Mine to Hold (Mine #3)(62)
Author: Cynthia Eden

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 f**king 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.