Midnight Action by Elle Kennedy
“You’re going to be just fine,” he said firmly.
She continued to release fast, shallow breaths, but he knew that no air was getting in, and her pale face worried him.
Luckily, Kane chose that moment to dive through the gate. “What the hell happ—” He stopped midsentence when his gaze registered the scene before him.
“We need to drain the lung cavity or she won’t make it,” Ash told the new arrival.
Kane was already unzipping the bulky canvas medical kit and rummaging around inside. When his hand emerged with a massive syringe, Cate gasped.
“What are you going to do?” she said uneasily.
“You heard the rookie,” Kane replied, his tone ringing with self-assurance. “We’re draining the blood. Get out of the way, Jim. Unless you want to do the honors?”
Since his hand was shaking way too hard to hold a syringe, Morgan reluctantly moved aside and allowed Kane to take his place.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Ash asked warily.
“Easy peasy. Just like Nicaragua. Remember? When Castle took two to the chest?”
Morgan felt sick as he watched Kane lean over Noelle’s body. A second later, the needle disappeared in her flesh, and the syringe immediately began to fill up with a pinkish fluid.
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Cate mumbled.
From the corner of his eye he glimpsed his daughter stumble off, but he didn’t tear his gaze off Noelle’s face. “It’ll be okay, baby. Kane is going to help you breathe, and then we’ll take you to the hospital to get you patched you up.”
As her gasps grew more violent, her expression got hazier and hazier.
“Stay with me,” he pleaded with her.
But she’d already lost consciousness.
Chapter 38
“Morgan? You want anything from the cafeteria?”
Morgan lifted his head to find Cate in the doorway. He met her eyes, then glanced back at the beautiful blonde lying in the hospital bed next to his chair.
“Nah, I’m good. But thanks, sweetheart.” Christ, it still hurt like a bitch to talk, but the doctors had assured him there would be no permanent damage to his windpipe.
She ignored his response. “I’ll bring you back a sandwich.”
Once she was gone, he couldn’t stop the smile that tugged on his mouth. Truth was, the only reason he’d eaten a bite these last few days was because his daughter had practically force-fed him. Cate had flipped out when she’d shown up the morning after Noelle’s surgery to discover he hadn’t eaten a thing all day, and she’d been fussing over him ever since.
He had to admit he kind of liked it. He’d thought he’d be the one taking care of her, considering everything she’d been through—losing her mother, her best friend, her grandfather, killing Bauer. But Cate was the most resilient girl he’d ever met. Ash kept calling to report that she was fitting right in at the compound. Enjoying target practice, diligently doing her schoolwork despite the fact that nobody was forcing her to. She was disciplined as hell. Just like he’d been when he was younger.
Morgan hadn’t been home since the night all hell broke loose, but Kane had also been calling in with reports. After Dietrich and Bauer were killed, the Serbian mercenaries staked out in the jungle had simply gotten up and left; with their bosses dead, they had no beef with the compound. And courtesy of Morgan’s friends in the CIA, a cleanup crew had been happy to take care of Dietrich’s and Bauer’s bodies. Dietrich had been a wanted man for more than four decades, and the US government was thrilled that he was finally out of commission.
With Dietrich out of the picture, Cate was officially safe, much to Morgan’s relief.
Noelle was another story. She’d been unconscious for three days, but the doctors didn’t seem worried about it. The surgery had gone well, and thanks to Kane’s and Ash’s quick work in the field, she’d suffer no permanent damage either.
But she still refused to wake up, and Morgan refused to go anywhere until she opened her damn eyes.
“Oh brother. Are you seriously sitting vigil at my bedside?”
Her husky voice startled the shit out of him. When he saw those incredible blue eyes peering up at him, the joy that exploded in his chest was so strong he almost fell out of his chair.
“You’re awake.” He dove out of the chair and went to sit at the edge of the bed, gently touching her cheek. Her skin was cold, but the color was slowly returning to her face.
“How are you feeling?” he said hoarsely.
“Like I got shot.” Groaning, she tried to sit up.
He quickly moved in to help her, and once he’d gotten her settled, he tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ears.
“You okay? Do you want some ice chips?”
She harrumphed. “No. I want whiskey.”
A crooked grin lifted the corner of his mouth. “You’re going to be one of those difficult patients, aren’t you?”
“Patient? Yeah right. I’ve already discharged myself in my head. I’ll be out of here before the nurses even know I woke up.”
He couldn’t help but frown at her. “What the hell were you thinking, facing off with Dietrich and Bauer by yourself?”
She scowled. “I was thinking I couldn’t let your dumb ass do it.”
Surprise washed over him. “You were trying to protect me?”
“Hardly,” she scoffed. “I was trying to protect your daughter, you moron. You’re the one who gave me that whole speech about kids needing their fathers, and yet you were willing to abandon your kid all over again by going after Dietrich?”
His chest tightened with emotion. “You went out there so Cate could have me around?”
