With Every Breath (Slow Burn #4) - Maya Banks Page 0,118

her and then Wade’s lips were on her forehead, pressing tenderly against her skin.

“Be still, baby. Try to stay still for me. I need you to hang on.” He was stroking upward over her forehead, smoothing her hair in a repetitive motion. “In here!” he yelled to some distant person.

She blinked but her eyelids felt so heavy. Wade grew fuzzier and she felt cold. He looked at her with such torture in his eyes.

“Why did you take a bullet meant for me?” he asked brokenly.

She smiled faintly and struggled to respond, battling against the lure of unconsciousness. She licked her lips, trying to rid herself of the odd slickness slithering over her tongue. She couldn’t breathe right, and she wasn’t sure she could respond to his question, but it was too important. He had to know.

“Because I love you and if you died, it would destroy me, kill me anyway. You’re a good man, Wade. The very best. I thought I’d learned what love was. I saw it. It was beautiful. Worth dying for. But you taught me how to love and be loved. It’s all I’ve ever wanted and you gave that to me.”

Her voice became fainter, more somber as she drifted further and further away. A sense of peace settled over her, the most wonderful feeling she’d ever experienced. She smiled, tears sliding hotly down her temples.

“I’m free,” she whispered. “I’m finally free.”

“Eliza!”

The world faded rapidly as more faces pushed in, one barking orders while another pressed on her chest. The last image that registered was of Wade roaring at her not to leave him and of Dane and Zack physically restraining Wade as he tried to lunge for her.

TWENTY-SEVEN

WADE stood in the surgical waiting room, staring broodingly out the window, Eliza’s blood still bright on his clothing, his hands. His team and hers were assembled, all tensely waiting for word. He could feel the weight of Dane’s stare, but there was no judgment, only worry and grief.

He glanced at the rest of her team from his periphery, and they were little better. Their expressions were drawn tight, hopelessness evident in their posture and stance.

Eliza had been in surgery for hours. She’d coded as the EMS personnel had arrived and were attempting to stabilize her. They’d left performing CPR in a load-and-go situation. That had been the last time Wade had seen her.

Eyes closed, lifeless, after saying she was finally free.

Grief welled within him once more and he curled his fingers into tight fists. If only he’d gotten there a few minutes earlier. If only Eliza hadn’t thrown herself in front of him to take the bullet meant for him.

Never had anyone cared enough about him to put themselves between him and death. No one had ever loved him until Eliza, and God, he couldn’t lose her now. He cursed the time wasted, the time he had spent fighting the inevitable. She’d barreled into his life, upending his carefully ordered existence, and for the first time in a lifetime he’d felt alive. And now she lay on an operating table fighting for her life. Because she’d saved his.

Don’t leave me, Eliza. Fight, baby. Please fight. I can’t live without you. Please don’t leave me alone.

He bowed his head, emotion knotting his chest and throat until he couldn’t breathe. All he could see and hear was Eliza screaming no and then launching herself in front of him just as Thomas had fired. Her body jerking, then him shooting Thomas and Eliza sagging to the floor in a pool of blood. He’d never forget that sight. Never get it out of his mind. For the rest of his life, that image would haunt his dreams. He only prayed that she would be lying in bed next to him so when he woke she was there, alive, whole, loving him.

The phones of Beau and Zack went off every half hour. Their wives, demanding updates, sick with worry for Eliza. Caleb, the only DSS member to remain behind, had also been a constant caller, his furious voice audible in the quiet waiting room.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t stand here while a surgeon came out and told them that Eliza hadn’t made it. That they’d been unable to save her. He wouldn’t survive it. He wouldn’t want to survive it.

She was his. Had been his since that very first day. He should have staked his claim earlier, made it evident to her that she belonged to him. It had been obvious to