Page 62 of Claimed By 3 Mountain Men

“Hank, keep talking to her,” I say. “Keep her awake.”

Hank nods, leaning over the table, his voice shaking as he talks to Mac, trying to keep her from slipping away. “Hey, Mac, just hang in there, okay? We’ve got you. We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

“What the hell was she doing out there so late anyway? Are you sure it was a trap?” Ben asks.

“I’ll show you the damn thing later,” I growl, my focus solely on Mac, noting her shallow breathing and pale face. I knew time was in short supply.

I work quickly, my fingers moving with precision as I clean the wound, and start to stitch the massive gash.

She cries out, almost lifting herself off the table.

Hank stops her, keeping her down.

“Ben, grab the antibiotics and pain meds out of the bathroom cabinet. Top shelf.”

“Hang in there,” Hank murmurs.

I finish securing the bandage and take a step back, assessing my work. The bleeding has stopped, and her leg is immobilized, but she’s still pale, her breathing too shallow. I grab one of the towels and start wiping the blood from her skin, trying to keep her clean, to keep her comfortable.

“JT…” Mac’s voice is barely more than a whisper, her eyes half-closed as she looks up at me.

“I’m here,” I say, leaning closer, my heart aching at the sight of her like this. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you,” she breathes, her hand reaching out, brushing against mine. I clasp her hand, holding it tight, grounding her, and myself.

“You’re safe now,” I whisper, my voice rough with emotion I can’t afford to feel right now. “You’re safe.”

“I feel…pretty stupid,” she says, tilting her head back.

Ben arrives with two yellow pill bottles and water.

“Take a few of these,” he says, handing the meds to her.

Mac obliges, swallowing a few pills with the water before she closes her eyes again.

“Come on. Let’s get her into bed.”

We carry her up to the master bedroom and lay her down on the large four-poster bed. Her eyes flicker open.

“I’ll be fine,” she mumbles, her words slurring together.

“Rest,” I say, gently tucking the blanket around her. My heart aches at the sight of her, so pale, and vulnerable. “You can thank us later,” I whisper.

She nods, her eyes drooping.

In the hallway, we wordlessly stare at each other, our expressions reminding me of a distorted circus mirror showing three different versions of the same man.

“What the fuck is going on?” Ben finally asks.

I exhale a shaky breath, my hand still shaking as I run a trembling hand through my hair.

“I don’t know,” I admit. “But we’re going to find out.”

“Show me the trap,” Hank growls.

“It’s back on the trails.” I look them both dead in the eyes. “Did either of you know she was going to be out here?”

They both shake their heads.

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