Page 65 of Grissom
“Grissom?” she asked breathily, her eyes glazed, not focused, still not seeing him. Her pupils were so big, the black squeezing out the green. She was going into shock.
“I’m here, right here,” he answered. Ripping his t-shirt over his head, he used it to cushion her head before he laid her flat on the concrete.
“I’ve got her,” Maverick cut in. His trusty blow-out kit, first-aid for combat trauma in a molle bag, was already open, its insides spread across Tuesday’s abdomen.
“Thanks, sure, yeah,” Grissom answered automatically, his brain spinning with all the terrible ways this damned day might still end.
Lifting her shirt, Maverick tipped forward on his knees and applied a healthy dose of powdered Quik-Clot to that ugly wound, then followed up with a thick layer of hemostatic dressing. “Keep her talking,” he ordered, pressing his big hand firmly over her wound, “while I get her stable. Medics are nearly here. Give her something to live for until they show.”
Sick to death that he was breathing the scent of her into his heart for the last time, Grissom lowered his lips to Tuesday’s ear and said, “Tanner and Luke love you, and right now they’re scared you’re going to leave them. It’s Christmas Day, and you’re the best present they’ve ever had. You’re their mother, damn it. You can’t leave them, you can’t!”
“Easy,” Maverick murmured.
“You don’t understand,” Grissom bit out. “I can’t lose her.”
“Then tell her that, man. Be honest but gentle. Wake up and smell the roses before it’s too late.” Whatever that meant. Grissom didn’t know Cowboy’s story, only knew those stormy blue eyes of his were earnest as fuck.
Alex squatted beside them, his cell still in his hand. “She needs you, Griss. Tell her that for starters.”
But does she?Could a woman of the world, one so damned beautiful that it hurt to look at her sometimes—especially when she’d smiled at him like she thought he hung the moon—truly need a guy like him? He’d believed so until she’d vanished out ofhis house like she had. Before she’d run away. But now, Grissom wasn’t so sure.
Nonetheless, he pressed his lips to her forehead and commanded her to, “Breathe, Tuesday. Breathe for Tanner and Luke, and for the lost little girl who’s been running away from life ever since she lost her mom and dad. Yes, life’s hard as fuck sometimes, but you damned well better breathe for me, too, because I am not letting you go. Hear me? Not ever. Man up, girlfriend. Marry me and decide who you—just you—want to be for a change. Stop doing what you’re told. Stop taking the easy way out. Stop hiding and breathe, damn it!”
Maverick might’ve been the one who growled, but it was hard to tell since both apex predators at his side did a lot of growling. All Grissom had eyes for was Tuesday’s chest lifting with her first full inhale since Moreno let her fall. “That’s my girl. Breathe, just breathe,” Grissom purred, so damned proud of her for being brave enough to try. “That’s all you’ve got to do. Just breathe and let me take care of everything else. Just breathe.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ooomph!“Miss Tuesday!” Tanner cried as a big, warm hand that couldn’t possibly belong to a child his size cupped her cheek. “I found her! Dad, I found her!”
Am I dreaming?
“Tanner? No,” she murmured, not believing what she was seeing. Tanner and his dad, leaning over her? Kneeling beside her? Where’d they come from? This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. They shouldn’t have left Luke, not just to find her. He might be dying. “No, no, no. You guys should be with Luke,” she wheezed, her heart beating unreasonably hard in her ribcage. “Go. Please. He’s important, not me. Go. Leave me. Just—”
“Shut up and breathe! I’m not leaving you!”
Wow. That’s harsh. Doesn’t sound like Tanner, either.
Tuesday didn’t get to finish what most needed to be said, when Grissom’s warm, wet mouth clamped over hers and he started breathing for her. Breathing life and warmth into her. Hot tears rained over her cheeks with each forced inhale. But they weren’t her tears. They were Grissom’s. Maybe Tanner’s too. It was hard to know for sure…
Someone else had her arm tucked under his. Easing back from Grissom, she turned to the earnest, dark-haired man on his knees beside her. Whoever he was, he had a bag of fluid tucked up high under his other arm, and he’d just inserted a needle into the underside of her wrist.
“Don’t worry, ma’am, me, Grissom, and Maverick gotcha. Everything’s gonna be okay.” But then he turned and yelled, “Medic! Over here, please hurry!”
Sure didn’t sound like everything was going to be okay…
“You’re hurting her, Eric. Take it easy,” Grissom snapped.
Oh, Eric. That’s who he is.
“All I’ve got’s saline, brother, but it’s not enough. She’s lost too much blood, and EMTs don’t carry it. We’ve got to move fast or we’re going to lose her.”
You’re going to lose me? I’m dying? Oh, yeah.The people she loved most needed to live in peace.So I ran off and—
A bluster of gruff, hurried orders and quicker reactions overrode her best-laid plans that now felt like mistakes.
With one manly swoop, Grissom lifted her up, while other hands—so many other hands—helped him hoist her away from the cold embrace of this concrete tomb. Then she was floating on air. Grissom was there and, as much as she wished he hadn’t found her, Tuesday was relieved he had.
Every other man in her life had left her behind, in one way or the other. Unwillingly, maybe, but gone was still gone, and she’d been so darned lonely most of her adult life. But this—THIS—was love. In action. Jolting action, maybe. Harshly spoken, yes. But so welcome. Tears flowed like rain at the tender way these warriors handled her. At the deadly urgency in Grissom’s voice when he ordered, “Don’t hurt her!”
