Elicit (Eagle Elite #4)(9)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“Not. The. Time.” Sweat poured down Chase’s face.

I winced. “Sorry, been there, lived through that.” As carefully as I could, I pushed against the skin surrounding the wound. “Yeah, it’s lodged in there pretty good. From the looks of it, shooter probably used a rifle, possibly an MK12.”

“Son of a bitch, that hurts.” Chase leaned heavier onto Nixon.

I tried not to smile, but it was the best damn part of my day seeing someone else get shot. Not because I wanted Chase to die but because I could at least focus on something other than Mo and the fact that Sergio had touched her in a way that was too familiar, as if he’d touched her in that way before—repeatedly.

“We’ll let you know what we find.” The officer patted Nixon on the shoulder and walked back into the room.

“Well.” I sighed looking around at the guys. “Clearly we don’t know how to do normal weddings.”

Everyone fell into comfortable laughter as we walked out of the building. The girls were probably halfway home by now and freaking out if I knew them at all.

“Nixon!” The same officer came running down the stairs, his chest heaving. “The papers…” He bent over and blew out a gutful of air. “The ones signed by the Judge…”

“Yes?” Nixon said impatiently.

“They’re fake.” He handed them over to us. “I’ll make copies and send them through the usual associates but, the wedding today? It wasn’t real.”

My mind whirled with possibilities. Was the Judge in someone’s pocket other than ours? How the hell did that happen in our own city?

“Thanks.” Nixon nodded. “Once we have the papers, we’ll take it from there, understand?”

“Yes sir, of course sir. I’ll let the Chief know.”

“Well.” Nixon cursed and kicked the wheel of his Range Rover. “Will life ever be boring?”

“Bleeding.” Chase panted. “In case you guys were, oh I don’t know, worried? Concerned? I mean, right flesh wound considering almost dying a few weeks ago, I got it, but it burns like hell and I really, really need to make sure Mil isn’t at the house ripping the curtains from the windows in a shitstorm of emotion because you sent her away, Nixon.”

At that Nixon laughed. “When is Mil not pissed, Chase?”

Chase smirked. “Don’t you worry about that.”

“Disgusting,” I muttered.

“Says the soon-to-be father.” Nixon said dryly.

I glared in Sergio’s direction and answered, “Right. Soon-to-be… father.”

If he was bluffing about anything he didn’t have any tells. Instead, he simply met my stare with one of his own.

One that told me.

I wasn’t getting shit.

CHAPTER TEN

Dogs can smell fear… so can people.

Mo

MY HANDS WOULDN’T stop shaking. I blamed it on the shooting. Since when have I ever been terrified of getting shot at? Never. I’d been around this life since as far back as I could remember.

Funny, how it wasn’t the violence that caused me to tremble.

But him.

I wanted wine so badly it wasn’t even funny. Irritated, I followed the girls into the kitchen and waited for the guys to get home.

It was a tie between who I wanted to strangle first. Mil was stringing so many curses together it was hard to decipher if she was upset at the situation or at Chase. Trace spent her time soothing Mil while giving me the, “Are you okay?” eyes.

After about ten minutes the doors burst open, and the guys barreled in. Chase stumbled a bit as Tex helped him into one of the chairs.

My husband, God it still sounded wrong, ran out of the room to grab our kit while Nixon tore the rest of Chase’s shirt away from his body.

“Mil.” Chase clenched his teeth. “I’m fine!”

“You bastard!” She punched him in his good arm. “Stop taking bullets!”

“Right.” Chase snorted and lifted his head to the ceiling, closing his eyes. “Because it was a choice!”

“Well!” Mil huffed. “Damn it, Chase, just try not to get shot every two weeks. It’s irritating as hell!”

“You’re irritating as hell!” he fired back.

“Good one, must be losing your touch with all that blood loss.”

“Mil,” he warned, then his eyes flashed as her breathing increased.

“Could you guys not eye screw each other right now?” Nixon swore and ran his fingers through his messy hair. “It’s going to be hard enough to get Chase to sit still Mil, so if you could stop making it so that he wants to do you on the kitchen table, we’d all really appreciate that.”

Mil flushed and crossed her arms over her chest. “Sorry.”

“No you aren’t.” Chase leaned forward and winked

She licked her lips.

I groaned into my hands. The last thing I needed was to see how ridiculously happy they were.

“Whoa!” Tex walked back into the room. “I leave and things get more tense?” He snorted and put his hands on his hips. “That’s a first.”

“Everyone!” Nixon held up his hands. “One thing at a time. Tex, keep your head out of your ass, pull the bullet out while I deal with the fake marriage contracts and murder. Sergio, can you—”

“I’ll sew him up.” Sergio nodded. “Just another one of my many talents.” He winked at Trace and Mil. “I’m really good with my hands.” He turned his head slightly, briefly making eye contact with me before going over to the kitchen sink and turning on the water to wash up.

The girls’ mouths dropped open.

“Oh please,” Chase grumbled, sweat starting to pour down his face, most likely from the pain.

“Tex,” Sergio ordered, his voice slightly accented, which I knew from experience happened only when he was under stress and not paying attention to his annunciation. “Could you grab the scalpel?”

“I hate this part.” Chase squeezed his eyes shut.

Mil gripped his arm.

Nixon was pacing back and forth, yelling into his phone, but all I was focused on was Sergio as he very carefully made an incision next to the wound and began working.

He was an artist.

Since when had he become a surgeon?

“I’m older than you guys,” he answered without looking up. “In case you haven’t noticed that my balls actually descended.”

Tex rolled his eyes.