I’ve never held someone dying in my arms before. My own pulse weakened to such a degree that I truly believed if she didn’t come back, my own heart would cease to beat. When she gasped for air, we all gasped with her. Filling our lungs and allowing ourselves to breathe.
Without Clove, there is no oxygen.
There is no life.
She’s our fucking everything.
To love someone so intensely that the fate of them living determines if you even want to live yourself…it’s overwhelming. And magical. Who can say they’ve loved that deeply? That intently?
The clatter of people moving around, coupled with the blinding, stark-white walls, gives me a headache as I sit in the waiting area with Ford and Zac. Our girl is going to be fine, but she needs to rest. Seb lost a shit-ton of blood, needed a transfusion, and thirty-eight stitches. Another war wound for the leader of our ship. If he hadn’t gotten to Clove when he did, she wouldn’t be here right now.
That thought makes my head thunder worse and the coffee in my stomach churn violently.
It’s crazy how it can take something so dramatic to make you realize life is too fucking short and unpredictable to be living any other way than happy.
Clove is our happy.
Yes, ours.
I guess it’s kind of weird. Four guys willingly sharing one woman. But she’s Clove fucking Sterling. She deserves four times the usual love. Love the four of us are desperately willing to give. Our relationship might be a little unusual to the outside world, but for us, it works. It just fucking works.
“He’s here,” Zac grinds out, rising tiredly to his feet. My eyes travel the long corridor to see Jack marching toward us. Weary eyes seek out his daughter, but he only finds us three.
“W-Where is she? I g-got your message,” he stutters, tumbling over his words.
This isn’t a man who would willingly put his daughter in harm’s way. This isn’t a man who would approve of his daughter’s attempted murder for his own political agenda. No, this is the face of a frantic father worried sick.
“First,” Zac rumbles, puffing out his chest standing toe to toe with Jack. “You need to tell us if you had any idea just how far Marjorie was willing to go to get you into the White House.”
Jack’s security team lingers near the entrance door out of earshot. They know he’ll be safe in our hands. And he will be if he has the right answers for us.
“What the hell are you talking about?” Jack demands, lines crinkling his eyes and making his lips thin into a line.
“Marjorie was behind the attempt on Clove’s life,” I tell him bluntly, watching him closely for a reaction.
His brows crash together in confusion at first. Then, he scowls angrily at me. “No,” he scoffs, shaking his head as though the very thought is absurd. “Marjorie wouldn’t hurt a damn fly and certainly wouldn’t know anyone capable of hurting Clove or anyone. She’s an assistant—a campaign manager.”
“She tried to kill Clove, Jack,” Zac growls. “Had her henchmen drown her in a motherfucking bathtub.”
Ford winces at the reminder and I swallow down the bile that keeps creeping up my throat.
Jack’s face falls and his hand goes to his chest as if Zac physically struck out at him. “She…is she…is my daughter…” His eyes shine with tears.
“She’s fine now,” I assure him. “She’s going to be fine.”
His body sags and his face crumples with emotion. “I think there has to be a mistake. I’ve known Marjorie for over a decade. She’s just Marjorie.” He clearly struggles to take in what we’re telling him.
“Actually, she’s just nothing,” Zac bites out with no tact. “She’s dead. I shot her in the head back at the house, so technically she’s not anything.”
Ford and I exchange an “oh shit” look.
Jack inhales loudly, his eyes locking with Zac’s, who stares back fiercely. He’s not fucking joking.
“She tried to kill Clove,” Zac hisses. “Anyone who is a risk to her life will die. I don’t care if it’s a woman who fooled everyone for a decade or a soldier paid to do as he’s told.” He steps further into Jack and drops his tone so low I have to move closer to hear him when he says, “Or a father trying to further his own agenda. They fucking die.”
Jack swallows loudly and nods, a smile tugging at his lips, surprising the shit out of me. Zac is a motherfucking scary ass dude.
“And I’m grateful that you take your job this seriously and that you’ve kept her safe,” Jack says to him. “All of you. Trust me when I tell you I’d happily die for Clove if in any way I was a risk to her. But I’m not. None of this matters without her. My political career—my life, means nothing without her.” His expression hardens. “Now I’m going to go see my daughter. I suggest you go to the house and get rid of any evidence of what occurred there.”