“Shit.” Gray rubbed her hand in circles, giving Eve something to focus on. “Donotpass out. Do you hear me?”
Hand. Rub. Circle. Do not pass out. Hand. Rub. Circle. Do not pass out.
“Davis,” Gray shouted. “Grab that chair.”
Rapid footsteps sounded, and the scrape of metal reached Eve before the seat hit the backs of her legs.
“Sit,” Gray ordered. “Keep your head down, and for the love of God, breathe already.”
“Want me to get Adam?” Davis asked, worry coating his voice.
“No. She’s fine. Can you find a bottle of water though?”
“Yeah, there’s some on the plane. Be right back.” He took off running, the sound of his clomping boots fading quick amidst the hustle of an elite black ops unit preparing to do the exact thing she’d asked them to do.
Take down the Matthews and find a serial killer.
Oh God.Her fear spiked. What if something went wrong? She didn’t want the Matthews to be hurt, but what if something bad happened to one of Adam’s family? She’d never get over it.
Please. Let this go according to plan. Let the mission be successful. Let the JTT find a way to bring the murdered women home.Sweat broke out over her skin as a heavy tread approached. “She okay?” Zander asked.
“She’s fine. Just a little woozy.”
“Want me to get Doc?”
“No. We’re good. Davis is bringing some water.”
“Okay. You’ll signal if you need anything?”
“Yep.”
Zander left, and Gray got serious. “Listen up, buttercup. You need to get your shit together, or these guys will insist on protecting you by keeping you here. That’s not what you want, is it?”
Eve shook her head.
“Okay, so here’s the deal.” Reunited with Eve’s back, Gray’s hand offered some unexpected, but much appreciated, comfort and support. “You need to stay conscious and be circulating oxygen in the next thirty seconds or you’ll be benched. Got it?”
With the threat of being left behind hanging over her head, Eve worked on her breathing. In for three. Out for three. Her lungs burned and her chest ached, yet she persisted. With every exchange her ribs expanded a little more, and reoxygenated, her brain came back online in time for a wave of embarrassment to swamp over her.
Adam’s sister was an award-winning freelance photographer. Yeah, Eve had Googled her as soon as she had the chance. Impressive didn’t begin to describe the woman. Her pictures were powerful, stark, and taken in some of the most dangerous places in the world.
So, no big surprise Eve was the one with her head between her knees trying to keep from going lights out while Gray stood calmly by her side rubbing her back.
“Everything okay here?” Chase’s boots came into view.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” Gray replied. “Vans loaded?”
“Yep. If Eve’s not up to this, maybe the two of you should stay here? Grant can—”
“Not fucking happening, Rambo. She needs to be a part of this, or she’ll never forgive herself for what the Matthews did to those women. She’ll be fine once we get going.”
Unable to speak around the lump in her throat, Eve kept her head down but nodded multiple times as another set of footsteps approached. She recognized them immediately and wasn’t at all surprised when Adam crouched in front of her, a bottle of water dangling from his hand.
“You hanging in there, baby?” She managed to squeak out something that sounded like an affirmative, and he uncapped the water. “Here…” He put the bottle against her palm. “Take a sip.”
Her fingers shook when she curled them around the plastic, but she managed not to spill as she sat up and tipped her head back. Luckily, the cold liquid made it down her throat giving her a new lease on life.
She would have chugged the entire bottle if Adam hadn’t stopped her. “Easy.” He put his hand over hers. “Too much, too soon, and you’ll vomit.” He took the water and replaced the cap before giving it back to her. “Can you stand?” He stood and offered his hand. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet.
