Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“She’ll be more comfortable upstairs.”
I nod once. “We’ll move her up there when she’s stable.”
Grizz carries her into the small room that’s closest to our operations center. Sometimes one of us catches a snooze in here when we’re on round-the-clock duty. There’s only a cot in the room, but I want her nearby for monitoring.
I flick on a low light. “We need to get her into dry clothes. Viper, can you bring a set of thermals?”
Grizz sets the woman and her blankets carefully onto the cot, where I recheck her vitals. “She’s still cold. Temp’s low, but not dangerous. Pulse is even. No bleeding except superficial cuts.”
“I’ll get heating pads.” Grizz starts to leave, but I stop him.
“Help me get her out of this dress.” The fabric is plastered to her skin, the sleeves are lace, and there are dozens of buttons running down the back.
“Should we cut it off?”
He’s reluctant, but the priority is to bring her to a comfortable body temperature as soon as possible. I finger the tear on her right shoulder and another on her sleeve. “It’s already damaged.”
Grizz produces his knife, and together we carefully cut away her gown. Underneath, there’s some sort of compression garment, though it’s not restrictive around the swell of her belly, another hint that feeds my suspicion.
Her undergarments are damp, too, so we remove them. We’re respectful professionals, but I can’t help but notice the woman’s beautiful curves.
“She might be pregnant,” I say as we cover her.
Grizz’s thick brows lift in surprise as Viper joins us with a stack of clothing and the medical kit.
As I clean and bandage her cuts and get her dressed, Grizz ducks out and returns with an armful of fresh blankets, a heating pad, and a portable heater. He sets it up without a word, moving with a quiet tenderness that never fails to surprise people who only see his size.
“I’ll stay with her until she wakes,” I tell them. “I’ll check her cognitive responses as soon as she’s conscious.”
Viper and Grizz study her as she lies there like a princess from a fairy tale, under a spell.
“Lock things down. In case whoever hurt her is looking for her.”
Both men nod and leave.
I bring in a chair and position it by her bedside, close enough that I can watch her chest rise and fall.
She’s not a small woman, but she’s impossibly delicate. Pale. Shaken, even in sleep.
What’s her story? What the hell did she run from?
She’s safe now. That part is solid.
I’ll keep it that way.
I sit at her bedside, vigilant. I tell myself I’m just doing my duty, the same as I’d do for anyone we rescued from a snowstorm. Behind that truth, I can’t deny that this vulnerable woman is reawakening a protective instinct I buried after Sarah’s death.
I won’t let it affect my judgement.
The woman wakes in the middle of the night, squinting against the low light, whispering something I can’t make out.
I keep my tone quiet and professional. “You’re safe. You were in a car accident. We found you. You’re at our home.”
Her eyelids flutter, her pupils reactive, but she drifts off again without trying to respond.
Grizz brings in a mug of warm broth at some point. “If she wakes long enough, try to get some in her.” He offers to relieve me, but I keep watch through the rest of the night.
In the morning, I go out to the kitchen to refill my coffee. Everything outside is buried under several feet of snow, but the storm has eased. When I return to my post a couple of minutes later, Brianna is stirring.
“Hey.” I speak softly, so I don’t startle her. “You’re at Sentinel Compound. We found you last night on Ridge Road. How are you feeling?”
She brings a hand to her temple. “Hurts. Everything hurts.” Her thick voice is barely a whisper.
“Can you eat?” Grizz brought in a tray earlier with tea, toast, and a small bowl of applesauce.
Her eyes flicker to the food, but she shakes her head weakly.
“No pressure. It’s here when you’re ready.” I reach for the medical bag. “I’m going to check your vitals again. Won’t touch anything without telling you first.”
She nods, then looks past me. Her eyes widen as she takes in Grizz, who’s standing inside the doorway.
I check her heart rate, blood pressure, and pupils, narrating each step, satisfied with what I find. She winces when I examine the bruise beneath her collarbone.
“Seatbelt did its job, but you’ll be sore for a while.”
Grizz comes close to gently adjust her pillows. “You let us know if you’re cold,” he tells her. “We’ll fix it.”
Her throat moves, swallowing dryness. “Thank you.”
He starts to form a cradle with the pillows so she can sit up, but she turns onto her side and closes her eyes.
Grizz and I step out into the hall. “She’s improving. Should be upright tomorrow,” I tell him.