Noelle sounded defensive now. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I did something heroic.” She shifted in discomfort. “I just wanted to give the girl a fighting chance, okay? So she wouldn’t end up like me.”
Tenderness softened his gaze. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing if she did.”
She laughed weakly, and he realized she thought he was kidding. Then she shifted again, trying to slide up higher, and a wince creased her face.
“Quit moving around,” he grumbled. “You’re recovering from surgery.”
Sighing, she leaned her head back against the plastic edge of the bed. “What happened to Bauer?”
“Dead.”
“Dietrich?”
“Dead. Nice shot, by the way. You got him right between the eyes.”
She looked pleased. “Thanks. I would’ve gotten Bauer too, but the asshole got a lucky shot off. Total fluke that his bullet missed the vest. Just my luck, huh?”
To his amusement, she yanked the IV right out of her wrist without so much as flinching. “There, that’s better,” she said with a happy purr.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Your sarcasm isn’t appreciated right now, Jim.”
“I wasn’t being sarcastic. You really are unbelievable. You’re incredible.”
She must have picked up on the emotion thickening his throat, because an awkward glint entered her eyes. “Jim...”
His voice went croaky again. “I have to ask you something.”
Her expression became downright wary. “What is it?”
“I was seeing someone in Costa Rica. It’s over now—well, it never really began, if I’m being honest. But anyway, she asked me about the woman I lost, and...” His voice cracked. “I told her about you. Not a lot, just a few things. She asked if you were dead...And I said yes.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“That’s what I used to believe,” he admitted. “I believed that you were dead—not literally, I mean. But figuratively. I couldn’t imagine that the girl I’d loved in Paris was still alive. But now I know she is.”
&nb
“Bullshit.” Swallowing, he reached out and placed his palm right above her left breast. “I know she’s in there somewhere. You just have to open your heart to me again and let me see her.”
“God, Jim.” She looked flustered. “Why are you acting like a sappy fool?”
“Because...” His throat ached again, and not because he’d nearly been choked to death. “Because I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay. With me.”
“Why?” Now she seemed even more agitated.
“Because I love you, damn it.”
He held his breath, waiting for her to say something, anything, but her expression had become veiled, and not a single word escaped her mouth.
“Noelle?” he murmured.
“You should find the nurse. Tell her I’m awake.”
The dismissal sliced into his heart like a hot blade.
“No,” he burst out. “You don’t get to fucking ignore this. You’re going to sit there and listen to every word I have to say.”
“Jim—”
“I fell in love with you the moment I met you at that café in Paris. I know you think I faked it, but damn it, I didn’t.” Frustration jammed inside him. “And there’s been a gaping hole in my heart ever since. Goddamn it, I’m empty without you. I tried to fill that void—believe me, I tried. I fucked other women, saved lives, took lives. But nothing worked. Nothing fucking worked.”
He was embarrassed to feel the sting of tears in his eyes. “I know we can never have it back. We can’t be what we once were. But even though we’ve changed, one thing hasn’t. You’re the only woman for me. The only woman I’ve ever wanted.”
She opened her mouth, but he wasn’t done. He wasn’t even close to done.
“I’ve missed you every day for the last nineteen years. There was never any hope of getting you out of my system—because you’re part of me, baby. There’s nobody for me but you. Only you.” He blinked through the tears swimming in his vision. “I can’t lose you again. I need you...God, I just need you to forgive me.”
She still didn’t speak, and he fought a jolt of desperation.
“I used you,” he choked out. “I used you and I lied to you. But I never lied about the way I felt. I loved you then, and I love you now.”
There was no response. Nothing but silence. He felt like he was talking to the damn air.
“Please,” he begged. “Just fucking say something.”
He waited. Implored her with his eyes.
And then she finally spoke.
“Can you go find the surgeon who operated on me? I want him to talk me through the surgery.”
The agony was so great, it felt like his chest had been ripped open with a pair of rusty pliers. “That’s it? Nothing else?”
Her blue eyes met his. “That’s it.”
Somehow he managed to stand up.
Somehow he managed to make it all the way to the door.
Once he got there, he halted. Swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to look at her again. “Think about it,” he mumbled. “Maybe you’ll have something different to say when I get back.”
Ten minutes later, after he’d tracked down her surgeon and returned to her room, he discovered that she still had nothing to say.
Because she wasn’t there.
Noelle was gone.
Chapter 39
Two days later
Cate poked her head into her father’s office, clutching a white envelope in her hands. “Do you have any stamps?” she asked. “I need to mail a letter.”
Although he nodded absently, his blue eyes never left the computer screen. Cate suspected he hadn’t heard a word she’d said.
They’d been spending a lot of time together since he’d gotten back from the hospital in San José, but the distracted cloud that surrounded him refused to disperse. She knew he was thinking about Noelle, but he hadn’t mentioned the woman since she’d pulled a disappearing act at the hospital. An orderly claimed that he’d seen her getting into a taxi wearing bright green scrubs, but Noelle hadn’t gone back to the compound, not even to get her purse.
