A shadow crossed Blade's face. "He got away in the confusion. But don't worry about that now. Focus on healing."
But there was something in his expression, something hard and cold beneath the relief and tenderness, that told her Jose's escape wasn't the end of the story. That Blade had plans for the man who'd nearly taken her from him.
"You haven't left, have you?" she asked, realizing suddenly that the exhaustion in his face wasn't just from worry, but from maintaining a constant vigil.
"No," he admitted. "The hospital staff tried to throw me out on day two. Lucky had to pull some strings with the administrator. The charge nurse in the ER is Samantha. Her husband is the head of the ER and a member of Valhalla. I wasn’t leaving your side and they understood."
Of course he hadn't left. Not Blade. Not her protective, possessive enforcer who took his responsibilities so seriously. Who took her safety as his primary mission.
Who loved her.
"Your chest," she said, suddenly remembering his injury. "Are you okay?"
A hint of sheepishness crossed his face. "Tore my stitches coming after you. Doc was... not pleased. But I'm fine. They patched me up here after they stabilized you."
"Coming after me?" she repeated, confused. "But you weren't supposed to be at the quarry."
"I wasn't," he acknowledged. "Not until I heard you were down. Then wild horses couldn't have kept me away."
The simple statement, delivered in that matter-of-fact tone, made her heart clench. He'd come for her. Despite his injuries, despite the doctors' orders, despite everything. He'd come for her.
"I killed two of Jose's men," she said suddenly, the memory surfacing with unexpected clarity. "When they tried to grab Makenzie. I didn't even think about it. I just... reacted."
Blade nodded, unsurprised. "Your training kicked in. Your father's lessons."
"I'm not sorry," she admitted, searching his face for judgment and finding none.
"You shouldn't be," he replied firmly. "They were trying to hurt you, hurt people you care about. You did what you had to do."
His simple acceptance of her actions, of the violence she'd committed, was strangely comforting. No condemnation. No shock that his little girl could take lives when necessary.
Just understanding. Respect, even.
"The club," she began, struggling to organize her thoughts through the fog of medication. "Are they still...?"
"Looking for Jose?" he supplied. "Yes. Savage is leading the hunt. Jose's gone to ground, but he can't hide forever. Not from us."
The cold promise in those words should have disturbed her. Instead, she found herself nodding slightly. Jose had tobe stopped. Had to answer for Tim's torture, for Marcus's abduction, for the bloodshed at the quarry.
For nearly taking her away from Blade.
"I should be there," Blade continued, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "But I couldn't... I needed to be here. When you woke up."
"I'm glad you are," she whispered, squeezing his hand weakly. "I needed... needed to see you too."
His expression softened. "Doc said once you're awake and stable, we can discuss transferring you back to the clubhouse. He's set up a proper recovery room there. More comfortable than this place. More secure, too."
The thought of leaving the hospital was both appealing and frightening. "Is that safe? Medically, I mean?"
"Only if you're stable," he assured her. "And we'd have round-the-clock care. Doc's got a full team; nurses, medical equipment, everything you'd get here."
She wasn't surprised. The club clearly had significant resources, connections that extended far beyond what a typical motorcycle club might command. Another reminder that the Spartan Watchmen weren't ordinary bikers, but highly trained former military operating with precision and discipline even in civilian life.
"Okay," she agreed, the prospect of recovering in a more secure, more private location definitely appealing. "When?"
"Let's see how the next twenty-four hours go," he suggested. "If you continue to improve, maybe tomorrow."
She nodded slightly, already feeling exhaustion pulling at her again. Fighting against it, she struggled to keep her eyes open, to stay with him a little longer.
