Page 49 of Warrior's Cross

“If we’re attempting to make ourselves look second-rate then why not simply lob a bottle of flaming vodka at his car and run away?” Preston asked in a flat voice.

“Because with my luck, we’d actually kill the bastard,” Julian answered grimly. He checked his weapon, a hot automatic he’d bought off a jittery man in the back of a stolen van several nights before.

Anything they could do with this job to make it look amateur, they had done. “Ready?” he asked his companion.

“Yes, sir, by all means,” Preston drawled as he pulled a black ski mask over his head. “Let’s go get shot at.”

Cameron stuck his thumb in the book and closed it as he reached out to pick up the glass of ice water and take a careful swallow. He set it down with a wince and let his head fall back against the raised mattress behind him, surprised at how tired even that simple action made him.

He felt better even though he was still weak, and his chest still hurt so badly. Miri had come by to catch him up on what was going on at the restaurant and with the dogs. He caught her looking at him funny a few times, but she never said anything. He was too tired to try to figure out why. She’d brought him a few books, a top-secret ramekin of crème brûlée from the pastry chef, and a promise to visit again very soon.

So he’d slept and then slept some more. He’d read a little bit and even managed to get some food down since the nurses wanted to take out the IV line sooner rather than later. Hegrimaced. It just hurt so much to swallow. He sighed and looked out the window at the cityscape, his mind wandering.

When he turned his attention back to the room, Julian’s large shadow darkened the doorway. Cameron’s breath caught, and he swallowed on the cough that threatened. “Hey,” he managed to rasp.

“Hello,” Julian returned as he cocked his head in familiar fashion and looked around the room warily. His cheekbone was badly scuffed, and his eyes appeared shadowed and dark. He looked exhausted. “How are you?” he asked.

“A little better,” Cameron said in his ruin of a voice. He peered at Julian, seeing the marks on his face and the slump of his broad shoulders. “Are you okay?” He gestured to his own eye to echo what he saw on Julian.

“Better now,” Julian answered quietly as he moved into the room, a slight limp slowing him. He didn’t otherwise outwardly acknowledge the purpose of the question.

Cameron didn’t move. He simply tracked Julian’s movement with his eyes and frowned slightly. Julian was hurt; that much was obvious.

“Better?” He sounded like he didn’t quite believe him.

“Seeing you,” Julian clarified. “I worried for you.”

The corner of Cameron’s mouth quirked up. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Didn’t exactly plan on getting sick.”

Julian shook his head as he took Cameron’s hand and sat on the edge of the bed. “When do you get to go home?”

Cameron curled his fingers through Julian’s. “Couple days, maybe,” he said. “Nurse says I’m doing good.” He swallowed hard, but had to cough. It was still a hacking, painful sound.

Julian scowled and nodded, looking around the room again. “I see you’ve had visitors,” he observed.

Cameron’s free fingers brushed over the book. “Blake came by this morning. And Miri too.”

“She may well have saved you,” Julian informed him.

“She got me here?” Cameron asked, not remembering much of anything from the past couple days.

Julian looked down at the floor sadly and then up at Cameron with a weak smile. “In a way.”

Cameron shook his head slightly. “In a way? She did or didn’t. Don’t remember, but I thought I was carried.” He looked at Julian speculatively. “Miri couldn’t do that.”

“No,” Julian agreed readily.

Cameron turned his head against the pillow so he could see Julian better. “You can,” he whispered.

Julian leaned forward, letting his thumb slide against the inside of Cameron’s wrist. “I can,” he confirmed.

“You did. Carried me down,” Cameron said in broken sentences to save his throat. “Oh God, Julian, what if you fell?”

“Then I’d have called an ambulance,” Julian responded calmly. “And cried.”

Cameron sighed, trying not to laugh. His eyes didn’t waver from Julian’s face. “My hero,” he rasped.

“At your service,” Julian murmured with a hint of a smile, though it was tempered by the worry in his dark eyes as he stared down at their linked fingers. He looked up at Cameron and met his eyes. “I’ve not been that terrified in quite some time,” he whispered, unashamed.

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