Page 16 of Raven's Curse
Foster sighed. “Chase.”
His tone spoke volumes. No upbeat pep talk. How strong Rhett was. That he’d conquered worse. Just Chase’s name slapping him in face. The final blow before it all collapsed.
Chase looked down at his hands. The blood. The sweat. A smear of gel across his knuckles. Remnants of a life’s worth of training and skill reduced to elements he knew hadn’t been enough.
He hadn’t been enough.
He turned, walked out, each step harder than the last. Bleeding what was left of his sanity onto the floor. Just another mess the hospital staff would mop up — wash away along with his soul.
Voices echoed in the background, people rushing past in a hazy blur as he planted his ass on a chair. The air settled heavily around him, the lights casting his shadow on the floor.
No comfort.
No more chances.
Just the voice in his head screaming out in anguish. The blood on his hands silently mocking him.
No other choice but to wait.
Greer stood in the hallway, everything blending into flashes of white coats and blood-soaked gauze. Voices shouted out vitals and procedures, instruments clattered onto trays. Someone clipped her in the shoulder, but she barely registered it, her gaze focused on Chase — ass in a chair, head bowed in defeat as he stared at his hands. Blood coated his skin, more soaked into his clothes.
She closed her eyes, forced it all down. How she’d been in this situation before. Been the one sitting in the hard, vinyl chair, waiting for someone in scrubs to crush her heart. Take away what she valued most.
That like her brother, Troy, Rhett wasn’t going to make it.
She scrubbed a hand down her face, rerunning the sequence of events. The call, the attack… Had it all been a coincidence? Or a ruse to cover up some shadow ops agent tying up loose ends? Something Rhett had been involved in before that mission had left him in a coma. That the mere thought of Rhett regaining consciousness had started a chain of events designed to throw her off the scent. Have her chasing red herrings when Rhett’s death had been the end goal.
Or was it the start of something bigger? Darker.
Forty-two.
It could mean anything. Just like the flare and the staging — how the tubing had been wrapped around him, holding him up. Elements that sent shivers down her spine.
She’d spent too many years getting into the heads of monsters. Learning how to conjure their dark thoughts. Planning for every contingency.
Now, she couldn’t crush the voice in her head whispering that Rhett’s survival had never been up for debate. Had been sealed before she and Chase had gotten out of her Bronco, and that nothing Chase tried — the heroic measures he’d executed in and out of the chopper — could have stopped it.
That they’d been given just enough hope to lure them in — make them believe they could alter reality.
She snagged one of the nurses standing on the periphery. “I need all of Mr. Oliver’s clothes. Anything on him you removed, no matter how insignificant it seems. Bagged and ready once…”
She didn’t finish, the nurse simply nodding in reply. Greer retreated into an empty room, grabbed her radio. “Bodie. Jordan. I need an update.”
The radio crackled, the static blast scratching at her last nerve before Bodie sounded over the speaker. “Scene’s secure. Jordan’s with Kash. They’re scouting the area. Nyx caught a scent, but they’re keeping the search contained. Jordan’s checking in every fifteen minutes, so any chatter doesn’t give away their position. I did as you asked and called Eli in early.”
Bodie paused, voices sounded in the background. “The guy didn’t hesitate. He’s already here. Crime techs should arrive within the hour. We’ll stay until they’re done, though, with the entire building to scour, it’ll likely take some time. I’ve got my buddies on standby to help spell peripheral security if needed.”
Greer ran through the checklists in her head. Acutely aware neither of them had dared voice the word murder, yet. “I called Lieutenant Morgan up in Warrenton. He’s got another CSI crew gearing up. They can process Raven’s Lodge. See how our perp grabbed Rhett out of his damn bed without anyone noticing. Morgan knows to send you all the video evidence along with copies of the forensics. But we’ll need the state police’s help if we want to contain this quickly.”
“Roger, that.”
She pushed out a rough breath. “Just remember, nothing heroic until daybreak. This guy…”
“I saw the damage inside — what’s easily several dozen casings. Kash knows the score.” Bodie paused, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air. “How’s…”
Greer swallowed, closing her eyes against the strain. “Doesn’t look good.”
“Shit.”
