Page 334 of Secret Shifters Next Door

We crowded in behind the team working on Dad. A nurse started pulling the Velcro straps of the armor apart. She looked up, horrified. “Is this a bulletproof vest?”

“Just work on him,” Mike snapped.

“You need to leave,” a burly male nurse said.

“The fuck we do!” Sam said, pressing his chest into the nurse’s.

If Sam scared the nurse, the guy didn’t show it. He folded his arms across his chest. “Sir, let us work. Go to the waiting room. We’ll let you know how things go.”

“Come on,” I said, touching my uncle’s arm. “Let them do their job.”

Grudgingly, Sam and Mike escorted April and me to the waiting room. We sat and I stared at the walls, shell-shocked. April sat beside me, rubbing my back to console me. It filled me with guilt. Her mate was out there. God knew what was happening, yet she was here, comforting me.

Thirty minutes later, one of the doctors came out to update us. “Your father is heading up to the surgical floor. We stabilized him. The bullet passed through a lower rib and into the lung. It exited out his back. There’s damage to the lung and one of his kidneys. We won’t know the extent of the injuries until we operate.”

“Is he gonna make it?” Mike asked.

The doctor sighed. “It’s difficult to tell. There could be internal bleeding. A lot could go wrong. Blood clots, heart failure. I can’t give you an answer. We’ll let you know when the surgery is over.” With that, he turned and hurried back through the door that readNo entry.

I clamped my hands together. I was on the edge, ready to fall off the cliff.Stay calm, stay calm, it’s gonna be okay,I told myself. Sam and Mike looked pale and worried. I had to keep my head. If I thought the worst, I’d slide into the abyss.

“Help me!” The big bellowing voice exploded from the front door of the ER. I recognized the voice.

My head snapped up, my eyes wide with panic. Tate stood in the door, his clothes spattered with blood and the fists at his sides clamped so tight, his knuckles were white.

“We need help!”

A heavy boulder settled in my stomach. The look on his face was one of intense fear and horror.

April leaped to her feet. “Tate?”

Tate spun and saw April and me. His already-pale face went nearly gray as his eyes fell on me.

Doctors and nurses ran toward him. Behind Tate, Jared burst through the doors, Miles cradled in his arms. Miles, awake but hurt, was holding his leg and wincing. A belt was tied tightly around his thigh. Another wound oozed blood at his shoulder.

“Tate?” April called out, her voice brittle. “Where’s Steff?”

As an answer, Steff exploded through the doors. His face was red and blotchy, eyes bloodshot. Blayne lay limp over his shoulder. His arms and legs dangled like a marionette with its strings cut. My jaw dropped when I saw the bright red patch of blood on his shirt and the dark little hole right below his collarbone. As bad as that looked, the most horrifying thing was the knife buried in his side, the handle bobbing as Steff carried him.

“Please, God!” Steff screamed. “Help him! My brother! Help my brother!” He sounded like he was on the verge of madness.

I stood jerkily, my feet numb as I walked toward the scene. Nurses were calling for help, alarms were going off, orderlies were running with gurneys. Shouts, screams, and blood. So much blood.

My legs took me toward them. Steff’s eyes, searching the room frantically for help, saw me then. His look of shock gave way to sorrow, then his face crumpled. “Jesus Christ! Fuck! Tate! Get her out of here. Don’t let her see.”

Tate’s massive arms wrapped around me, his broad chest obscuring my sight of the scene. I let him push me away for a few seconds, then the dam that had been holding my emotions back shattered. I slammed my fists into Tate’s meaty chest. My small fists were ineffective against the giant of a man.

“Let me see him! Let me see him!”

“Ava, honey, no. You don’t want to see that.”

I hauled my arm back and slapped him, tears streaming down my face. The madness of grief consumed me over. “Why didn’t you protect him? Where were you? What were you doing?” I bellowed into his face as I slapped him again and again.

Tears sprang to his eyes and he shook his head in confusion. “I…we tried…it happened fast. He…he saved Steff’s life. I–I’m sorry.”

From behind Tate, a nurse called out. “Move! I lost the pulse. He’s coding. Get him back to the trauma room. Hurry.”

Tate turned to see them wheeling Blayne down the hallway. I was able to catch a glimpse of him as he went by. Blayne’s face was the color of wet ashes, his eyes half-open, only the whites showing. A small female nurse was straddling him as he rolled by, frantically pounding his chest.

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