Page 63 of Out of Sight

“I don’t need you to read me my rights, I need you to arrest him,” she nodded her head back toward Antonio. “He’s the psycho. He’s been trying to kill us!”

A couple of the cops laughed with each other.

“It’s alright, honey,” I called to her. “We’ll get everything sorted out. You’re gonna be fine. Trust me.”

She turned her head toward my voice, meeting my eyes again. She looked scared, but I saw that that fearful uncertainty in her face morphing into panic.

She shouldered her way out of her escort’s grip and ran back to me.

“Will!” She only got my name out before she screamed, throwing herself in front of me and collapsing in my arms.

“What the-” I couldn't understand what was going on. There was blood everywhere. Where did it come from?

Some of the cops were shouting and I saw a scuffle out of the corner of my eye, but somehow Claire was bleeding. Claire was…shot?

My eyes darted up, but Antonio was already on his stomach, hands secured behind his back. He picked up the gun and shot her? Why didn’t one of the cops confiscate the damn weapon when they made Claire drop it?

The corners of my vision went fuzzy as my rage blinded me.

Suddenly I was back eight years in time, walking into the living room and seeing Brady Michaels standing over Kaylie’s limp body, knuckles bruised and bleeding, a smirk on his face. Claire whimpered in pain and it sounded so much like Kaylie as she lay prone on the floor, struggling to breathe.

I wanted to walk over there and stomp on Antonio’s stupid fucking face until that disgusting grin was permanently disfigured. I wanted to take the gun and shoot him in the back to see how he liked it. I wanted to take my fists and beat the shit out of him until he bled just as much as Claire was, until his gasping breath sounded more desperate, until he was hurting ten times as much as my girl ever did.

I failed someone I was supposed to protect. Someone else was dying because I wasn’t good enough. Again.

“Will.” Her voice was surprisingly fierce. “I’m still here. I’m not Kaylie. I’m here and I’ll be okay. So calm the hell downbefore you get yourself arrested and you have to start building your life up from scratch again.”

She had a gun shot wound and she was still thinking of me, still understanding and trying to stop me from doing something stupid. I struggled to fight down the violent rage so I could focus on putting pressure on her wound.

She gave an exasperated sigh, looking exhausted. “I’m injured, but I’m not going to die or leave you in some way if that’s what you’re worried about. You have to let the police take care of him so we can still take the Morelli brothers down. You can’t do that if you go back to jail for assault. So just settle down already. Please.”

Her words mirrored our conversation in the San Francisco police precinct the first time we officially met, but it was thepleasedid me in. I released a shuddering breath and the tension left my body.

“I love you,” I whispered. Was her skin always so pale or was she losing too much blood? “I was supposed to protect you.”

“You did protect me. But I had to protect you, too. You’ve done everything to take care of me all this time, but now you get to be Rose on the door and I’ll be Jack in the water.” She tried to smile, but it wasn’t funny. Jack died.

“Did anyone call an ambulance yet?” I screamed, looking around me. There were some nods. “Can someone take these fucking cuffs off her?”

One of the cops hurried over with his keys, freeing Claire’s wrists. I saw a big chopper pass overhead, the thundering of the propellers growing louder as it hovered overhead, landing nearby. I didn’t care if they used a road ambulance or sent amedevac, as long as Claire was taken to a hospital. But a second glance at the helicopter surprised me since it didn’t have some generic hospital name on it; this was an official U.S. Air Force medical chopper sent to our rescue, landing in the grass just a short distance away.

Claire’s eyes were growing heavier, but she was still with me, still awake.

“I think I’m hallucinating from the pain because that looks a lot like my dad,” she murmured, nodding to the man emerging from the helicopter.

I looked over my shoulder, but I’d never met the Colonel so I had no idea what to tell her. All I could do was plead for her to stay with me.

“Hold on, honey,” I begged her. “Please don’t leave me…”

She was going to make it.

The surgeons took pity on me—or maybe it was just the intimidating influence of Colonel Reynolds—and came out to give me updates every so often. They said she did really good in surgery and they were able to repair all the damage with minimal complications. I would have preferred no complications whatsoever, but they were all finished up and Claire was rolled into recovery. She was expected to heal up just fine.

The business card Jim gave to Claire to call if things went wrong was long gone, so I made a call to the only other person I could think of: Agent Lucas Blake with the FBI.

I mean, obviously I didn’t have his personal number, but I got the cops to call the local FBI headquarters, who called his local FBI field office in California, who got in contact with the man himself, who hopped on a flight up to Portland to confirm that we were who we said we were.

It took a while, but at least it kept my mind occupied while the doctors were fixing up Claire.

---