myself with the cold calm in my voice. “Get ready.”
He did as he was told for probably the first time in his life, settling immediately on the other side of the bed. The paddles pulsed one more time before I barked out the order.
“Now!”
I fought the urge to hurl while Kellan blew air into Aaron’s lungs. I waited with the paddles, hoping like hell I wouldn’t need to use them again.
Chest compressions. Breaths in the mouth. Chest compressions.
If I thought the wait through his surgery had stopped time, that had nothing on the black hole I was trapped in now.
Please, Epona, Gods, and Goddesses—let this man live and I’ll never pull another con again.
More chest compressions. More breaths. It wasn’t working.
Fuck, fuck,fuck.
I hit the shock button again, knowing it was the last time I could feasibly do so without risking his heart.
Please, please, please.
I held my own breath until Kellan blew out the last of his air into Aaron’s lungs and raised his gaze to mine. The blue in his eyes dimmed to a terrifying black as all hope drained out of them.
Pain exploded in my chest as if I’d been the one to get a zap with the paddles. This was it. Hillary was going to have a broken heart, and Conan and I wouldn’t be able to pick up the pieces with our own hearts broken too.
The room was deathly silent until we were both jolted by the electronic chirp once again.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
I’d thought a woman’s orgasm was the most beautiful sound in the world, but it now took second place to the sound of the heart monitor singing the tune of a steady rhythm.
Setting aside the pads, I leaned over his body, placing my head to his heart, needing confirmation with my own ears.
