Page 83 of Desert Thorns

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“The punk will rot in prison for a long time.” Hulk Guy cocked his head at me. “You need medical attention?”

I shook my head. “No. But I’d like to see Kingsley. Is he okay?”

Gripping the straps of his body armor, Hulk Guy looked in that direction, then back at me. “He’s been asking for you.”

My stomach fluttered. “Does this mean he’s okay?”

“He went into shock but is now conscious and stable. Needs a trip to the hospital though.” He glanced at Rome. “I’d get the heck out of Dodge if I were you. Authorities will show up any second.”

Rome sniffed. “What about you guys? They’ll hang you for operating on US soil.”

“Let that be my problem.”

“I owe you, Rhyner.” The two shook hands, slapping each other’s backs. Then Rome turned to me. “Don’t be late for work tomorrow.”

I cracked a smile. “Never. Thank you for coming for us.”

“Haven’t had this much fun in a long time.” He gave me a wry smile. “Stay out of trouble, Harry.”

With that, he disappeared into the darkness of the jungle. Great, now he was calling me Harry, too. How much time had he spent with Bella?

“All right, let’s go see your lover boy.” Rhyner—was he Layne’s brother?—jerked his head at Kingsley.

I didn’t need to be told twice and jumped to my feet. I followed Rhyner past a covered body to where Kingsley lay prone on a stretcher. An emergency blanket was spread over his back. Another camo-clad guy knelt next to him. This had to be Wentworth, his older brother.

“Kingsley?” I squatted next to him and grasped the hand that didn’t have an IV in it. It was ice-cold.

His fingers curled around mine. “Sweetheart.” He lifted his head ever so slightly, a weak smile adorning his handsome face. Blood caked his short-shorn hair and beard. His smile fell. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Me?” I squeaked. “What about you?”

“There’s blood on your face and clothes.” He reached out, but dropped his arm with a groan.

“Blood?” I looked down at my T-shirt and jeans. Yes, blood. Was I bleeding?

“That’s not hers,” a guy who stood half turned away from us with a long rifle, said over his shoulder.

A sniper, was my guess. Had he shot the goon who’d been about to execute me?

“So you’re okay?” Kingsley asked, drawing my attention back to him.

I huffed a laugh. “Yes, I’m okay. What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine?” Rolling my eyes, I imitated his deep voice. “I almost died, but I’m fine.”

Kingsley chuckled, then groaned. “I’m fine because you are,” he gritted out.

Oh, how I loved this man. So much that I couldn’t voice my feelings for him. If only I could hug and kiss him right now.

“There’s so much I need to tell you.” His voice sounded drowsier with every word. They’d probably given him pain meds.

I ran my thumb over the back of his hand. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Okay, buddy.” Wentworth clamped Kingsley’s other arm. “Time to get you into the hands of an actual doctor. That back needs to be fixed ASAP. You’re not out of the woods yet. Chances of an infection are dangerously high out here.”

I never let go of Kingsley’s hand when Wentworth and Rhyner lifted the stretcher and carried him through the jungle to a dirt road. A Ford Raptor pulled up, and they loaded him into the bed. Kingsley’s hand had gone limp a while ago, but I wasn’t willing to let him go. So I settled in the truck bed next to him. Severalguys climbed into the cab, Wentworth staying in the back with us, and then we rolled down the bumpy road through the jungle.