Page 73 of Welker

Welker drew her hand away from her body and grasped it between his much warmer ones. Moira managed to look up into his eyes, which held a degree of worry she’d never seen in them before.

“You’re going to be fine, Moira. Do you understand me? You’re going to be fine,” he repeated, as if he could will it to be so.

Moira thought she nodded, but couldn’t be sure.

The dark night had started closing in around her until…

Ahh. Blessed relief.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Welker didn’t want to miss Moira waking up, but he felt like he’d been through the wringer since they’d gotten the call-out at two in the morning. It was now six in the evening, and he barely knew his own name. He wasn’t physically exhausted, but mentally he was completely out of steam.

The trek out of the woods, walking beside an unconscious Moira on that stretcher had been agony. He’d held onto her hand, tightly, hoping for a squeeze or a twitch, but her fingers had remained limp. His heart had cried out to any higher power that would listen, that he needed this woman. He didn’t know if he could live without her.

While he’d made promises to all the deities, there’d been an ambulance ride that had seemed like it had lasted forever; even though instead of the forty minutes it would normally take, the crew had stepped on it and made the trip in less than thirty.

Upon arrival at the hospital, they’d wheeled Moira in, and Welker had been denied access while the doctors assessed her. His team had needed to intervene and calm him down, because he’d been ready to tear the entire place down in order to go with her.

After what had seemed like another immeasurable amount of time, the doctors had sent word that they’d rushed Moira into surgery. All this was done via Alvero, who knew a lot of the staff and had been kept in the loop. He’d told Welker that Moira’s condition was serious, but the surgeons here were top notch.

Time had dragged on…and on…and on…

Sitting in recovery several angst-filled hours later, Welker held onto a still comatose Moira, with the knowledge that all her post-op reports had come back, and the surgery had, from the doctors’ standpoints, been a complete success.

As pumped as Welker was over that, it also had his adrenals taking a sudden nose-dive once he was allowed to be by her side, because he was beyond exhausted.

“You know you can go get some rest,” Mason told him, laying a hand on his shoulder from his position where he stood behind Welk.

That’s how out-of-it Welker was. He hadn’t even known the chief was there.

“Thanks, boss. But I’ll stay.” He tamped down a yawn. “The nurse said Moira should be coming around soon, and I want to be here for her.”

Mason stepped back and grinned. “Sooo… You love her, huh?”

Welker gave a tired chuckle. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?” he groaned. “Announcing it like that over the comms.”

“Nope,” Mason’s grin turned even toothier. “You’re going to get so much shit.”

“And that serves me right?” Welker raised a brow…or at least he thought he did.

“It sure does,” Mason concurred. “Not one of us forgets how much crap you gave us when we fell for our partners. So, expect a shit-load of razzing over the next few weeks.” Mase’s face actually sobered after that jab. “As well as a lot of help,” he added. “Don’t be a dope and try to do everything for Moira all by yourself once you get her home. You have fifty teammates at your disposal, and don’t you forget it.”

Welker closed his eyes, touched, and opened them to give Mason a tired smile. “I won’t, boss. And thank you. I know you won’t let me go it alone. And my mom, Callie, and Sabira have already come and gone to my place making a soft spot for Moira to land.” He took a second to marvel at what he’d been told by the doctors. “Can you believe with a surgery like hers, they’re only keeping Moira here for two days?”

“Insurance companies.” Mason rolled his eyes. “But on the plus side, healing at home is better for the psyche.”

“Whose? Mine, or Moira’s?” Welker joked.

“Ask me that again after you’ve spent a couple recovery-weeks at each other’s throats,” Mason quipped, then became serious. “Uh, Welk? As regards to the MC after Moira, I figured you might want to have an update. We actually got nothing out of the three perps you guys incapacitated, but they’ve been pretty smug about saying how they expect to be let off on all charges once they’re discharged from the hospital later today.”

“GSW’s not so debilitating, then?” He actually hadn’t aimed to kill, but sometimes shit happened.

“Grazes only,” Mason sighed.

Welker might be brain-dead as he pondered the perps’ assertions that Mason had relayed, but he wasn’t stupid. “They think someone with a higher authority is going to wipe their slates clean.”

“Yup. They do. Leading us to continue speculating that Moira’s sheriff’s department somehow has fingers in this pie,” Mason agreed. “And on that note, Hayden isn’t wasting any time. Considering the increased risk to Moira, she’s already stepped it up with a bigger gun; that guy named Tex with whom her group all interfaces regularly. She says he’s a master at digging up information on anyone, anywhere, so Tex has been doing a deep dive into Gladstone and Pickenstahl’s finances and current call-history.”

---