“Take him up there and find a dry spot,” she told Lewis and Booker. And to the others, she said, “Let’s make camp and start a fire. Looks like we’ll have plenty of time to dry out. We’re here until the weather clears.”
She followed the men carrying Kinkaid and helped break out his bedroll and a pad to insulate him from the wet ground. This deep into the cave was noticeably cooler, which would help bring down Kinkaid’s fever, but she’d need a fire to prevent the chills she knew would come. And although the area where they had him was cramped, she’d make it work.
“I’ll check him over to see what’s wrong. Set the rest of his gear up here,” she told Booker. “I have a feeling I’ll need to search for those pills he was taking.”
“You’ll need a fire up here, too,” Lewis offered. “I’ll take care of that once we get one going below.”
“Thanks, Hank.”
Before he left, Hank Lewis told her, “You were right to pull him off the trail when you did, but I admire the guy. He’s one fierce lunatic.”
“Yeah, he is. And it scares me to hear
When she was alone with Kinkaid, she switched on her flashlight again and set it on a rock ledge next to him, giving her a pale light to work under. She unzipped and unbuttoned his wet clothes, peeling them off layer by layer. Kinkaid was burning up. Heat radiated off his body. And he’d started to ramble and mutter nonsense with his eyes closed. He was already delirious.
When she got down to his T-shirt, she pulled out her knife and cut it off, the easiest way to remove the last wet layer. That was when she noticed the soggy bandage—soaked in blood, not rainwater. She peeled back the dressing to get a better look, then rolled him over to check his back. A bullet wound, and it had punched clean through.
“You crazy son of a bitch,” Alexa cursed. To control her anger, she called over her shoulder, “Hank, get me the first-aid kit. Our boy’s been shot.”
While she waited for fresh bandages, she tugged at his pack and rummaged through his stuff. She found his iPod in an unzipped pouch and tossed it aside as she reached into the bottom of a side pocket, looking for the pills she’d seen him swallow. When she found them, she held the container toward the light and recognized the medication.
“Antibiotics. You thought you could hide this?” She wanted to curse at the unconscious bastard, but a part of her understood what he’d done. He was a brave man, driven to do the right thing. And with innocent lives in the balance, he’d chosen to ignore the dangers to himself.
That didn’t excuse what he’d done. Kinkaid had lied to her. And worse—now he’d become a liability.
Hours later
Alexa jerked her head when she heard a sharp pop. She opened her eyes to see sparks from the fire spiraling into the roof of the cave. The sound had come from the crackling fire that burned nearby, the only defense from the chill of the cave. And the pale glow from two fire pits cast undulating shadows across the stone cavern.
Kinkaid was asleep next to her. She watched the rise and fall of his bare chest. His breathing was shallow, more like an agitated pant. When she reached over to place fingers to the side of his neck, she noticed his pulse was elevated. Not a good sign, but at least he was on the right side of the dirt for now. The meds she’d given him had allowed Kinkaid to sleep.
She had nodded off sitting up, too tired to care about her numb rear end and a rock jamming her back. Her men had traded standing watch and kept the fires stoked. The warmth of the fire and her exhaustion had caught up with her. And the steady drone of water in the cave and the rumbling of the storm made it real easy to fall asleep.
For much of the night, she’d been alone with her thoughts and old memories. A sane person wouldn’t be here, but Alexa was where she wanted to be. The adrenaline rush of a mission was addictive, and the real juice came from wielding justice. She was making a real difference in the world—her way and without all the hoopla that came with media attention. The last thing she wanted was the media or the law second-guessing what she did for the Sentinels. Not many people would understand. Then again, not many did what she was trained to do.
No wonder she didn’t have room in her life for a man who wasn’t connected to all this—a man like Garrett Wheeler or Jackson Kinkaid. No one else would understand or accept the life she lived. And no one else would live as much in the moment.
That made her interest in Seth Harper all the more intriguing. What had made her turn the corner to pursue someone like Harper, a guy who would be completely invested in any physical relationship with a woman? He’d have expectations and needs. And she’d feel guilty not giving him what he deserved and had a right to expect. What the hell did that say about her? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Alexa stretched and looked for a distraction to keep her awake. She saw the iPod pouch Kinkaid had brought with him on the ground near his pack. She’d tossed it there. It was too tempting to listen to his taste in music and find out why he’d brought it; but when she knelt over him to retrieve it, Kinkaid groaned and stirred.
She stowed the iPod in his gear and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. Kinkaid’s fever had gone down, but it was still there. And although getting him back on antibiotics had helped, the meds weren’t a permanent fix.
The damage had been done, and the infection would take its toll unless she got him to a hospital. Even then, it might be too late. His heart rate was elevated, and his breathing had turned shallow, even while he slept. Sepsis could turn severe and spread through his entire system and affect vital organs, causing irreparable damage.
Alexa poured water onto a torn section of Kinkaid’s T-shirt. She pressed the damp cloth across his brow and down his neck and chest. When his eyes blinked open, and it looked like he might stay awake, she reached across him to retrieve his meds.
“Hey,” he mumbled. “What h-happened?”
“You passed out,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Here, take this.” She raised his head and gave him water from his hydration pack to take with his pills. “When was the last time you took these?”
She held up the bottle of pills he had stashed in his pack. Kinkaid squinted at the label until she saw his recognition. Then he shifted his gaze and stared at her between sluggish blinks. Each time he closed them, she thought he’d go back to sleep. With his face silhouetted against the light of the fire, shadows made it hard for her to tell if he was still awake.
“I don’t remember,” he muttered. “Lost track.”
“This is pretty strong stuff, but not enough to knock out the infection you jump-started.” She narrowed her eyes. “What were you thinking?”
When he didn’t answer, she grabbed his chin to keep him alert and ventured a guess. “You didn’t trust us to get the job done. You couldn’t sit back and let someone else take care of your friend. Is this about playing hero for a woman?”
“What?” He raised his head and winced with pain before he collapsed back. “What are you talking about?”
“Kate. What’s she to you?”
“That’s not important,” he argued. “She’s a…friend.” Kinkaid wasn’t in a sharing mood. The fever had made him surly. And his bad attitude had yanked her trigger.
“Why couldn’t you let Garrett and my team handle this? You asked for our help. If you didn’t trust us to do the job, why did you call in the first place?”
Even though she kept her voice low to avoid waking up her men, her venomous delivery made her point clear. She wouldn’t put up with his macho attitude, not after he put her team and their mission at risk.
“I didn’t call Garrett. Joe did.” He tried to sit up again and grimaced with the pain. “Believe me. He’d be the last guy I’d call.”
Garrett had warned her that he and Kinkaid had a history, and he’d refused to let her in on the story. Something must have gone terribly wrong. And from the look on Kinkaid’s face, she wouldn’t be learning the truth anytime soon.
Did he love Kate, the woman he had risked his life for?
