danced in front of his eyes that had nothing to do with it being night. “I love you.” Then the blackness swallowed him whole.
* * *
Callie knew the moment he passed out. She wasn’t sure if it was because of the pressure she was putting on his still-healing ribs or because of blood loss, but she dearly hoped it was the former. As long as they didn’t puncture anything, broken ribs wouldn’t kill him. A gunshot wound surely would.
A car pulled up on the street near them. She cocked her head to the side, tracking its movement as it stopped and the doors opened. This was it. There was no escape for either of them. By her count, she only had five or six shots left, and to grab her gun, she’d have to take her hands off Teague’s wound. Since the fabric was already wet with his blood, she couldn’t afford to do that.
She closed her eyes. I don’t know if you’re listening, God. I’ve made a grand mess of this. But spare Teague. He never asked for any of this. A silly, foolish prayer.
“Callista Sheridan?”
She tensed. Of course they knew her name. That wasn’t as surprising as the fact that they were yelling at her instead of shooting first. But then, they’d want their entertainment, wouldn’t they? Couldn’t have that if she was dead.
“Ms. Sheridan, my name is John Finch. I’m with the FBI. You placed a call to my office earlier today.”
She blinked. There was no way the Hallorans could know that…but was it a risk she was willing to take? They could be lying, waiting for her to run out into the open and then gunning her down. She looked at Teague. It was hard to tell in the shadows, but he looked scarily pale. He needed a doctor, and quickly.
So she took a leap of faith. “I have an injured man here. He’s been shot.”
“We’re coming to you.” He hesitated. “Please try to resist shooting any of my men.”
She highly resented the amusement in his voice. There was nothing amusing about this situation. Nothing at all. “Get in here.”
The bushes parted and two men rushed to her. She tensed, waiting for the bullets to tear through her flesh, but they just shouldered her aside and knelt next to Teague. “Bullet wound to the upper chest. He’ll need surgery and an immediate transfusion.”
The other turned to her. “We have an ambulance en route.”
This turn of events was nearly impossible to wrap her head around. She’d hoped her contingency plan would work—God, of course she’d hoped—but it was still too good to be true. A third man appeared and offered her a hand. “If you’ll come with me, please?” He sighed when her gaze tracked back to Teague. “Mr. O’Malley will get the best medical care the government has to offer.”
That didn’t mean a damn thing if he died before they could get him to the hospital.
The man sighed again. “I can see there’ll be no talking to you until he’s off.” He turned around and disappeared through the bushes, leaving her to sit just out of reach while the other two men went to work on stabilizing Teague.
Sirens cut through the night. The silent night. She turned to look back at the Hallorans’ property. Where were the gunshots that had been peppering around them since Teague showed up? She frowned. “It’s not safe here.”
“It’s as safe as anywhere.” The paramedic spoke without looking at her. Or at least she hoped he was a paramedic. “We’ve secured the situation.”
They’d secured the situation.
She didn’t get a chance to ask more questions, because the sirens’ volume increased before abruptly shutting off. Red and white lights played along the fence line. The ambulance was here.
It happened so fast. Too fast. One second she was struggling to her feet, and the next they were shutting the doors between her and Teague and tearing off down the street. Callie stood on the sidewalk, staring after the ambulance. She was supposed to be there, with him.
“Now, we really do need to talk, Ms. Sheridan.”
Talk. This man wanted to talk when the life of the man she loved—her husband—hung in the balance. She realized she was still holding a gun and turned it on him. “I don’t think so.”
Finch’s eyebrows rose. “Do you really think it’s wise to add to your body count tonight?”
No, but there was no room for wisdom when Teague needed her. She didn’t lower the gun. “Please take me to