Slay Bells Ring (An FBI Romance Thriller Book 12) (47 page)

“Absolutely.”

The second he was gone, she got to work. Pushing the other bed toward Callen, she placed it right beside him. Dropping the rail between them, she checked out the space. Now Ethan would have a place to take sentry. She was going to be right next to Callen on the opposite side.

When Ethan returned, she was already crawling into the hospital bed with Callen. As she tried to maneuver around the wires, Ethan came to help. Once she was tucked in, he hopped onto the other bed.

“We stay here until he wakes,” she stated.

He agreed.

They’d stay there for as long as it took.

For Callen.

And for love.

Chapter Fifteen

Saturday Afternoon

The bosses weren’t going to be thrilled.

The search of the abandoned house didn't turn anything up, but the team kept pushing forward, looking for anything that would help them find Bonnie and Clyde.

Anything at that point would be a good thing.

“We need to find something,” Johanna said, searching the list of people who were on there.

“Something will pop,” Brody reassured. “We have to stay focused.”

“Who do we have?”

He slid the paper across the table, and there were three names on it that had yet to take their booked trips.

Percy Warffe

Ray Wolf

Cooper Douglas

“If we start running them, maybe we can cut this killer off at the pass,” he offered.

She hoped so.

“Before we head back to the reservation, we should stop and check on the bosses. Maybe we can bring them some food. A stressed, cranky Elizabeth is a bad thing.”

Then again, it was more than that. They respected their bosses. They were a family under the badges they wore.

“I’m going to run the people we came in contact with. Can you handle the three left on the travel list?”

She nodded.

“Let’s find something.”

They really needed a miracle, or one hell of an early Christmas gift.

There had to be something.

It was just a matter of seeing it.

                 
* * *  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

Hospital

Saturday Evening

She didn't move the entire time. Even when the nurses would come in, giving her a dirty look, she’d hand one back, and then tap the gun on her hip.

If they thought she’d back down and vacate that bed, it wasn’t happening. When she’d been shot, Ethan curled around her body to keep her safe. When a crazed killer nearly blew her up, Callen did the same.

This was their thing.

When one of them was hurt, they didn't leave each other’s side. The serial killer would have to wait until Callen was awake. She didn't give a shit what happened other than in her other husband’s body.

She had priorities, and he was it.

As she lay there, she could hear the footsteps down the hall. It was definitely her father-in-law. He favored cowboy boots, even in the winter, just like she and Callen did.

From the frantic gait, she knew it had to be him.

When he appeared in the doorway, he looked like he’d aged about ten more years.

Didn't they all?

He immediately began muttering in his Native tongue, pulling off beads and a small satchel from around his neck.

“Help me get this over his head, Elizabeth,” he said, handing it to her.

Because of the tube down his throat, she had to loop it around his throat and through itself.

For now, it would have to do.

Immediately, Wyler placed his hands gently over his son’s chest and began praying.

Elizabeth recognized it.

It was the same one Timothy had used when Wyler had been shot. He spoke in the singsong voice of a wise old Native man, using a prayer the family had passed down.

When he finished, he leaned over her body to kiss Callen on the forehead.

“He’ll be okay,” he finally said, wiping the tears in his eyes.

They hoped he was right.

“How is he?”

Ethan told him.

“You can teach him to use his left hand,” he stated. “I know when I hunt, sometimes I have to switch off, depending on the angle. With practice, he’ll be fine. His career isn’t over. Not now. He’s stronger than this.”

They believed it.

When the machine beeped, they all glanced over.

“Oh, my poor son,” he said, running his hand up and down Callen’s covered leg. “I wish it could have been me instead.”

Didn't they all?

Ethan rolled his neck. “Callen’s tough. We’ll stay here until he wakes up.”

“You two look beat.”

Elizabeth laughed, trying not to move too much. Callen’s bad shoulder was right beside her, and she didn't want to hurt him. “Beat wouldn’t be the word. I’m getting to damn old for this shit.”

“How about I go downstairs and get you both some coffee. Maybe you should eat?” he offered.

“I’ll take the coffee, but I’m not eating until he opens those gorgeous eyes and looks at me. Then I’ll know he’s okay.”

“I’ll get you some coffee. It’s going to be a long night. I’ll be right back.”

When Wyler was gone, Elizabeth put her mouth beside his ear to whisper to him. “If you wake up for me, I’ll let you ravage the non-savage all you want,” she offered. “I’ll wear those dirty girl heels you love.”

She wanted to cry.

“Oh, Cal, my love, come back to me.”

Elizabeth closed her eyes and held onto his hand. For now, it was a waiting game.

                 
* * *  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

Two Hours Later

Callen felt like shit.

His head hurt, his throat was on fire, and his body…he was pretty sure someone had carved him up. There wasn’t a part of him that didn't feel like he’d been run through the ringer.

As he lay there, slowly pulling away from the haze of medication, he could hear her.

She was whispering in his ear, and that offered him peace. Elizabeth was beside him.

