Instead of dying down, more motion surrounded them. Shields poured from the trees and overtook each of the hired guns, who stared in shock, the head of their organization decapitated. Almost literally.
“Jordan! Teddy’s down.” Sola’s flat tone said plenty.
James confirmed anyway, “Does he need medical assistance?”
“Too late.” Sola cursed.
Jace’s stomach heaved as he realized the cost of their operation.
Cherri… Teddy…
Nolan?
The stakes were high for the Shields. No matter how skilled and experienced they were, they weren’t all coming home. Not this time, and likely many others. There was a reason governments, organizations, and who knew who else gave Jordan enough money to set them up for life.
None of the bounty they’d come into would matter if they lost Nolan now.
Jace scrambled toward him. Laurel had already rushed to Nolan’s side. He lay gasping on the ground beside Draven’s lifeless body, clutching his chest. It was hard to see what damage there was through the spray of blood squirting from his neck.
“Nolan!” Laurel wailed, clasping her hands over his wound as if she had any chance of stemming the rush of blood.
Jace blinked, the sight of crimson dripping between her fingers planting the seeds of nightmares he would live with for years to come. He knelt beside his lovers and stared into Nolan’s pretty eyes. He leaned in and fixed the other guy’s always-perfect hair.
The corner of Nolan’s mouth tipped up despite his ragged breathing and groans.
Then Kennedy was there, shoving Jace aside. Marcus was one step behind her, approaching Laurel, gently shooing her away. “You want me to keep the pressure on?”
“Yes. Take over for Laurel. Your hands are bigger. When you swap, I’m going to wipe him off and see what we’re dealing with. Then I’ll know what we need to do next.” Kennedy was brisk and efficient, already hauling things—bandages, a clamp, and other shit Jace didn’t know the purpose of—from her medical kit. He hoped that she stayed in hyper mode. As long as she was resourceful, flying through her routines, he had a sliver of hope.
Jace couldn’t be standing there watching the man he loved bleed out. Not now. Not when they’d barely found each other and especially not when Nolan had saved their lives. Again.
He’d done it once before when he’d brought Laurel and Jace together. When he’d gently popped the bubble of denial they’d blown around themselves.
As Sola stepped up and tried to guide them back a few feet, giving Kennedy and Marcus room to work, numbness overtook Jace. Laurel collapsed against him, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed, unable to watch Nolan suffering, dying, right there before them. Jace clutched her to him.
Nolan’s blood smeared across Jace’s arms and shirt when Laurel broke down, grasping him as if he would be able to keep her steady when Nolan wasn’t there to do it for them.
He wasn’t sure that was possible. Not anymore.
The truth was, if Nolan didn’t survive, neither would their relationship. They would never overcome the guilt and grief he would leave as his legacy. Even their love for each other wouldn’t be able to fill the holes in their hearts.
21
Nolan groaned. His arm was stiff. Probably trapped under Laurel or Jace, the pitfall of sharing a bed with two lovers.
Wait.Laurel! Jace! Draven…shit!
He would have bolted upright except the discomfort in his arm radiated down to his chest and up to his neck. He realized it wasn’t due to a cramped muscle but the direct hit he’d taken to his body armor, which had undoubtedly saved his life even if he’d still cracked a rib or two. Motherfucker. He pried his eyes open and checked for holes in his wickedly bruised torso, finding none. When his fingers grazed the section of his neck that felt like it was on fire, they were met with bandages most likely covering stitches and burns.
Draven’s second shot had grazed him there, sending a streak of lightning across his flesh that had made him pretty sure he was a goner.
Holy fuck. That had been a close one.
“Awake?” Jace asked quietly from behind him in the dim light of dusk or dawn, he had no idea which.
“Yeah.” He didn’t even try to roll over. That would have been too much effort, which meant he was probably under the influence of a painkiller or some sort of sedative. Who knew what Kennedy would have pumped into him to keep him comfortable.
Nolan hummed when Jace’s fingers ran through his hair, stroking it as he’d seen the other man do to Laurel’s when she roused from fitful slumber on the verge of a nightmare. He didn’t even give a shit that it probably looked like trash instead of his usual patented flip.