“Right side. I thought it was a scratch, but now I’m thinking it’s a little more complicated than that.” As he finished his statement, Grant’s knees gave out.
“Get him inside,” Seth snapped.
They half-carried him through the kitchen to the living room, where Izzy hurried to cover the couch with a couple of old blankets. When she finished, the operatives laid Grant on his uninjured side.
Rayne dropped to her knees beside his head. “What happened?”
“The shooter was still in the area. Instead of just shooting me and being done with his game, he shot at Teagan.”
“Let me guess. You put yourself between the shooter and Teagan?”
“I tackled her. Just didn’t move fast enough to avoid being shot myself.”
“I’ll kick your backside later for that, but thanks for protecting my wife.” Seth wrapped his arms around Teagan and hugged her.
Grant looked at his sister. “Any news about Dad?”
“Not yet. We haven’t been able to go to the hospital to check on him because the detectives are questioning us about what happened. However, Gabe has been sending me messages. The doctor examined Dad in the ER and sent him to surgery within minutes of his arrival. So far, the most information he’s had is that the bullet did a lot of damage, and Dad is still alive.”
“You might find out more when you go to the hospital,” Teagan said. “Are the hospital and doctors good ones?”
Isabella stiffened. “It’s the best hospital in the area. No one has complained about it.”
“No offense meant,” she murmured. “I just wanted to know if they’re accustomed to treating trauma cases.”
“We have plenty of crime in the area if that’s what you’re referring to.”
The detective grunted. “We’re working on the crime stats. The most important thing to know is that the surgeon is top-flight. He moved here from New York City. Dr. Lipmann has a lot of experience in dealing with trauma. Your father couldn’t have a better surgeon working on him.”
Maybe. No one was better than the trauma surgeons employed by Fortress Security. They had been in hot zones in themilitary and with Fortress before retiring from active missions and using their skills to treat operatives and trauma victims once they were stateside.
The detectives stood nearby while the EMTs assessed Grant’s condition. Finally, the paramedic said to the detectives, “We need to transport Mr. Bowen to the hospital. You can ask your questions there after he’s been treated.”
The older detective scowled. “Time is critical.”
“Yeah? So is his health. Take it up with the ER doc.” With that, the two men lifted Grant onto the gurney and rushed him toward the ambulance.
Rayne followed. When they loaded Grant into the back of the vehicle, she said, “I’m going with you to the hospital. I can ride in the back or in the front, but I’m going.”
“Ma’am, that’s not standard policy,” the blond-haired EMT said.
“Today, it is. Someone who’s determined to kill him shot Grant. Everyone near him will be in danger. If I’m with him, I’ll be able to protect him and anyone else nearby.”
Blondie looked at her with doubt in his eyes. “What can you do?”
She smiled. “You’d be surprised. Look, I was a cop for ten years. I know what I’m doing, and we’re wasting time. Where am I going? Back or front?”
“Front,” the raven-haired man said. “Touch nothing. I’ll be in enough trouble as it is. I don’t want to add problems with the equipment because a civilian tinkered with stuff.”
“No tinkering,” Rayne promised. She hurried to the shotgun seat before anyone thought of another reason she couldn’t ride with them.
Blondie hopped into the back of the ambulance with Grant, and his partner shut the doors. Seconds later, the vehicle headed toward the hospital.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THE AMBULANCE SLOWEDto a stop at the ER minutes later, and soon the EMTs pushed the gurney bearing Rayne’s soon-to-be husband into an exam room. As soon as the EMTs left, Rayne threaded her fingers through Grant’s.
Medical personnel rushed into the room and began a quick assessment of his condition. A nurse glared at Rayne. “You shouldn’t be in here. The waiting room is down the hall.”