to answer him.
“That’s what I thought.” Griff extends his hand. “Come. It’s time to go.”
My heart does a double-step the way that command rumbles in the back of his throat. There’s no hesitation on his part. Griff takes control in the blink of an eye, and I find myself following him out of the airplane, confused as hell and horribly turned on.
The man oozes a dark and terrifying sensuality kept under the tightest control. My fingers itch to peel him out of his clothes and explore his hard physique, but Griff being Griff, won’t let his damn moral compass be swayed by physical desire.
He’ll never take advantage of a rescuee.
Which means it’s up to me to take advantage of him.
Sixteen
Griff
I grit my teeth all the way down the airstairs as I lead Moira out. My team’s not back yet, not that it matters. Between Doc Summers and CJ, I’m officially on medical hold until further notice.
No more operating for me.
CJ’s not dumb. He knows I disobeyed a direct order. Granted, I had help, and Ariel taking responsibility for that decision is the only thing saving my ass right now. Failure to obey a direct order is grounds for immediate termination from the Guardians. Not that it mattered at the time. Not that I’d change one damn thing. There was no way in fucking hell I was leaving Moira in that pit.
“A word.” Doc Summers approaches me, pulling me up short. “Moira, do you mind waiting in the van?”
I release my hold on Moira’s arm and watch her gaze bounce between me and the doc.
“Sure.” Her meek reply comes as a surprise. I’m used to her fighting tooth and nail every damn step, but she’s smart. Or maybe it’s because the doc asked instead of me?
Once Moira’s safely out of earshot, the doc turns her hawkish glare on me. “I need you to understand something.”
I cut the doc off. “I know. Stay off the leg.”
“I’m serious about your leg.” Her eyes soften and she places a hand on my arm. “Look, I understand what you are, and how stubborn that makes you, but I need you to listen to me and really hear what I have to say.”
“I promise to be good.”
“No, Griff, I don’t think you get it.” She blows out her breath and comes at me from a different direction. “Your leg will heal, but only if you let it. I get you have this burning need to maintain peak Guardian proficiency, and that means working your body as hard as you can, but I’m here to tell you that if you do that, you’ll be crippled for life.”
“I got shot. It’s not a career-ending injury.”
“It shouldn’t be, but you’re pushing it. I don’t have time to tell you how the human vasculature works, except to say you’re on the verge of losing the main vein in your leg. Collateral vessels will form over time, but your leg will never be the same—if you continue to push it.”
“What are you saying?” My gut drops because what she’s saying terrifies me. I’m not ready to walk away from my job. “I thought it was just a simple stitch.”
“It was until you pulled out my handiwork. I did what I could on the plane. You deserve to have a vascular surgeon take a look at you, and I’m going to put that in my official recommendation. I know why you did what you did, and I know there’s nothing anyone could’ve said to you to not go after your girl. But she’s safe now, and you need to take a step back. Let your body heal. Stop pushing it.”
She runs a hand through her hair, smoothing down the flyaways. “I’m not one to overreact, and I never lie to my patients, but I’m not here to sugarcoat things either. Either you stay off that leg and let it heal, or you risk permanent damage. That will force you off the team. I need your word you’ll follow doctors’ orders.”
“How long?” I swallow against the thick lump in my throat. “How long will I be off the team?”
“Six to eight weeks, longer if you push it. I’ll schedule you to see a vascular surgeon and we’ll start physical therapy in a few days. No running. Nothing that puts stress on your leg. I need you to baby that leg, or…”
There’s no reason for her to finish that statement. I’ll be off the team if I don’t do as she says.
“Your word, Griff.”