Page 85 of Love Me Knot

My ass is planted in a wheelchair in Caleb’s room, with Chelsea perched on my lap and her head on my shoulder. She’s wearing one of my t-shirts and sweats since her clothes were ruined. Her graze is stitched up, and bandages cover the scratches on her middle from the glass.

Our bosses are here, leaning against one wall, while Fish, Hawk, Devil, and Bandaid take up another. Caleb is still out and hooked up to half a dozen monitors.

Fentanyl. Those paintballs were dosed with liquid fentanyl. That shit absorbs through the skin fast. Chelsea was dosed through her hands when Colonel Bart Ames coated her doorknob with the stuff suspended in petroleum jelly. Caleb, Captain, and I were shot with the dosed rounds. Caleb will be fine. I’m still waiting on news about Captain.

“What have you guys learned about Ames?” I ask the crew, whispering to keep from waking Chelsea.

“The guy had a kid brother in the service,” Commander O’Reilly answers. “Brent Ames was killed in Iraq in 2009. A private military firm was contracted to provide security for several US bases. The firm subcontracted another company for guard work which used Ugandans and South Africans. These subs were paid pennies on the dollar and not trained for the work. There was an attack on a group of soldiers returning to one of the bases. The cheap substitutes bailed, and several men were killed. Ames has had it in for the PMCs ever since.”

“I can’t say I blame him, but the guy should have known there are assholes everywhere. By his reasoning of a few bad apples, every industry in the world should be taken out.”

Caleb’s door shoves open, and a blur of blond hair rushes into the room. “Caleb!”

Shelby bends and weeps over our son, and the men in the room quietly duck out. Knot raises his brows and points to Chelsea. I shake my head, wanting him to let her remain where she is.

I roll my chair forward, careful not to wake my woman.

“How is he? What happened?” Shelby asks, not looking up.

“Everything points to him being alright. He’s just sleeping off the effects of the drug.”

Caleb’s mother finally looks toward me, her eyes widening at the sleeping woman in my lap. I worry for a moment what her reaction will be, but then she surprises me. “About time.”

Chelsea stirs and lifts her head. Noticing the strange woman in the room isn’t hospital staff, she clambers off my lap, rubbing her eyes. “Um. Sorry.”

I grab her hand to keep her from fleeing. “Chelsea, this is Caleb’s mother, Shelby.”

“Chelsea’s a badass,” we hear spoken from the bed.

Three faces swing toward my son, whose eyes are open half-lidded. Shelby grasps one of Caleb’s hands in both of hers, bringing it to her cheek.

Caleb’s voice is heavy with sleep when he speaks again. “That was fucked up. I was afraid to walk in and find you two doing naked shit in the living room. I knew something was wrong when Captain was acting freaked out but seeing a gun to Chelsea’s head? That was fucked up. The guy said he was going to kill me and pin it on her. She told me to run, so I did. Then the asshole shoots me, and I wake up here, decidedly not dead.”

Shelby shakes her head, dislodging the tears filling her eyes. “What happened tonight? Why was this man after you all?”

“The why doesn’t matter. What does is that Chelsea saved all of us. The man is dead, and our bosses will make sure he doesn’t have any trigger-happy friends waiting in the wings.”

Shelby walks toward us, prompting Chelsea to take a step back. Caleb’s mother throws her arms around my woman, squeezing her tightly. “Thank you for saving my son.”

Chelsea remains still and speechless until Shelby releases her to return to Caleb’s side. Overwhelmed by the gesture, Chelsea says, “I think I’ll give you guys a minute.”

I don’t want Chelsea to go, but I have to let her. Just not before I say, “Please don’t go far. I need you here with me.”

Chelsea’s face relaxes, and she nods. When she opens the door to step out, I notice the quiet Tyler “Hawk” Morgan standing guard in the hallway.

I watch Shelby with our son, no longer seeing the man in the bed but the ten-year-old boy recovering from appendicitis surgery. Caleb has drifted to sleep again, and Shelby turns puffy eyes toward me. “He’ll be alright, won’t he?”

“Yes. The concentration was high enough to incapacitate but not harm. The man wanted all traces of the drug to metabolize before killing us.”

Caleb’s mother shudders, and more tears run free. “Shit. I’m sorry, Shell. We’re fine. We’ll be fine.”

Shelby sniffles and lets go of Caleb’s hand to sit on the sole chair in the room. “Who is she?”

Knowing to whom Shelby is referring, I say, “Her name is Chelsea. She’s a former Marine who works for the Knot Corporation.”

Shelby’s eyes widen, reminding me about the shit Harding has been spreading on the news about PMCs. “They’re not what you’ve been led to believe. The man Chelsea killed tonight was killing troops and framing private military. Everything you’ve heard was part of his effort to bring down these companies.”

“Why?”

---