Now…if he could only remember what had happened to him. Callen could hear beeping, and some whooshing of a machine. As he tried to think back, he recalled bits and pieces.

There was Dakota Rakin.

The car.

Then a shot.

He recalled feeling it rock his body.

Callen remembered hitting the ground. The rest was pretty hazy. He should be fine. He was wearing his vest. He’d double plated and been ready for anything.

What the hell had happened?

Did he get run over by a truck full of explosives?

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. Without moving his head, he could see his brother sitting on a bed beside him. He was typing up an email, his hair loose around his face.

He looked stressed.

Glancing down, Elizabeth was resting beside him. She was holding his hand.

He went to talk.

Only, he couldn’t.

Immediately, she sat up, jostling the bed.

He moaned in pain.

“Oh, shit! Cal! Don’t talk! Ethan, get the nurse.”

Blackhawk rushed out, and she took his face in her hands.

“You’ve been shot, Cal. It went through your Kevlar. You lost a lot of blood and almost died. We’ll get the nurse in here to remove that tube.”

He blinked.

Had she said he’d been shot?

Using his free hand, he slid it up his body to the radiating pain in the right side of his chest. Callen could feel the bandages there.

Shit!

She wasn’t kidding.

His eyes went wide.

“Shhhh. It’s okay, handsome. You’re okay now. I promise.”

His head was foggy. When he glanced over, there was a nurse there.

“Mr. Whitefox, we’re going to remove the breathing tube. I need you to cough, and I’ll slide it out.”

He could do that.

She unhooked him from the machine and got ready.

“Cough.”

He did.

She pulled the tube out, and he started coughing more. The pain rocked through his body as he shook.

“Jesus!” he muttered. “What the hell did I get shot with? A cannon?”

The nurse took his vitals, and Elizabeth patiently waited. When she left, Elizabeth took his face in her hands. Slowly, she lowered her mouth to his. The second she kissed him, the panic ebbed away.

Callen drifted in it. He could feel the fear in her, and this was healing them both. When she set him free, he closed his eyes.

“I feel like shit.”

She stroked his cheek. “You should. Our killers used you as a target. They got their hands on some ‘cop killer’ bullets.”

Great.

That meant she was a target too.

Immediately, the heart monitor jumped, setting off the alarms.

The nurse rushed in to check on him.

“If you excite or agitate him, I’m going to make you leave.”

She glared at the woman. “If you try and make me, I’ll hurt you and you’ll be in a hospital bed. So back your ass out of here and stop telling me what to do. I get mean when I’m provoked.”

The woman gave her a dirty look but rushed away.

“Please be safe,” he whispered.

Ethan rounded the bed and stared down at his brother.

“Aren’t you going to kiss me too?” Callen asked, trying to help Elizabeth calm down. He could feel her vibrating beside him.

Ethan laughed for the first time in hours. “If you want a kiss like that, you’re definitely on some narcotics.”

Callen glanced up at him. “I should be.”

Leaning down, Ethan dropped a kiss to his brother’s forehead. “Cal, you’re going to be the death of us. That’s a call I never want to get again. Do you hear me?”

He was feeling less groggy, but the pain was picking up intensity.

“I don’t want to get shot again. It’s not fun. What did they damage?” he asked. “I can’t feel all of my fingers or arm. Is it asleep?”

Elizabeth feared this. When she was shot in the shoulder, she could still feel her fingers. This was more proof that Callen was going to lose some of the mobility in his arm.

She broke it to him the best she could. “They took out a major artery and the doctors had to replace it. You nearly bled to death. You’re badass, Mr. Whitefox.”

He stared at her. The room was fuzzy, but he could focus on her face. “My arm. What’s wrong with it, Elizabeth?”

“There’s damaged nerves.”

He didn't speak.

Callen knew what that meant.

“I’m done as a Fed, aren’t I?”

Tears filled his eyes. This was the end of his career, and he knew it. From the looks on both of their faces, it was evident.

“No, it’s not. We’re going to do therapy.  I’ll go with you every day, and we’ll get you stronger.”

Ethan added, “Even if you can’t go out in the field, you can still work in-house. I’ll find a position that’s the same as the one you have now.”

He closed his eyes.

“I want to sleep.”

Elizabeth gave him a soft kiss on his lips. He’d been through a lot. There was no point in pushing the issue. They’d talk later.

“We’ll be here when you wake up.”

He believed them.

“Okay.”

With that, he was gone back under.

“Well, shit,” she muttered. “Cowboy, we have to make sure he gets through this. We can’t have him give up.”

He was well aware.

“He can still mediate, but I’ll send him with an agent to watch his back. He’s not done in the FBI yet. I swear.”

She believed him.

They wouldn’t give up.

Not now.

Not ever.

                 
* * *  B l a c k h a w k - W h i t e f o x   * * *

Sunday

One A.M.

Their phones began chiming. It pulled everyone from sleep, even Callen. Old habits die hard. The man opened his eyes for the second time, and they were filled with pain.