Page 5 of Man of Honor

He didn’t respond, just turned his face away and stared out the window.Baptist Memorial loomed ahead of us, squat and grimy beneath the harsh glow of a neon sign.Three squad cars were parked in the lot, but I passed them and pulled directly into the emergency bay.I couldn’t blame Gage for hating this place; it was stretched thin like every other service in Devil’s Garden: underfunded, overcrowded, and falling apart at the seams.

Before I’d even killed the engine, Gage was out of the car and moving toward a tech in bright blue scrubs.He was the one who settled the girl onto the gurney, trailing behind them as they wheeled her into a treatment room.

The emergency department was a mess of anxious faces and restless bodies.Gurneys lined the overflowing hallway, and the nurses’ station buzzed with barely contained chaos.Beside the front desk, an addict nodded off in a plastic chair, cuffed to the armrests and flanked by two bored-looking security officers.

I gave them a nod as I passed, but my focus was all Gage.Under the harsh fluorescent lights, his complexion was almost gray.His face was strained, and there was a strange hitch in his stride that I hadn't noticed earlier.He hesitated just outside the exam room, glanced at the room number, and then turned to make a break for the exit.

I cut my debrief with the charge nurse short and followed, catching up to him just as he busted through an empty stairwell.

“Where do you think you’re going?” I demanded, catching him by the bicep and hauling him back a step.

Gage gasped and stiffened, curling one arm protectively around his torso.He tried to shrug me off, and I allowed it so I wouldn't hurt him more.Instead, I stepped in front of him, blocking his path with my body and forcing him to stop.

“I’m not finished with you,” I said, gruffer and angrier than I'd planned.“You need to get checked out.”

He scoffed, avoiding my eyes.“Nah. Those guys were kittens.I just need some sleep."

I'd never had much patience for games.Tucking a knuckle under his chin, I forced him to lift his head and look at me.Temper flickered in those gray eyes.We were standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.One step closer, and I’d have him backed against the wall.My groin tightened at the idea.

“You’re going to let a doctor examine you,” I said, slow and clear, enunciating every word, “or I’ll book you for stealing that truck, cuff you to the bed, and make sure you get treated.”

Gage jerked his chin out of my grasp and glared.“You’re bluffing.”

I let a smirk curl my lips. “Try me.”

He gave me a look that could peel paint, but the moment he twitched, I tightened my grip.He froze, muscles locked in a state of readiness, braced for a fight we both knew he couldn’t win.Now that I had him under the lights, I could see the damage he’d taken.He was scraped, bruised, and filthy.Exhaustion drooped his shoulders, and he looked like he was straining totake a full breath.He’d push back out of sheer stubbornness, but I wasn’t giving him a choice.Gage didn’t need my protection anymore, but hell if that stopped me from wanting to give it.

“You’re really gonna do this?” he growled.“After everything?”

I didn’t answer; I didn’t have to.The metallic snap of the cuffs opening spoke for me.

“Turn around,” I said quietly.

Gage stared at me incredulously.His eyes were flashing with anger—and something worse.Something that brought me back to the night he’d tried to seduce me, the night I’d shut him down harder than I ever intended.The night he stopped looking at me like his hero.

My throat felt dry, but I didn’t look away.

We stood there, locked in a silent standoff.

Then,slowly, almost mockingly, he turned.His movements were stiff and deliberate, like he was daring me to go through with it.I closed the cuffs around his wrists, mindful not to aggravate his injuries by pulling them tootight.His shoulders were practically vibrating withtension.He was furious, but he’d get overit.This wasn’t the worst thing between us, not by a longshot.

“I warned you,” I said, keeping my voicelow.“I don’tbluff.”

Satisfaction settled in my chest as I pressed a hand between his shoulder blades and propelled himforward.

I’d let him run away once. I wasn’t about to let it happenagain.

Chapter Three

GAGE

My wrist was raw,but that didn’t stop me from yanking at the handcuffs that trapped me to the rail of my hospital bed.No way out unless I dismantled the bed itself.Given the right tools, I could probably pull it off, but not with Wyatt watching my every move.

There he was, arms crossed, one shoulder propped against the wall.Tall, dark, and smug as hell, with that damn uniform tight in all the right places.His shoulders were broad enough to fireman-carry the Empire State Building, and he'd rolled his sleeves just enough to show off the corded muscle of his forearms.I was no slouch, but I didn't doubt for a second that Wyatt could take me without breaking a sweat—in every sense of the word.

He hadn't made a sound since the doctor walked in, but he didn't need to.Wyatt's quiet authority had the whole staff on edge.Even the doc kept sneaking nervous glances over his coke-bottle glasses, like he thought Wyatt was waiting to grade his technique.Not that I blamed him. If I had Wyatt looming over me like that, I'd be sweating bullets, too.

Wyatt's expression gave nothing away, but those eyes?I didn't like the look of them.They were too alert and too possessive.Like he thought he had some kind of claim on me.Years ago, I would've folded if he so much as blinked at me the right way, but that was a long time ago.

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