Brick crushed her against the wood, and his tension radiated through her bones as if they shared an energetic system.She peeled her fingers away from her eyes in desperation, needing to see that everyone but Tommy was all right.
Taschen returned fire.One bullet hit Tommy in the arm, another got him in the leg.He dropped to the dock and aimed at them.The bullet clapped.Brick jolted then covered her even more, protecting her head.Only a small gap between his bicep and the dock allowed her to see Rosealee tackle Tommy.He stumbled, and they both careened over the edge of the dock.
Taschen launched himself into the water, and in less than a minute, he tossed Tommy back onto the wooden slats, the other man’s gun in his hand.Rosealee, soaking wet, knelt next to Tommy and cuffed him.
Brick eased off her.“Are you hurt?”His words came out winded, strained.
She shook her head and pushed herself into a sitting position.“No, I’m fine,” she said, grasping Brick’s hand.“I can’t believe that happened.I’m so glad you picked up on Tommy—” Her gaze rounded at the sight of fresh blood covering his neck.“Brick!”
He grunted and his eyes turned weary.He covered his neck with his palm, but blood seeped through his fingers.
Terror ping-ponged through her body.
Brick’s eyes flickered.
“Taschen!”she screamed, as Brick slumped into her arms.She caught his head and held it on her lap.She ran her hand over his face, his head.“Help!Brick’s shot.”The cry tore from her heart and prayers fell from her lips.
“Please, God,” she whispered.“Don’t take him from me.Don’t take him from us.”
His hand dropped away from the wound, and his eyes closed.She placed her palm firmly over the bullet hole on his neck, her hand shaking and numb.His hot, sticky blood made fear slam against her palate.She struggled to breathe but knew she needed to hold it together, to keep him here.But the harder she pushed, the more blood leaked out.
Taschen’s and Rosealee’s footsteps pounded on the dock, shaking Natalie’s already trembling body.“No, no, no.Brick,please.I can’t lose you.Stay with me!”Tears poured down her cheeks.
Brick’s eyes opened, but they were glassy and dazed.“Baby, I love you.T-Take care of my boy.”
Taschen and Rosealee were on them.
“Do something!”she shrieked.
They moved fast, pulling Brick from her lap onto the wooden boards.Taschen grabbed Brick’s discarded wet shirt from the boat and pressed the material to the wound while Rosealee barked orders into her cell phone.
Next to Brick, Natalie sobbed.She squeezed his limp, chilled hand and willed him to live.His eyes stayed latched on hers, but his gaze was distant.Then all the tension left his face.
“No!”she screamed.
Brick’s eyes closed and the world fell away from her.
***
Whomp,whomp,whomp
The huge blades of the helicopter sliced through the air as Brick was rushed into the aircraft on a gurney.A paramedic wrapped Natalie in a thick, scratchy blanket as he assisted her inside and onto one of the smooth leather seats, then the two medics went to work on Brick.
A minute later, the door slammed shut and the helicopter lifted from the beach.She didn’t look out the window to search for Taschen and Rosealee.Nothing in this world would tear her gaze from Brick’s seemingly lifeless form.The slow, laborious beeping of a nearby monitor told her that somehow, he was still fighting.Part of her wanted to see his eyes—they hadn’t opened since he lost consciousness on the dock.She needed reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.But the other part knew he needed every ounce of energy to survive.As long as his heart was still beating, she wouldn’t dissolve into nothing.
She curled the blanket tightly around her shoulders.Tears misted her eyes.Brick’s skin was sallow, and his lips sported a blue tint.An oxygen mask had been fitted over his face.The medics continued to stabilize him.Taschen had managed to staunch the bleeding until help arrived.
Her mouth burned to hurl questions at the paramedics.Only one truly mattered—was he going to be okay?But she couldn’t distract them, and they probably wouldn’t have an answer.
Every beat of her heart called her to go to Brick’s side.Find his hand.Tell him he had to hang on.
One of the paramedics looked at her, his expression grim and sympathetic.“He’s stable,” he said, above the noise of the aircraft.“We should be at the hospital in thirty minutes.”
She swallowed and gave one sharp nod of acknowledgment because that’s all she could do.
The young man, probably no older than twenty-five, motioned with his head.“You wanna talk to him?”
She inched forward and grasped Brick’s hand.His long, thick, calloused fingers were cold in hers.Taking such a strong, capable hand and feeling nothing in response shocked her more than the frigid lake water that’d swallowed her up.
