Joe secured Alastair’s legs while Ryan held his arms. He was trapped. Gasping for air. In agony. Trapped. He clenched his teeth hard and fought the instinct to struggle free.
“Now,” Ryan said to Flynn.
With no word of warning and no hesitation, Flynn put his hand on Alastair’s bruised ribs and came at him with the knife.
The pain was searing. Alastair tensed against the men holding him. His neck arched upwards. His teeth clenched hard enough to break, and a low growl came out of his mouth.
“I’ve made a small cut,” Flynn said. “The worst is over. Honest. I’m feeding the tube into the space. Nearly done.”
Although he knew the whole thing happened in a matter of seconds, it felt like a millennium. Abby handed Flynn the wipes, bandage and tape. Alastair felt the straw being secured to his side.
Alastair gasped in a breath and didn’t cough. His second breath was easier. The pain began to subside.
“Better,” he rasped.
And it felt like everyone in the room was breathing alongside him.
“You did good,” Abby said before kissing her husband.
“What. About. Me?” Alastair said, feeling lightheaded.
“You did good too.” Abby smiled down at him.
Alastair felt Joe and Ryan release his limbs. He didn’t move. He couldn’t move.
Flynn was talking to Callum through his headset. “The blue is fading. The rasp has gone, but we need a doctor and a hospital. He’s breathing better. And talking. No more coughing.” He grinned down at Alastair. “You’re going to be okay.”
Alastair couldn’t say anything. Once this was over he was going to punch the guy, then shake his hand for saving his life.
Flynn paused while he listened to Callum. He looked up at the women around them. Alastair hadn’t realised the hall was crowded. Most of the women from the hen night were staring down at them.
“Callum said he heard from Lake. They’ve got Megan. She’s fine. She’d freed herself before they got there.” He paused and grinned widely. “She shot her kidnapper in the backside.”
“That’s my girl!” Heather shouted, and then burst into tears. Caroline wrapped her arms around the woman and cooed to her.
“He also says that there are a couple of snowmobiles parked at the west entrance.” Flynn pressed another button and spoke again. “Lake, we have Rainne and Alastair in here. Collapsed lung. Broken ribs. Possible concussion. We need a doctor.” He waited, then nodded. “I’ll tell him.” Flynn turned to Ryan. “Can you go get a snowmobile and run into town to fetch the doc?”
“I’m on it.” Ryan ran from the room.
“You okay?” Joe said to Alastair.
He started to nod, but it hurt too much to move. “Aye. How’s Rainne, really?”
“You can ask me yourself,” said the voice he loved.
Alastair turned his head slightly to see Rainne rushing towards him. She was wrapped in a duvet and wasn’t steady on her feet. Jena was running after her, slowly, in her platform heels.
“She escaped,” Jena said. “She insisted on seeing Alastair, and when I turned my back she was gone.”
Rainne collapsed to her knees on Alastair’s left side. One hand poked out of her wrapping. She moved to touch him and then jerked back as though remembering her touch would be unwelcome. The pain of watching her uncertainty made Alastair ache more than all of his broken bones. Biting back a moan, he lifted his hand, took hers in his and wound their fingers together. Her eyes went wide as she watched him do it, then they went glassy with unshed tears. But she held him tight.
“I was unconscious,” she said softly. “When I woke up, you weren’t there.” Her eyes scanned down his body and she trembled. “There’s a pink plastic drinking straw sticking out of your side.”
“It’s Flynn’s fault,” Alastair said, pleased it no longer hurt to talk.
“Hey,” Flynn said. “I saved your ungrateful backside with that straw.”
“I’m grateful,” Rainne said. “I’m glad you saved him, Flynn.” A tear ran down her cheek and Alastair lifted his other hand to brush it away. Pain stopped him and he winced.