Cate had no idea how the woman had managed to leave the country, but her father had received confirmation yesterday that Noelle was back in Paris.
“Morgan? Did you hear me?”
He tore his gaze off the monitor and glanced over at her, and as usual, she experienced a burst of relief that he was here with her, safe, alive. Every time she looked at him she remembered how he’d almost died last week, and no part of her regretted the decision to pull the trigger and shoot Nikolaus. In that moment, she’d chosen to save her father’s life instead of the man who’d raised her, and she refused to feel badly about it.
“Sorry, sweetheart. What did you say?”
“I asked if you had stamps. I need to send a letter.”
Cate’s throat clogged up as she stared at the address she’d scrawled on the envelope. She knew Gabriel’s mother would be happy to get the letter. They’d spoken on the phone a few times since Cate had left Paris, and Joséphine had been overjoyed to learn that Cate was all right. Word of Maurice Durand’s death had spread like wildfire through the city, and now his household staff was scrambling to find other jobs. Cate would have loved to send Gabriel’s parents some of her own money, but her grandfather’s funds had been frozen, thanks to his criminal activities, and she probably wouldn’t inherit a dime from him.
But Morgan had been happy to write her a check to send to the Traver family; it was currently tucked inside the envelope she held in her hand.
“Leave it here with me,” he said, sounding distracted again. “I’ll make sure it gets sent.”
His gaze returned to the computer, and then he clicked the mouse and the printer on the table behind him hummed to life.
With hesitant steps, Cate came forward and perched herself on the edge of his desk. “So...has she contacted you?”
Morgan shook his head, and Cate’s heart ached when she saw the flicker of pain in his eyes.
The other day, he’d finally told her all about his history with Noelle. He’d admitted just how much he loved the woman, and it made Cate sad that Noelle had left him. But Morgan insisted that he’d deserved it, that Noelle was too scared to trust him again and he had nobody to blame but himself.
“Well, aren’t you going to do something about it?” Cate asked in irritation.
“Of course I am.”
He looked surprised that she’d even asked, which in turn surprised her. “Really?”
Morgan rolled his eyes. “Cate, there’s one thing you need to know about your old man, which is that he doesn’t give up. Ever. When he wants something, he damn well gets it.”
She found herself laughing. “Good to know. So then what’s the plan?”
“Well, my heartfelt speech went nowhere, so it’s time to bust out the sweeping romantic gesture.”
To punctuate that, he pointed to the sheet of paper that had just popped out of the printer.
Curious, Cate wandered over and lifted the paper out of the tray.
She blanched the second she looked at it, then spun around to gape at her father. “Are you frickin’ kidding me?”
He wrinkled his brow. “What?”
“This is your idea of a romantic gesture?”
Morgan gave her a faint smile. “Trust me, Noelle will get it.”
“This is going to backfire horribly,” she grumbled.
His grin faded, but the determination in his eyes burned strong. “I guess we’ll find out.”
• • •
“Okay, this is getting annoying.” Bailey cornered Liam outside his room at the Paris penthouse, folding her arms over her chest as she fixed him with a stern look. As usual, the wom
Liam ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “It’s too early in the morning to have this convo, B.”
“Tough shit, L.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve done my damnedest to try and help you these past few days, and all you’ve done in return is be a stubborn ass.”
She was right. Ever since that terrifying, unexpected kiss in the guest room, the tension levels between Liam and his teammate had skyrocketed. To make matters worse, Morgan had ordered them to stay in Paris to monitor any fallout from the mission, which meant Liam couldn’t flee the city like he desperately wanted to. Luckily, the boss had finally given them the green light to come home, putting an end to the excruciating discomfort Liam had been plagued with for days.
He and Sully still hadn’t exchanged a single word about the kiss, though Bailey had been going out of her way to fix that. The woman had dragged them to a hundred places—tourist romps, restaurants, more than a few bars. Her endless energy and laid-back personality had succeeded in easing some of the tension between them, but it hadn’t resulted in any sort of discussion regarding the fact that Liam’s best friend had kissed him.
And he’d liked it.
Lord. His stomach churned each time he thought about it, unleashing panic and apprehension he’d never experienced before in his life.
That queasy feeling arose now as he met Bailey’s eyes. “I’m...” He swallowed. Lowered his voice to a barely audible pitch. “I’m not gay.”
She sighed, her expression softening. “Is that what all this avoidance is about?”
He nodded weakly.
“C’mere.” She tugged him into the bedroom and shut the door, then cupped his cheeks with her hands. “I get it, okay? You want to do your buddy and it’s freaking you out—I don’t blame you one bit. But being attracted to him doesn’t mean you have to make any monumental life changes.” Her lips twitched. “Look, I think we can agree that there are hundreds of women who can vouch for your heterosexuality.”