‘She’s so cold.Why is she so cold?’
Goodie frowned. It was Nick’s voice but not as she’d ever heard it in the past. Never before had she heard real fear there, or any real desperation.
‘Get in the sodding seat, Nick,’ she heard Sam shout above the sound of helicopter rotor blades. ‘I said you could come in the chopper if you did what you were told.’
‘She’s fucking ice cold!’ Nick shouted, his voice laced with so much panic it was almost painful to hear. She could feel his hands now, cupping her cheeks and resting on her forehead.
‘I know!’ Sam shouted back. ‘She’s lost a lot of blood. That’s why we need to go right fucking now. So sit down in yourgoddamnseat.’ Goodie frowned as she felt Nick’s hands leave her face and she slid back into the darkness.
When she woke again it was to bright lights above her head and activity around her. She could feel needles going into her arm, hands cutting away her clothes and people discussing her airway. She blinked open her eye and saw a dark-haired woman in scrubs staring down at her.
‘Hola, señora,’ the woman said, then continued on in Spanish. ‘You are safe now but we must put you back to sleep. You understand?’ Goodie nodded.
‘Hey,’ Goodie heard Nick shout, and looked past the nurse to see him standing just behind her, his eyes wide with fear. ‘Don’t speak to her in Spanish, she doesn’t understand –’
‘She speaks fluent Spanish, Nick,’ Goodie heard Sam’s much calmer voice explain from the end of her bed.
‘Well,Idon’t understand Spanish, you prick. What are they doing to her?’
The woman in scrubs ignored both of them and Goodie felt cold creep up her arm, something being injected into her veins. The pain receded and she welcomed the darkness again.
The next time Goodie opened her eyes she could see out of both. The lights above her head were still bright, but there was less activity around her now. She looked down to see her body dressed in a hospital gown and a cannula in her arm with blood coming in from a bag above her head. There was a tube coming out of her chest and draining what looked like bloody fluid. Her arm was in a sling and her left leg was in a cast to her thigh. She looked across at the bed opposite her and saw that the patient had a tube in their mouth and a ventilator breathing for them. She was in an intensive care unit. That much was obvious. She looked to the other side and saw a pair of large shoes next to her bed. Frowning, she scanned up the long legs and to the unshaven man asleep in the chair next to her bed. His hair was longer than she remembered, his cheeks more hollow, and there were dark shadows under his eyes, almost like bruises they were so pronounced. As if he could sense her return to consciousness his beautiful eyes flickered open and locked with hers.
‘You’re awake,’ he told her, relief sweeping over his features as he stood from the chair and came to her side. Then, to her shock, he leaned in and touched his forehead to hers, gripping her good hand with his and closing his eyes. Goodie’s IQ was well over genius level. She could process situations rapidly. Even with all her injuries and having been sedated for days, she knew.
‘You came for me.’ She frowned in frustration as her lips moved but no sound came out.
‘What, baby?’ Nick asked, pulling back and stroking her hair at her temples. ‘What are you trying to say?’
‘You came for me,’ Goodie managed to get out in a hoarse whisper as she blinked up at him in confusion.
‘Of course I did, honey. You’re mine.’
Goodie shook her head until Nick’s hands closed in on either side of her face, holding it still. ‘You’re stubborn. You’re a nutcase. But you’re mine, and I’m keeping you.’
* * *
‘I don’t knowhow Nick does this all day; it’s so boring.’ Goodie could hear Sam’s low rumble cutting through her dream, and clawed her way back to consciousness with some effort.
‘Well, what would you do if it was Katie lying there?’ Goodie heard another low voice reply, and blinked her eyes open to see Sam and Geoff facing each other at the side of her bed.
‘Fair point,’ Sam conceded. Goodie shifted slightly on the bed and sucked in a sharp breath as pain shot through her chest and into her shoulder. Both men turned to face her instead of each other.
‘Hey, Sleeping Beauty,’ Sam said, stepping close to the bed and laying both hands on the railing. ‘How’re you feeling?’
‘Like …’ Goodie cleared her throat but, frustratingly, was still only able to force out a hoarse whisper, ‘… shit.’
Sam’s face softened for a moment, and then he hardened his expression. ‘Yeah? Well, you deserve to feel like shit. Do you know how many risks we had to take to get you out? How worried we’ve been? Do you even care?’
‘Didn’t … ask you to come,’ Goodie rasped past her painful throat. Sam looked up at the ceiling as if seeking patience, then focused back on her.
‘Did you think we’d leave you there? Did you think we’d leave you to die?’
Goodie closed her eyes to block him out and slowly nodded. When she opened them again Sam was scowling down at her.
‘Damn it, Goodie,’ he snapped. ‘You’ve got people who care about you now. That carries responsibility. It means that you don’t go off on suicide missions on your own. You’re not alone anymore,myshka.* You have to learn to think about other people.’
‘Never asked …’ Goodie cleared her throat again, trying to make her words stronger, ‘… never asked for that. Never asked for people to care.’
