We All Sleep Alone (Finley Creek #11) - Calle J. Brookes Page 0,99

the road near a guardrail. Allen was trying to get to his gun when they shot at us. He was hit, and he fell. I tried to get the bleeding stopped, but I couldn’t. Now our van is making strange noises, and I think it’s got bullets in the engine somewhere. We can’t go much further. Allen hit his face when he fell down. I can’t fix this myself. I…we can’t go to the hospital. The truck, the men who shot him were in the ER parking lot. I need help, and I didn’t know where else to go, and we were headed to Brownsville and now…”

Izzie made herself calm down. She wouldn’t be able to be any help at all if she was panicking. She’d found help. Real help. That mattered. She knew how to handle herself in a medical emergency. She was a professional. The knowledge that it was the man she loved…now she understood. Now, she got it. “We have to hurry. I had to leave him. I hoped Mel was here. We saw her limo on the exit ramp today. I…we need help.”

He wrapped strong hands around her elbows and turned her to face him. Strong, sure, able to handle things in a crisis; he looked a great deal like his brother—the chief of the TSP.

They could trust Chance. Like they could his brother Elliot.

His presence was starting to help calm her down. Make her somewhat rational again. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“Let me make a phone call, ok? I’m going to have Terrence get you something to drink, ok?” He motioned to the concierge and said something to the older man. She found herself being led to a soft chair fifteen feet away.

She nodded.

Chance called upstairs quickly.

While they waited, she quickly explained what had happened. From the moment the abduction attempt had happened to Elliot and Rafe and Nikkie Jean smuggling her and Allen out. “They caught up with us today. I don’t know how bad the van is, and I need help for him. We need to get him help. He’s probably ok now, but he’s lost a lot of blood. There’s a chance of infection. I have antibiotics to give him, but if I treat him myself, something could go wrong. That’s a risk I’m not willing to take. I think the bullet fragmented.”

He put both hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. “I don’t know what it is you have stumbled into, Iz. You will be safe here. I can guarantee it. As for Jacobson—I owe him. More than that; I wouldn’t have Brynna if it wasn’t for him. I’m not going to let these sonsofbitches hurt him now when I have a chance to repay the man. What he did for Brynna that day…both days she was hurt. I’ll never be able to repay that.”

“Just…I need to hurry. He’s alone and they could find us. The van isn’t exactly unrecognizable, and it’s out in the open. With obvious damage from gunfire. Close to the police station.”

He looked past her shoulder. Izzie followed his gaze. She fought bursting into tears in an instant. She had never done that before in her life, and she wasn’t going to start now.

Chance’s brothers-in-law stood there. Two of them. Houghton, who had been known to move mountains when needed…and the real answer to her prayer.

“Rafe! Thank God!”

“Izzie,” her boss said. He cupped her cheek lightly, one finger going over the fresh wound. “I’m glad you’re ok, honey. We’ll take a look at this.”

“No. We have to get to Allen. Now. He’s hurt. He’s been shot again. I couldn’t risk taking him to the ER. They were waiting for us. I—”

“Let’s get him,” Houghton said, motioning to someone at her words. One of his guards—someone Izzie had even met before—came hustling up. Houghton gave instructions. “There is a car waiting.”

That was all it took. Chance, Rafe, and Houghton just fixed everything. Maybe it was weak of her, and decidedly un-heroine-like, but Izzie didn’t care.

She just wanted to make certain Allen was going to be ok.

82

His damned shoulder—same one Henedy had shot and Allen had injured working on the van—was on fire. Allen was half-convinced he was cursed or something.

The biggest issue was the headache he couldn’t shake. His damned jaw hurt like hell. He and Logan had been in a car accident once. Allen had slammed his head on the dash in the old truck they’d borrowed from Logan’s father to go way