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The double doors opened with a loud clunk. A nurse appeared and called out, “Anton? Artyom?”

“That’s us,” Ten said.

“This way.” She flicked her fingers and stepped aside to let them pass through the controlled doors. As soon as they were on the other side, she shut the doors, and the automatic locks engaged. He didn’t want to think about why they needed that level of security back here.

“Artyom?” She glanced at them to see who was who. When Artyom raised a hand, she said, “You’re in Trauma 3.” She turned her gaze. “You must be Anton?”

“Yeah.”

“Exam 4.” She pointed out the room on the other side of the bay.

“Thanks.”

He parted ways with Artyom and strode to Nisha’s room. He knocked before entering, just in case she was undressed, and entered as soon as he heard her voice. He quickly shut the door behind him and took in the scene. Nisha reclined on the exam table with her foot elevated on a pillow. She had a trauma dressing on her left calf, and it was soaked with blood.

Actually, everything she wore was soaked with blood. Her shirt. Her skirt. Her face. Her hands. There was blood everywhere.

“Savvy’s,” she said as if reading his mind. “She wouldn’t stop bleeding, Ten. I think she’s going to die.”

“No, baby, she’s not to die.” He didn’t know that, but he couldn’t bring himself to confirm her worst fears. From the amount of blood that had transferred to her body, Ten wouldn’t be surprised if Savannah did lose her life.

“It’s all my fault,” Nisha sobbed, and his heart shattered. He crossed the space between them and gathered her into his arms. She was sweat-slicked and damp, and she smelled of blood. He squeezed her tightly, pushing all the love he had for her into his embrace. She shuddered against his chest, sobbing loudly as the guilt of her friends’ injuries overwhelmed her.

“It’s not your fault, Nisha.” He kissed her temple. “It’s not your fault.”

She said something, but he couldn’t understand her. She was crying so hard he worried she was going to throw up. He hadn’t heard anyone weep like this ever. It was like it came right from the bottom of her soul, just ripping through her heart and pouring out of her in agonizing waves. She clutched at him, her nails biting into his shoulder and arm, and soaked his shirt with her tears.

When the nurse and doctor entered the room, he shifted aside but kept one of her hands trapped in his. She still sobbed but quieter now, more controlled. He soothingly rubbed her back as the doctor and nurse peeled away the dressing to reveal a series of gashes in her leg. They irrigated and sutured the wounds and ordered a tetanus vaccine, just in case.

Nisha seemed completely out of it by the time her discharge papers arrived. She clung to his hand, and he worried about her mental well-being. She already carried so much guilt and shame over the crimes Kiki had committed. If she lost a friend because of Kiki’s escape, she would never forgive herself.

There was a knock at the exam room door, and Ten answered it. A Texas Ranger and sheriff’s deputy stood on the other side. He swallowed the urge to tell them both to fuck off. He warily stepped aside and let them enter. Nisha flinched at the sight of them, but then she lifted her chin and pushed back her shoulders. She wiped her face with the tips of her fingers and prepared to meet their questions head-on.

She was so torn up inside, consumed by fear that she would lose her friends and the guilt that she had been the cause of their pain. She had a crazy ex-husband on the loose, and now some lunatic taking shots at her. The police were going to make her life very uncomfortable, but she wasn’t backing down or slinking away.

She was facing the ugliest possible outcome with a brave face.

And he’d never been prouder of her.

Chapter Eleven

Wrungout,Icurledup on my side on Ten’s couch. Wilford was perched on the back of it. Every now and then, I would feel his fluffy tail swat my shoulder. He seemed to understand I was feeling poorly and anxious and kept close by. He wasn’t quite an emotional support animal. He had too much dignity to ever deign to be a servant to his owner. Still, he was there when I needed him, and I appreciated it.

I appreciated Ten even more. Right now, he bustled around his kitchen making dinner for us. He had promised, after all, when asking me out on a date yesterday.

Yesterday. Lord Almighty, why did yesterday seem like it was weeks ago? How was it possible that so much had happened in the space of thirty hours or so?

“Do you want to eat at the table or are you more comfortable on the couch?” Ten appeared in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. He had a dish towel slung over one shoulder and looked impossibly sexy in his bare feet, jeans, and Markovic MMA gym tee.

“The table.” I shifted, and Ten immediately moved toward me. He was at my side faster than I had expected, and his burly arms lifted me into a sitting position. “Ten, I can sit up and walk.”

“I know you can.” That didn’t stop him from helping me stand and then sliding his arm around my waist to guide me to the table at the far end of his kitchen. I didn’t bother with the crutches they had given me at the ER and hobbled along at his side.

I was taken aback by the tablescape he had prepared. There were candles and short glass vases of roses in the strangest toffee shade. He had the most beautiful stoneware plates and champagne gold flatware. “Anton!”

“I know it’s not a very romantic night. Not with everything that happened,” he said gently. “But I still wanted it to be special for us. If nothing else, I hope you can forget about all the stress that’s eating away at you long enough to enjoy a meal with me.”

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear away the tears making my vision all blurry. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him. “Oh, Anton, you’re the most wonderful man.”

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