Page 133 of Nanny for the SEALs

My knees gave out against my will. Fortunately, six arms—five, I guess, since Asher was wounded—were there to catch me.

And then I turned to the side and vomited all over the interstate asphalt.

“Adrenaline crash,” Rogan said.

“You see this bruise on the side of her head?” Brady asked. “I fucken told you we shouldn’t have put her in this position…”

“She might be concussed,” Asher said. Then, louder: “Over here! We need the ambulance here!”

The world spun and I couldn’t seem to make my eyes focus. Everything was blurry and distant. It was like beingverydrunk. I can’t really explain it.

Rogan scooped me up and carried me to the ambulance, which was on the opposite shoulder of the road. The paramedics took my blood pressure and shined a flashlight in my eyes, then recommended they bring me in for more testing. Something about a subdural hematoma. I’m an actor, not a doctor, so I just nodded along and let them pull me up into the ambulance.

“The kidnappers,” I said. “They’re not Cardannon’s men. They’re real stalkers.”

“We know,” Rogan said soothingly. “You already told us. Just relax, now.”

“I’m riding with her,” Brady said. He climbed into the ambulance and squeezed my hand. “I’m not leaving her side for a week. Maybe two.”

A cop appeared by the door before the paramedics could close it. “One of you the owner of the vehicle parked in the westbound lane?”

“I’ll move it later,” Brady said.

The cop put his hands on his hips. “You’ll move it now, or we’ll tow it and give you a ticket.”

Brady turned to him. “Pal, you can push it into the ocean for all I care. I don’t give onesinglesolitary fuck. I’m not leaving this woman’s side.”

I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep while they argued.

*

The hospital trip was a blur. So were the tests they performed on me. They drew blood, then gave me an MRI. At least, I think that’s what that big pounding machine is. Like I said: I’m an actor, not a doctor.

Eventually I was wheeled into a private hospital room. Cooper was waiting for me inside. His head was bandaged.

“Heather,” he said, giving me a pained smile. “Looks like we both took blows to the head today, huh?”

I touched the bandage on the side of my head. “Looks like it. Hell of a day, huh?”

“Yeah.” His smile faded. “It was my job to protect you. I failed at that job. For that, and for everything that happened after, I’m so sorry…”

I squeezed his hand. “It wasn’t your fault. You did the best you could, given the circumstances. The only way you could have done better is if you had the ability to see through dust clouds.”

My three men came walking into the room then. “You’re not allowed to feel guilty about this,” Rogan told Cooper. “We’reat fault. For everything. This entire plan was doomed from the start.”

“Yeah, it was,” Brady said pointedly. “I was against it the whole time. The record will reflect that.”

“There is no record,” Rogan pointed out.

“Then I’ll make one,” Brady insisted. “A record of every time I was right and you were wrong. And at the top, in big red letters, will be today’s date. Because pal, youreallyfucked up.”

“Can we discuss this later?” Asher insisted.

“We caught the bastards alive, by the way,” Rogan said. “Brady subdued the driver, and Asher managed to tie up the other guy with one bad arm.”

Asher’s fair skin turned red. “Once I had knocked the knife out of his hand, it was easy.”

“They’re quite the Amirah Pratt stalkers,” Rogan said, shaking his head. “They’ve been planning this kidnapping for a while. They have a compound halfway to Las Vegas, with an underground bunker buried in the desert. Explosive ordnance teams are sweeping it for mines now. They’ve already found six.”

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