Bad Men - Piper Stone Page 0,84
man, speaking softly in Spanish, I blanked out whatever they were saying. “Jack. It’s going to be all right. I’m going to take care of you.”
“They do have some medical supplies, but my guess is they are limited,” Diego said as he eased down beside me. “How can I help you?”
“We need to remove his shirt carefully.”
“That I can handle.” As he produced a glorified Swiss army knife, I held my breath. From what I could tell, the bullet had gone clean through, which was good. While the loss of blood was significant, at least the position indicated it had missed his heart.
But not by much.
When Jack’s shirt was completely removed, I studied the entrance wound. What concerned me was if the bullet nicked his lung. “Where the hell are the items? I need to get this cleaned so I can see what I’m dealing with.”
“He’s coming, Lindsey. Take a deep breath. We’re going home.”
“How long is the damn flight?” I snapped. “Shit. I’m sorry. I’m just really worried about him.”
He placed his hand on my arm, squeezing. “I know you are. Jack’s a tough guy. He’ll make it. The flight will take a little over seven hours.”
“Seven fucking hours. He needs fluid and possibly blood. Even if he survives, it may be too late if the bullet hit any major arteries or if there are fragments left inside.”
I heard a few words in Spanish before the man who’d saved us dropped a small bag by my side.
“This should be what you need, Doctor,” the man said in English.
“Thank you. Water?” I looked up at him, seeing enough concern in his eyes to allow me to take a deep breath.
“I’ll get that for you,” he answered.
“Do what you need to do. I’m going to check with the pilot. Then I’ll be right back.”
After receiving the water, I took my time cleaning the wound. From the trajectory, it was apparent more damage had been done as the bullet exited. Very gingerly I turned him over, pressing my hand against his face. He was clammy, his breath still shallow but his pulse was strong.
“Just stay with me, Jack. I don’t want to lose you. Not now. Not when we might…” The words trailed off, tears forming in my eyes. I had difficulty stopping them from falling, several pushing past my lashes.
“You ain’t gonna… lose me, Doctor.” While Jack’s words were stilted, almost inaudible, his waning smile gave me hope.
“Good, because I would be one pissed-off doctor. Now, it’s time for you to do what I say. I’m going to do what I can with limited supplies, but the main thing for you to do is to remain as immobile as possible. Do you think you can do that?”
When he reached for my hand, every cell in my body burst into flames. Just as it had the entire few days. Just like when he fisted my hair, yanking me against his massive chest. Only this time, I could tell he was making certain I understood the real man inside.
“Stop talking,” I instructed as I searched through the box of basic first aid supplies. There was almost nothing that I could use. The best I could hope for was containing the bleeding.
“You need… to… listen to me. Teresa.”
I shifted my gaze toward his face even as I tended to the exit wound. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes… it does.” His voice was suddenly strong, his eyes never wavering. “They killed her.”
“Who? Who killed her?”
“The assignment.” He took several gasping breaths, still able to squeeze my hand but I could tell he was fading.
“What are you talking about? This handler you’ve mentioned? Is he the one responsible for destroying your world?” A wave of anger rushed into me, my hands shaking. I could tell he was going into shock, although the rough and tumble man was doing everything that he could to fight it.
Swallowing hard, he attempted to shake his head, wincing. “I couldn’t… save her. They found her. They knew she mattered. Get. Away. From. Me. Forget that you… know me.”
I cupped his face, putting a small amount of pressure on his skin. “That’s never going to happen.”
His smile waned, his eyes glassing over. “I’m not a good man. But I do… love you.”
Love.
The single word was more jarring than anything he’d said to me. While I fully understood that he was delusional, I took small comfort in the beautiful sentiment, if only to keep me hopeful that I could save his life.
As his body relaxed,