Page 157 of Love Me Reckless

A female security agent enters the room. “Ms. St. Claire?”

“We’re over here!” she says.

The female agent walks around the bed to where I’m still holding Kirilee on the floor, her gun raised and ready.

“We’re not armed,” I say again.

“Move away from her and spread your hands and legs on the floor,” the officer says to me.

I do as I’m told, and another guard kneels behind me to frisk me. “He’s clear.”

“We need to get you out of here,” the female agent says to Kirilee while the other agent wrenches my arms behind my back and cuffs me.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Kirilee cries out as the female agent helps her to her feet. “He’s not a danger.”

“This is for your safety,” the female agent says.

“It’s okay,” I tell Kirilee over the radio chatter and shouts coming from where Shel went down because the sooner we get out of this room, the sooner I’ll be able to hold her again.

I’m yanked to my feet just as Zach leans through the doorway. He and I lock eyes for an instant before we both turn our attention to Sheldon sprawled on the floor near the bathroom entrance. He’s flanked by Agent Fisher and the first agent, who is compressing a wound on his chest with a towel that is soaked with blood. More of it pools in the space between his arm and his rib cage. He’s breathing fast and his face is pale.

Kirilee is being led from the room, her protests sharp in my ears. The agent with me hurries me along, but my eyes stay locked on my brother. Panic fills me. He’s hurt. There’s so much blood.

Outside the room, a pair of medics hurry down the hall, one carrying a large kit and the other a collapsable stretcher. My head pounds and the lights feel too bright.

The medics brush past us. I twist from my agent’s grasp to watch them slip into the bedroom, but the agent jerks on my arm, pulling me along. Reluctantly, I let him lead me into the living room. The glass doorwhere I entered the house is still open and the room is icy cold. The tall safe door is still ajar and the couch cushion rests where I found it in the middle of the floor, the evidence of violence that hardened my resolve.

Everyone is talking at once. Zach’s voice rises above it all, urging them to let me loose.

“Let me go to him,” I beg, feeling helpless. “Please.”

“Medics coming through!” The two men in blue uniforms carry Shel from the bedroom. His still body is strapped to the stretcher, with a bag of IV fluid tucked in next to him.

“Shel!” I cry just as my cuffs come free.

“Go,” Zach barks in my ear.

I hurry down the stairs and chase after the medics who are halfway through the front door. Outside, the hum of an approaching helicopter fills the air.

This is all happening so fast.

When I finally catch up with the medics, I reach for Shel’s hand. It’s cold, sending a chill up my arm. “I’m here, brother.”

His face twists in agony. He sucks in a sob. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Shel.”

“I just… wanted to start…” His breath catches. “…fresh.”

He’s so pale.

“…like you.”

The medics lower Sheldon to the grass. I fall to my knees alongside him, ignoring the helicopter swooping closer.

“It’s not too late!” I shout over the grind of the chopper. “Stay with me and I’ll help you.”

“That night…” He huffs a series of breaths, his teeth bared against the pain. “…Wes wanted to take her away.”

---