Sharpshooter (Shadow Agents #3)(24)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“Get a medic!” Mercer barked; then he was running toward them. “What happened to her?”

The guards pulled Slade onto the elevator.

Gunner kept his tight hold on Sydney. “She passed out.” She’d been trying to reach for him. There had been confusion and fear in her eyes. She’d wanted him.

He hadn’t been able to get to her fast enough.

He pulled her closer, held her tighter.

Nothing could be wrong with Sydney.

As he stared down at her, desperate, Sydney’s eyelashes began to flutter.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered. Please. Because he needed to see that green gaze again. Needed to see her, without the fear in her eyes.

Slowly, her eyes opened. She stared up at him in surprised confusion. “Gun…ner? What’s happening?”

The medic was running down the hallway toward them.

He wanted to kiss her, wanted to bury his face in the soft curve of her throat.

But more than that…he wanted to find out what the hell had caused her to faint. What was wrong? He had to find out, and he had to make her better.

Because he could take torture, betrayal, any number of sins and punishments tossed against him, but he couldn’t take anything happening to Sydney.

Not. Her.

* * *

“I DON’T FAINT.” Sydney knew her words sounded angry, but she was angry.

And a little scared.

She was in the med room at the EOD. The doctor, a brunette with wire-framed glasses, was a woman whom Sydney actually considered a friend. So she figured she could just be blunt with Tina.

“I’ve been in combat zones. I’ve been shot. I’ve been under attack from all sides.” She was currently sitting on an exam table. “I have never fainted before.”

“Well, you did about twenty minutes ago.” Tina offered her a small smile. “So I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Sydney shook her head. “That wasn’t me.” She didn’t want to be weak. With everything going on with Slade and Gunner, she couldn’t afford any weakness.

“Sure it was.” Tina lifted her clipboard. “I know you like to think you’re pretty much Superwoman, but no one can be strong 24/7.” Her eyebrows arched. “Not even you.”

Sydney sucked in a deep breath. “I feel fine now.”

“Except for that shiner on your jaw? Want to tell me how you got it?”

Slade punched me. He went crazy. He was coming to hit me again, but Gunner stopped him.

“No? Okay…” Tina drew out the word. “Then let’s start focusing on what might have made you faint.” She put down the clipboard. “Have you sustained any head injuries lately?”

The back of her head was throbbing now. “I hit my head when I…fell.”

“You mean when Slade hit you.” Crisp, without any emotion.

“If you knew, then why’d you ask?”

“Because we’re friends, and I thought you might want to talk.” Her fingers were carefully sifting through Sydney’s hair searching for the injury. “A slight concussion could explain your fainting spell.” A pause. “At least this way, I don’t have to ask if you’re pregnant.”

Pregnant.

Sydney’s heart stopped. “What?”

Tina’s fingers carefully probed the bump on the back of Sydney’s head. “Pregnant. You know, as in, with child? That’s usually the reason most women get light-headed. It happens pretty early in term.”

Sydney caught Tina’s hand and pushed those probing fingers away, even as she frantically counted up the days in her mind.

“Uh, Sydney, why are you looking like that?”

She swiped her tongue across lips that were way too dry. “Can you test me here?”

Behind the lens of her glasses, Tina’s eyes widened, but she quickly schooled her expression. “Of course.” Then she hurried away only to return with a specimen container in her hand. But before she gave it to Sydney, she asked, quietly, “Are you okay?”

Sydney slid from the table. Took the container and didn’t answer her.

Five minutes later she had the results. Was she okay? Not exactly.

Tina stared at her, waiting. A friend, not a doctor.

She was pregnant.

Chapter Six

Sydney kept a small house just outside D.C. It was about a forty-five-minute drive, but the quiet privacy she received out there was well worth the trip.

Considering all that was happening with Slade, Mercer hadn’t wanted her to leave the area yet. No trip to Baton Rouge, no returning to her real home, not yet, anyway.

It had been three weeks since she found out about her pregnancy. Tina had done some additional testing and taken some blood samples, and she’d told Sydney that all seemed well. The changes in Sydney’s body were small. Some increased sensitivity in her br**sts, a little light-headedness in the mornings. Nothing too extreme so far.

And so far, only Tina knew about her condition.

She hadn’t told Gunner yet, because she didn’t know how he’d react.

The fact that he’d been avoiding her as if she were some kind of plague? Yes, well, that didn’t exactly make telling him any easier.

Sydney sat on her porch, staring at the setting sun. The sky was red and orange, the hues stretching for as far as she could see. Her fingers were lying over her stomach. Just…there.

A baby.

Her baby.

A vehicle’s engine growled, the sound too close. She tensed as her gaze darted toward the road. This was a dead-end street. Her house was on the end, and her only neighbors were out of town for a second honeymoon.

She wondered just who her visitor could be.

Then she saw Gunner’s truck, coming slowly but steadily toward her.

Sydney didn’t rise to her feet. Didn’t rush out toward him, the way she had done too many times in the past. She just kept swinging, nice and casual, and soon Gunner was in her driveway. He climbed out of the truck and headed toward her porch.

As he approached, he didn’t start speaking. Just stared at her with those dark eyes. What had made him come visit her? Had he finally decided that he just couldn’t live without her? Because she’d had that fantasy a time or twenty in the past two weeks.

She forced her hand away from her stomach. “Gunner, I—”

“Slade’s better.”

Sydney blinked. “That’s wonderful.” She’d called for updates but hadn’t learned much. The doctors had sequestered Slade during his treatment.

“They did an experimental therapy with him, to help push him through the worst of the withdrawal symptoms. Mercer says that while it won’t be one hundred percent, Slade should soon be more like the man we remembered.” He climbed onto the bottom porch step. The old wood squeaked beneath his boot. “He’s going to have to deal with PTSD, but he can get through this, Sydney. He can be the man we knew.”