Page 3 of Raven's Curse
I’ll double back…
His own words looped in his head, the hollow tone following him into the darkness.
“Look who’s still alive.”
Chase chuckled, then grunted, holding his ribs as Rhett sauntered into his hospital room, a ridiculously large pink teddy bear clutched in his hands. He plopped the bear on the end of the bed, looking more than amused with himself.
Chase rolled his eyes. “Seriously, jackass? That had better be for the cute nurse.”
Rhett glanced at the bear and shrugged. “Thought you might get lonely in here all by yourself, seeing as you’re taking your sweet-ass time to heal.”
“I had a collapsed lung.”
“Yeah, like three days ago.” He nodded toward Chase’s ribs. “Chest tube’s already out.”
“This morning.” He cursed when his broken ribs ground against each other. “Trust me, I hate this.”
“You PJs are always the worst patients.” Rhett leaned in. “Heard the entire staff bitching about you wanting to double check every med, every procedure. Hell, you questioned a sponge bath with that brunette.” He shook his head. “You’ve got serious issues, brother.”
“With meds. And the brunette’s hands are like freaking ice. Not the kinky act you’re imagining.”
Rhett laughed, then sobered. “Sorry about Dalton and his crew.”
Chase swallowed the bitter taste of defeat, toying with the edge of his blanket. “Not your fault. You’re not the one who left them behind.”
“Neither were you.” Rhett stopped him with a hard stare. “Chase. You nearly died twice on the flight here. If Kash hadn’t spent the past six years watching you treat people, you’d be dead. Guy deserves a damn medal. As do you because I know, without a doubt, if I hadn’t forcefully dragged you into the chopper, you would have staggered to your feet and gone looking.”
Rhett slapped Chase’s thigh, ignoring Chase’s resulting grunt. “You wouldn’t have made it more than twenty feet, tops, but you would have tried. Would have died before you admitted you were too compromised to help. So, if you need to blame anyone, blame me. I can shoulder it.”
Chase snagged Rhett’s hand. “You’re an ass. And I owe you. Huge.” He shoved Rhett’s hand away as Foster and the others walked in. “Hey, Beckett, please tell me you reamed Rhett a new one for leaving the chopper. I mean, is that even allowed?”
Foster crossed his arms, shaking his head. “It’s not the leaving that scared me, it was him yelling at Sean to man the machine gun.” Foster gave Sean a clap on the back. “Have you seen the man fire anything that powerful? It’s sad.”
Sean flipped off Foster. “At least, I wasn’t yelling at Chase to get up, as if he could hear me from inside the cockpit.” Sean batted his eyelids. “You two have such a bromance. Folks are talking. You know that, right?”
“Shut up.” Chase looked at Foster. “So, they really didn’t find anyone else alive?”
Foster sighed. “Nothing, yet. The joint task force is considering another assault based on what the survivors told them. They want to take down the entire cell… but it’s doubtful anyone survived that missile strike.”
“And we’re sure it was that extremist group — the Legion — who initiated it? Because I have a hard time believing they had the resources, let alone the balls to blow up half their own compound.”
Foster shuffled over. “How about you focus on getting your ass out of that bed, and let me deal with the bureaucrats.”
Chase huffed, closing his eyes as pain shot through his ribs and into his chest, scattering dots across his vision when he finally looked up at his buddies. “That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the best I’ve got.” Foster glanced at Chase’s IV. “Are you taking any of the meds?”
“You know how I feel about that.”
“Buddy, you’re not your father. You can take the damn morphine and not kill anyone.”
Chase clenched his jaw, the mere mention of his dad sparking another kind of pain no amount of narcotics could ever touch. “You can’t guarantee that.”
“Damn straight we can.” Kash moved in on the other side. “Hand to God, I’ll tackle your broken ass to the floor if you so much as twitch. Or at least, toss the freaking stuffy at you.” He scrunched up his face, glancing at Rhett from the corner of his eye. “Did you win this at a carnival back in the nineties?”
Rhett shrugged. “I’ve been saving it for the right moment.”
Zain waved them both off. “Ignore them but take the meds. You’re a damn bear at the best of times. Trying to manage all this pain… People are talking, and it’s not kind.”
