Chapter Fifteen
When the helicopter landed at the hospital, Drake tensed. He was inside the hospital, watching from his position in the waiting area. He saw the figures jump from the chopper, and, a few moments later, the medical attendants ran forward, pushing the small figure on the gurney toward the hospital’s emergency room entrance.
Noah was right beside that gurney.
The emergency room doors flew open. Drake had only a flash of Claire. The doctors were working on her. Yelling. Saying that she’d lost too much blood.
Fuck, not her.
Claire vanished as the operating room doors swung closed. Drake glanced over his shoulder. Now Noah stood just inside the emergency room waiting area. His shirt was covered with blood. So were his hands.
Cautiously, Drake approached his friend. He could see that Noah was on the edge. The very dangerous edge that he’d always sensed with Noah.
“He was on the boat,” Noah said, and his voice stopped Drake. That low, deadly whisper—Noah normally only used it in battle. “I wanted to take Claire out and show her that she could know all of me…but he was on my boat. Ethan Harrison was on my fucking boat.”
Trace had called Drake to let him know about the deadly situation. Trace had told him to haul ass to the hospital, and Drake knew that Trace would be arriving there any minute, too.
“She was trying to protect me.” Noah’s eyes were haunted. “She told him to let me go. That she’d stay with him.” His hands had fisted. “She would’ve done it, too. I saw it in her eyes. If he’d let me go, she would have gone away with that bastard and let him hurt her. Let him kill her. For me.”
“Noah…” He put his hand on Noah’s shoulder.
Noah shoved him back. “I didn’t move fast enough.”
Drake swallowed. “I don’t…I don’t know what you mean.”
“He knew she loved me. Ethan knew. I was going to attack him, but I didn’t move fast enough.” Grief ravaged his face. “He shot her in front of me. We were out on that water, and I couldn’t help her. There was too much blood. I kept telling her to hold on. To hold on…”
The ER doors burst open again. Trace stood there, breath heaving, as his gaze flew around the waiting area. He saw Noah and Drake, and he rushed toward them.
“But she didn’t open her eyes again,” Noah whispered. His head sagged forward. “I need her to open her eyes. I. Need. Her.”
Drake couldn’t even lie to his friend and tell him that Claire would be all right. She’d been so pale—ghost white—on that gurney. And he hadn’t even been able to see her breathing. Drake cleared his throat. “She’s a fighter.”
“I told her to fight for me. I begged her.” Noah swiped a hand over his cheek. When his hand fell again, Drake saw a line of blood on his face. Claire’s blood. “But I don’t even know if she could hear me.”
When Trace came up to the men, his gaze went straight to Noah. “Tell me what I can do.”
Noah’s attention was on the shut operating room doors. “I used to envy you, Trace. You always loved Skye. She loved you. You seemed to have it all.”
Trace’s face reflected his worry.
“I didn’t know it would…hurt so much.” Noah rubbed his chest. “It feels like someone is clawing my heart out right now.”
“Because you love her,” Trace said.
Noah’s head sagged forward. “I’d kill for her. I’d die for her.” His shoulders rolled back and his face slowly lifted. “But how can I live without her?”
“You won’t have to,” Trace told him, voice fierce. “You got her to the hospital. This isn’t like the time with your parents. The doctors are in there, and they’ll get her sewn up. She’s going to make it.” Maybe Trace’s words were a lie, but Drake was glad Trace had said them. Drake didn’t like the haunted, desperate look in Noah’s eyes.
Noah’s gaze flickered to Drake. “She loves me.”
“Yes, I figured that one out pretty fast.”
“I love her.”
“That one was obvious, too,” Drake muttered. “When you stopped the revolving bedroom door routine you enjoyed so much.”
Trace exhaled on a long, rough sigh. “I don’t know how Ethan Harrison managed to get all the way up to New York. He must’ve had help and-”
“The warden helped him.” Noah’s voice was flat. “So we need to destroy him.”
Trace nodded. “Consider it done.” He backed away.
Drake knew Trace had found his way to “help” Noah. Within the hour, Drake figured that the warden would be in either police custody or in the custody of Trace’s agents. The man wouldn’t get away.
Noah started to pace then, walking back and forth on the tiled floor of the waiting room. His gaze darted back to the operating room doors every few moments.
There was so much blood on the guy. Drake had to ask, “Noah, are you all right? Do I need to get a doctor for you?” The last thing he wanted was for Noah to keel over. The guy could be so focused on Claire that he was ignoring his own injuries.
Noah stopped pacing. “I think I got shot. Maybe my shoulder? It doesn’t matter.”
Uh, yes, it did. Drake motioned to a nurse.
Noah looked down at his clothes. “Most of the blood is Claire’s…and Ethan Harrison’s.”
“He’s dead.” Drake had gotten that bit of information from Trace on his way over and—
“I stabbed him in the heart and drove my knife into the bastard’s throat.” Noah started pacing once more. The nurse nervously hovered nearby. “He’ll never hurt Claire again.”
Drake whistled soundlessly. No, Ethan would never hurt Claire again. And if Claire didn’t survive the surgery…he knew that Noah York would never be the same again, either.
He’s lost control. He’s gone over the edge.
Claire would be the only one who could bring him back.
***
She looked so pale against the white covers.
Noah pulled his chair closer to Claire’s bed. She was connected to about five different beeping machines, and an IV fed into her left arm.
Her eyes were closed. Her wound stitched up.
The anesthesia was still in her system, but the doctors had assured him that Claire would be waking up soon. The surgery had been a full success.
She was going to make it.
He could actually breathe again.
Noah reached for Claire’s hand. His fingers threaded through hers. He just needed to hold her. To feel her, warm and alive, against him.
“That was too close,” he rasped to her. “Please, baby, don’t ever do that to me again.” Because for a while there, his whole world had gone dark.
He bowed his head, and he kept holding her.
***
When Claire opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was…Noah. He was in the chair right next to her bed. And his gaze was on her.
She tried to smile at him.
He immediately leaned forward. “Baby?” His hand was holding hers. So warm and strong.
But that was Noah. Her strong, sexy Noah.
“I…it’s over…” Her throat was desert dry, so she swallowed and finished, “isn’t it?”
His fingers tightened around hers. “Ethan’s dead.”
She didn’t remember him dying. She remembered a gunshot. Remembered falling. Remembered Noah begging her to hold on.
She’d tried so hard to hold on to him. “Didn’t…want you hurt…” The machines beeped around her.
“You were going to trade your life for mine.” He shook his head. The faint lines around his eyes and mouth were deeper, and Noah looked more grim than she’d ever seen him before. “That shit just wasn’t working. No one takes you from me. You’re mine, Claire and—”
“You’re mine,” she whispered back.
She could see her ring gleaming on her finger. The bracelets were gone, but the ring was still there. Noah had asked her to spend her life with him.
And, even though Ethan had tried to take that life away…I’m still here. “I wasn’t…leaving you.”
He pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “Good. Because I was ready to fight death to get you back.” His jaw clenched. “I love you, Claire Kramer, more than I ever thought it was possible to love anyone or anything.”