Page 23 of Piece You Saved

“I’m not.”

And neither was Kade.

Saige is ours.

He smiles again, flashing a mouthful of straight white teeth. “You’d be wise to use the back elevator. Fewer people around this late. Or early, I guess.”

Early, most likely, since there’s a hint of sunlight peeking around the edges of the blinds.

I stare at him, frustrated at his easy smile and utter refusal to be intimidated. I don’t have time for this. We need to get Aden out of this hospital, and soon.

I push the wheelchair back down the hallway, keeping my eyes fixed ahead as if I’m in the habit of pushing wheelchairs up and down hospitals.

In the five minutes or so it took for me to get the white coat and wheelchair, Aden’s face has become flushed. His eyes flicker rapidly behind his closed eyelids, as if he’s dreaming hard. I frown as I step inside, nudging the door closed.

“When did it start?” I ask, sparing Saige a glance as she stands beside his bed, one hand resting on his brow.

“Just now,” she responds. “He’s burning up.”

“The bite?” I ask.

Kade turns to me from beside the life-support machine, and before I can stop him, he yanks the lead right out of the wall. So much for me turning the thing off. “Healed. It’s starting.”

Explains his lack of hesitation.

“You know, you could have told me that before unplugging him,” I grumble as I push the wheelchair to the bed.

He flashes me a grin. “Now, where would the fun be in that?”

I’d tell him none of this is fun, but Kade’s idea of fun has never been the same as mine.

After leaving the wheelchair at the foot of the bed, I join Kade in yanking tubes out of Aden. He has them everywhere. His forearms, a tube going down his throat. Another in his other arm.

Saige is quiet as she stares at Aden’s chest, as if she’s waiting for him to stop breathing any second. Or as if she’s willing his heart to keep beating. My guess would be the latter.

Aden’s increasingly ragged breathing and flushed cheeks mean we don’t have long—maybe an hour or two, if we’re lucky—to get him somewhere no one will hear him howl.

The possibility of Rylan attacking means going home isn’t ideal, but there’s no way we can take Aden to a hotel. Not with what he’s about to go through.

“What’s going to happen now?” Saige asks, her voice tight with tension.

I strip the sheets off Aden. He’s already bled through the bandages around his chest. Kade lifts him easily and settles him in the wheelchair.

“He’s going to shift,” Kade says. “We need to not be here when that happens. We good to go?” He peeks up at me once Aden is sitting, head slumped forward.

I lean down, secure Aden in the wheelchair, and ease him back so he doesn’t tip forward. “You and Saige walk in front. Fast, but not too fast. We don’t have time to waste. Let’s go.”

Kade walks ahead with Saige, one arm slung around her waist. I follow.

There’s no one around to stop us. The only person in the hallway is a nurse who yawns and nods tiredly at me as she continues past us, either toward the nurses’ station, or to leave for the end of her shift.

Halfway down the hallway to the back elevator Harley strongly suggested we use, Aden starts making low sounds in his throat. They’re not wolf growls yet, more like soft whines. But soon, they will be. I close my hand around his shoulder and squeeze, letting him know I’m here, and that he’s not alone. It’s about the only reassurance I can offer him while we’re still in the hospital.

We reach the elevator. After Kade presses the call button, we wait in tense silence for it to ping, and for the doors to slide open. It’s only when we’ve made our way inside and the door snicks shut that I let a little of my tension ease. Step one is over.

Now we just have to get Aden past the security and countless other doctors and nurses milling about on the ground floor.

As the elevator crawls down, Kade tugs Saige closer to his side. She presses against him, but she never loses the tension in her back as she stares up at the floor indicator counting down from five.

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