Holy shit. Chairs scraped on the concrete and screams sounded out as he held his weapon with both his hands. As Henry stepped into focus, he fired again.
Henry reciprocated, and another bullet penetrated his lower body. More rounds emptied and his gun was knocked clear out of his hand. He leaned on the gray pillar as blood poured from several wounds, his focus on staying alive. “Charlie…foxtrot.”
He sounded the alarm. He needed assistance. That man out there was a fucking stranger. There was no way the meek Henry he knew was that good a marksman. He staggered, putting all his weight on his side in an effort to remain standing. The impact to his leg wouldn’t let him walk far, and as he adjusted his weight to his left leg, he tried to limp. But taking a step forward, pain shot through his thigh and torso. Jake dropped to the ground as the world around him started to fade. Blood poured through his white linen shirt, and his leg burned like shit as he wiped his mouth to keep focused.
“Charlie…foxtrot!” he yelled into his headset. He was a dead man. Jake blinked. The restaurant was now clear of the Padre and his woman, but where was the traitorous bastard? It had been a setup from start to finish. One he didn’t think he would come back from. His vision blurred, and he knew he was losing blood. Fuck, how ironic. First Sparkles, now me. If that fucking vampire appears, I will shoot myself.
From beginning to end, this assignment seemed to be cut-and-dried. Jake stared up at the blue sky. The sounds faded around him as his heart ramped up speed, trying to save his life. He shifted to reach for his handgun, stretching as far as he could until his fingers touched cold metal. What a clusterfuck. He had trusted Henry, that fucking bastard. A shadow fell over him, blocking out the sun. He blinked but made out the man’s face clear enough. Henry—back to finish the job. Jake pushed to stand up, but the man pressed his foot on his chest, forcing him down.
“Fucking stay down. There’s no other way.” Henry aimed his gun right at his head, and fired. Bullets emptied into the ground as he lost consciousness.
Warm hands roamed over his arm and thigh, his body reacting swiftly to the sensual ministrations, but he needed the gentle touches to move lower to where he ached the most right now. The murmuring around him pushed for him to open his eyes, but he didn’t want to; he just wanted to lie here in his dream for a moment longer.
“Jake Meadows, it’s time to wake up. The doc says you’re healing well, and my magic hands are working wonders on your thigh and deltoids.”
“Meadows, enough is enough. My wife has had her hands all over your slimy body since you arrived. Now wake the fuck up.”
What had started as an erotic dream with soft hands roaming over his skin morphed into a nightmare at the bark of his boss. Jake knew the sweet female voice, and groaned as warm hands smoothed over his upper right arm. Yes, that feels wonderful, princess; keep doing that just a little longer. He peeked through half-open eyelids and smiled at the group of faces honed in on him. Two pretty women, and one intense and broody dude giving him a murderous look. Drayton. Jake licked his lips and the blonde beauty, his princess, lifted a plastic beaker to his mouth, which he sipped. Water, but its taste bliss.
“Is this heaven?” he asked, smiling.
Drayton closed in, giving him a smile. The doctor swam into view, blocking out Ella and Marcus as she leaned over him and hoisted his body forward unaided to plump his pillows.
“There, that’s better. Now don’t try to move too much until I know for sure you’re not in any discomfort. I have an infusion set up pumping you full of drugs, but as Ella healed your wounds, I have been reducing the amount you receive. How are you feeling?”
Wow. The doctor wasn’t wearing her normal glasses, and her cheeks flushed a pretty rosy pink. Her huge eyes studied him directly and with such intensity, he grabbed her chin and pulled her closer, landing a kiss on her irresistible cupid-bow lips. What provoked him, he didn’t know, but jeez, he was fucking alive, and if his hard-on was anything to go by, in anything but pain. He kissed her gently, and she kissed him back, but with an intensity that made him hold on one moment longer as the taste of strawberries lingered. After a moment or two, she shrugged out of his clasp, coughed and backed far enough away that he couldn’t reel her in again. Not that he would—right now—but he studied her flushed cheeks and the way she tried to smooth her wavy hair, and knew attraction when he saw it. She looked flustered, but in a good way. The icy-cool doctor melted in his embrace. Interesting. Wow, and if his thudding heart was anything to go by, so did he.
Jake rubbed his lips together, tasting her lip gloss. “Strawberry?”
She looked at him before the others, and shrank further away from the bed. “Well, it seems you are doing just fine. I’m going to reduce the morphine. Perhaps you’ve had too much.”
Jake smirked and refocused his vision on his boss.
“I’m relieved you’re back in the land of the living,” Drayton said.
“Henry is a fucking traitor. That bastard stood right over me, and shot me.”
Drayton placed one hand on his hip and rubbed his beard as his eyes rolled to the left.
Jake twisted and held his chest as pain ripped through his muscles. Standing out of his line of vision—Ben Steel.
“Steel. You look good, sir.”
When he had left for Mauritius, he knew Steel was recovering and
