Page 52 of Trick's Elite

Eighthours.Eightexcruciating,silent hours.

As Trick watched the seconds on the clock pass by, there was a nonstop prayer and self-lecture happening in his brain.

Please let her live. It was my fault. That was my bullet. Take me but save her. Please save her. I shouldn’t be here. That bullet was meant for me. Please let her live. It was my fault.

His bear had remained silent for hours, and Trick wondered if the animal was blaming him for Stiletto’s condition. He deserved it, if that was the case. He allowed himself to get distracted, and he didn’t keep his mate safe.

“She’s going to be okay,” Ranger said from his left. When they arrived at the hospital, a nurse had handed Ranger a set of scrubs to change into since he was covered in Stiletto’s blood. The man had changed into the hospital garb, but he had put his cut back on over it. He looked ridiculous.

Trick gave a nod and returned his focus to the clock. “It’s taking too long.”

“It will take as long as it takes to make sure she’s okay. I’ve known Blade for twelve years, Trick. I trust him just as much as I trust any of you.”

“Blade?”

Ranger chuckled, but it was low and brief. “His name is Brandon Thomas, but he was dubbed Blade in the service. He just lived up to that nickname after he got out. He’s a trauma surgeon. She’s in the best hands around.”

Trick gave another nod, but he didn’t feel comforted. Until she opened her eyes and looked up at him, nothing would comfort him.

Rock stepped in front of him, blocking his view of the clock. He held out a bottle of water. “Drink.”

“I’m good.”

The bottle was held out closer to his face. “Drink.”

Not having the energy to argue with his brother, Trick took the bottle, cracked it open, and took a long drink. As he was taking a second one, Rock set two granola bars and a bag of chips on the seat next to him.

“Eat.”

With a sigh, Trick grabbed one of the bars and ripped it open. He’d eaten one of the bars and half of the chips when the surgeon stepped into the room. Setting aside his vending machine meal, he stood and crossed the space, meeting the surgeon halfway.

“If anyone asks,” the surgeon said low, “you’re her husband.”

Trick nodded. In the shifter world, hewas. “How is she?”

“The surgery went really well. I was able to find and repair the damage to her left kidney, stomach, and intestine. We’ll go over the details later, but I can tell you her recovery isn’t going to be easy or swift. She’s looking at six months to a year of recovery and even longer of physical therapy. She’s going to need a safe place to recover. In the beginning, she’s going to need a lot of help. Do you have someone who can help you take care of her? Does she have somewhere to go when she’s well enough to be released?”

Trick swallowed hard as he realized there were very few people in the world that he felt he could trust with helping him care of Stiletto. He felt a hand grip his shoulder, and when he looked to the side, he saw that it was Ranger’s hand. He was standing there with Rock, Skull, and Brute.

“We’ll help,” Ranger said.

He stared at his brothers for a long time before he answered, “Ranger can help. Maybe Rock. But Brute? I don’t want you anywhere near her.”

His older brother looked shocked and hurt, but Trick didn’t give a damn. Brute made that bed, and he could lay in it.

“Brother, I—”

Trick turned away from Brute and faced the doctor again. “I will make sure she has trustworthy and reliable caretakers, but I will be doing the majority of it. Whatever you say will be done, Blade. I’ll make sure of it.”

The surgeon nodded. “Give us an hour to get her situated. Then we’ll let you in to see her, but it will probably only be you for a while.”

Trick nodded and shook Blade’s hand. “Thank you. I owe you.”

“Just doing my job.”

“Still.”

The surgeon forced a smile, gave a nod, and left the room.

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