Page 103 of Love Undercover
Chase’s brows crashed together. “You sure? Shock and adrenaline can keep you from recognizing injuries.”
She shook her head and touched his cheek, just under the healing slice from his fight a few days before. “Will you be okay?”
He grimaced as he shifted to lean against the wall at his back. “Yeah. Like Kesterson said, it’s a through-and-through. A graze through my side. That’s why no one’s in a rush to get to me while they deal with Zimmerman and Gibson.”
He nodded toward the crowd of agents swarming two vehicles with flashing lights. They watched as the two men were shoved into their respective transports. Seeing it didn’t make the knot in her stomach release.
“Sadie.”
She looked at Chase again, and the words shot out of her. “I didn’t get out of the car on purpose. I promise.”
He huffed a laugh, then sucked in a breath. “Don’t make me laugh.”
She winced. “I’m so sorry.” Her hands fluttered above him again. She wanted so badly to touch him, check him overphysically, do something. She felt so useless while he bled and ached.
“Hey,” he said, his voice lower.
She met his gaze, tears gathering in her eyes again, threatening to spill over.
He hooked his free arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
She gasped, gripping his shoulders. “Doesn’t that hurt you?”
“I don’t care,” he growled, his face drawing near to hers. “I just need to feel you, to know that you’re here. Alive.”
The comfort felt so good, so she curled herself around him, holding on for dear life until the paramedics came and forced her away.
She held herself, her eyes glued on the medics as they checked him, carefully loaded him onto a gurney, and wheeled him to the ambulance that waited. All the while, the crowd of law enforcement teemed around her like a mass of black ink swirling in her periphery.
52
Revelations
Only stitches. Chase figured that was all he’d need, and though the needle filled with the numbing agent had hurt like a bitch, he was feeling pretty decent, considering.
But anxiety crawled through him knowing Sadie was back at headquarters for questioning and separated from him while he was being doctored. He wanted to take her back to her apartment himself and hoped she’d still be at the office when he arrived. Not that he’d want her to have to wait around for him. That could be hours. But he still hoped.
It perished slowly as they took the time to address the slice in his cheek and check his ribs to be sure they weren’t broken, running him through x-rays and CT scans, making him sit and wait for each in turn.
He tried to rush the process, eyes sliding endlessly to the clock as the urgency burned in his bones. They didn’t care how badly he needed to get to headquarters, that he still had to debrief, fillout and file reports, do all the legwork required of him. The fact that there was a list of corrupt Bureau agents Chase needed to help bring in meant nothing to them.
Dropping his credentials did nothing to speed the process.
After way too long, bruised was the confirmed diagnosis for his ribs. Chase could barely contain his impatience, and every answer he gave was serrated.
The doctor’s eyes flashed to Chase’s face, the tablet in his hand. “Now, you need to take it easy. Because of location, those stitches could easily pop, and I’ll tell you now it’ll hurt like hell.”
“Duly noted,” he snarled, hiding his wince as he slipped his shirt back over his head, the fabric falling over the white bandage on his side.
“I mean it, son,” the doctor said, his mouth carving a downward slope on his face. “You were damn lucky. With those ribs and that gunshot.”
Chase merely growled and flew out the door.
With a growing sense of unease, he stalked through the cubicles, between rows of desks, moving straight back to interview rooms. He found the cluster of agents working the case, Kesterson among them.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
They all looked at him as if they had no idea the absolute panic wasn’t lighting him on fire from the inside.
