Page 151 of Nest of Thieves
VETTE
Flashes of mis padres’ funeral fill my head as we wait for Doc to arrive. Unlike Mac, I shove my emotions down deep inside of me, shutting off every reaction that I want to have. I want to touch her the way he does, to gently caress her cheek. To whisper romantic words and swear to burn the Earth if she dies.
Those feelings beckon to the young boy inside of me, the one who lost his whole world in a matter of moments. I can’t go through that again. I don’t want to. I have no choice but to believe she’ll make it. The slug hit her shoulder, and she’s lost a lot of blood. If the bullet hit subclavian artery—
Stop it. She’s going to make it.
“Let’s take her to the med room,” Lark says, the only one of us able to think logically. “She’ll need to be moved there, anyway, and we can help speed things up.”
“I’ll carry her,” I say, sliding my arms under her legs and back.
Jo groans in pain and Mac snarls. I glare at him, but he’s already got himself under control. The last thing we need is a half-feral alpha trying to interfere with what needs to be done. I climb to my feet, and her head lolls back, her lips parting with a soft whimper.
“You’re okay, mami. I got you.”
Lark races ahead of me and opens the garage with the keypad. Placing his hand beneath her head, Mac holds it up. I nod at him and, together, we carry her into the med room. The lights are blinding white, and Lark’s already spread out a white sheet over the table. I lay her down and step back. Her eyelids flutter but she doesn’t wake up.
The arm that was under her back is wet. I glance at it, staring at her blood. My throat clogs with emotion.
“Hang on, mami.”
“Hang on, Mamá,” I said, glancing around the hospital. A nurse walked by the room, and I raced out and called after her.
She came over to me. “Is everything okay, hun?”
“Mi mamá.” I pointed to the room. A solid tone emitted from the machinery connected to my mamá, the sound solid and unending.
The nurse pursed her lips and her forehead wrinkled. “Why don’t you come with me?”
That was the last time I saw my mamá.
* * *
LARK
It takes fifteen minutes for Doc to arrive. Mac is pressing a towel to the wound to stop the blood. His face is almost unrecognizable, the hurt and pain contorting his features. Jo’s wound is serious, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt more afraid or more terrified of tomorrow. I’ve lived my entire life without knowing who my parents were. Vette lost his, so he’s familiar with this pain. Mac’s situation was a little different, but he still knows that sort of loss.
I’ve never felt the loss, only the lack of anything to lose. It’s almost cruel to be thankful I haven’t faced the same sort of heartbreak as Vette and Mac. But I am. This pain?
Thisis agony I never want to feel again. I never want to stare at the omega I love and wonder if her next breath will be her last.
“You’re late,” Mac says, scowling at Doc.
“Traffic.” Doc huffs and drops his bag on the counter, moving to Jo without sparing Mac a second glance. “What happened?”
“She was shot in the shoulder.” I indicate the area. “She’s lost a lot of blood. She also drank half a bottle of tequila.” Right now, I’m not sure if she’s passed out from blood loss, pain, or being shit-faced.
“She’s a tough one.” Doc snaps on two gloves and Mac steps away. Doc moves the towel and picks up a small pair of scissors, cutting her top and pulling the fabric out of the way.
“Stop.” Vette steps forward, but I slam my hand into his chest.
“He has to move her shirt.”
Doc clears his throat. “Perhaps it would be better if you wait outside. I can’t have you growling and snarling at me.”
“Hell no.” Mac crosses his arms over his chest.
Sighing, I push Vette back a little. “This is what’s best for Jo. He’s right. We can’t stay here without getting mad. What happens when she starts crying in pain?”
