Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Moving him? What does that mean?
“Clothes,” Gage said, reaching blindly for the wardrobe. “Grab me something.”
Roz’s heavy footsteps ate up the hardwood floor before he heard doors sliding on a track, hangers scraping metal and fabrics rustled.
“What the…? Why is ninety-nine percent of this shit white?” Roz muttered. “This is like…winter couture, man.”
“I don’t care,” Gage snapped, pulse racing. “Just give me something.”
Roz pressed some clothes into his hands, and he made quick work of shoving on the fleece-lined joggers and pullover. He didn’t bother with socks, just jammed his feet into his shoes and ran toward the front door.
Rose was there waiting.
“Gage.” She used the same unhurried, warm, professional voice from earlier. “If you’d like, I can take you to Scar right now.”
Do I want to face Scar again?
The question barely formed before his answer was out.
“Yes,” he said, reaching for Roz’s forearm. “Take me to him.”
It wasn’t a request.
The air was cooler in the hallway and even colder in the elevator, but he was overheating with anticipation of feeling Scar’s intense presence.
“What time is it?” he asked.
“Three forty-two,” she answered.
When the doors opened, the world exploded in sound. Harsh, urgent voices snapping orders and barking questions.
“BP’s good. Sedative’s still holding.”
“How long has he been out?”
“Almost two hours.”
“His airway is clear but I want O2 levels and heart rhythm monitored for the next six hours.”
Jo’s voice rose above the rest, cutting through the chaos. “I want a full report, Meridian. Every step. Every choice. Now.”
Gage’s heart knocked hard.
Each word they spoke made his stomach twist.
“G, slow down,” Roz said.
He didn’t.
Gage let go of Roz’s arm and bolted toward the rush of noise, arms outstretched. Shapes brushed past him and air sifted through his hands. Someone called his name and told him to wait, but he ignored it.
His knees hit something solid that was about waist high. Pain flashed up his leg, as he braced himself, hands pressing down on thin mattress padding between metal railing.
A gurney.
He reached out and hit an ice cold boot, flinching in response.
He hated how his hands began to shake as he dragged them up a denim-clad shin, to the ridge of a knee cap. He kept going, squeezing a thigh that felt as if it’d been carved out of stone.
“Scar,” he breathed, fear surging. “Scar!”
Hands brushed against his arm, trying to guide him back.
“Sir—”
He jerked away, shoving wildly at the bodies crowding the stretcher.
“Don’t touch him,” he snapped.
“Gage.” Jo’s voice was close and edged with command. “He’s not hurt. He’s sedated.”
“Why?” he barked in her direction. “It couldn’t’ve been by choice.”
His fingers found Scar’s chest, broad and solid, rising in slow, even breaths. He slid them higher, searching until he reached his warm throat.
Scar’s pulse was strong and steady.
He exhaled shakily but didn’t let his anger go.
“What did you do? You said we were safe here.”
A new voice answered. Deep and unnerving. The kind of calm that came from men who exuded so much fear they no longer needed to raise their voice.
“He wouldn’t stop running. And I wasn’t interested in a ten-mile foot chase through across South Chicago.”
Gage scowled in the direction of that voice. “So you treated him like a rabid animal.”
“It was a mild tranquilizer,” he said boredly. “He’s fine.”
Gage squeezed Scar’s shoulder, shaking him gently.
“Hey,” he croaked, fear lacing his voice. “Scar. Scar, wake up. It’s me.”
Nothing. Scar’s body stayed heavy and unresponsive.
“Corvo,” Jo called over the scuffing of movement. “Report.”
“The sedative dose was approved,” another man answered from somewhere to Gage’s left. “Vitals were stable all the way in. No signs of distress or reaction. He’s just out.”
“Gage, I told Meridian to bring Scar in without being harmed. But Scar was putting up a serious fight, so I understand his use of the sedative.” Jo said, her breath brushing across Gage’s chin. “His gang was hunting him, we needed to get him out of Chicago fast. When he wakes up, if he doesn’t want to stay, he can go. Just like you can. No one here is captive.”
The gurney jerked and started moving again.
“Where are you taking him?” he demanded, tightening his grip on the rail.
“To the medical wing for monitoring,” a woman said in a clipped, distant tone. “It’s standard protocol after field extraction—”
“Over my dead body.” Gage planted his feet, bringing the gurney to a hard stop.
“You’re welcome to stay beside him the whole time,” Jo said.
“Right,” Gage bit out. “When I can’t see what you’re doing to him.”
“You won’t be alone, Gage.”
He recognized Valor’s growly voice. “Roz can stay with you. Zorion will also be inside, and I’ll stand outside the door. No one gets in without your say-so. Not even Jo. You have my word.”
Gage hesitated as Scar’s pulse thumped steadily under his fingertips.
“Fine,” he muttered. “But if anyone tries anything, I’m done being polite.”
“Understood,” Jo said quietly. “Dr. Jules, take them to med bay C.”