Flint’s Battle (Team KOA Bravo #3)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

I meant for more than just tonight.

Had she really said that? All but confessed she’d fallen so in love with Flint she couldn’t see straight? And not the concussive type of double vision she’d had when she’d first regained consciousness. That had obviously been a result of the surfboard hitting her head or the lack of oxygen to her brain. Maybe the low blood volume.

This was different. The way her breath hitched whenever he glanced at her. Or how the earth shifted from nothing more than a touch.

Five weeks of dancing around that spark, and Flint O’Connell had effortlessly brought her to her knees.

Moana arched a brow, glancing at the closed door as she crossed her arms on her chest. “Did what I think just happened, actually happen?”

Dahlia moved in beside her. “You mean the part where Emery told Flint she loved him, and he said the same thing back?”

Moana nodded. “Yeah, that.”

Mia crowded into the circle. “That’s definitely what I heard.”

Emery groaned inwardly. As crazy as it sounded, for that one moment, she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone with Flint. That everyone had witnessed the kiss — heard her tell him she wanted him to stay. Permanently. Hell, one of his buddies had probably filmed it on his phone, with her luck.

Flint did that to her. Made the world disappear. Helped her see what really mattered. That any future would be empty without him in it.

She shook her head, careful not to aggravate her injuries. “Are you sure I’m the one who got hit by the surfboard? Because you’re all having the same delusional dream.”

Mia scoffed. “Just because you didn’t say the actual words, doesn’t mean you didn’t say it other ways.”

“Mia’s right. You definitely told Flint you’re in love with him, and he one hundred percent returned that.” Dahlia thumbed at Mia. “And Mia should know. She’s all goo-goo eyes over Carter. Tells him repeatedly how much she loves him. Just like Moana and Bowie.” She held her chin high. “I’m the only sane one left.”

Moana scrunched her face up. “Please. You’re so hot for Quinn, I’m surprised you haven’t set off the sprinklers at Ohana’s.”

“Or melted all the ice before you get it in the drinks.” Mia smiled. “And don’t give us that look where you purse your lips and furrow your brow. We’ve known each other way too long to miss the signs.”

Dahlia huffed. “Quinn’s hot. I’ll grant you that.”

“He’s beyond hot, just like all the guys.” Moana winked at Emery. “Including Flint, I guess. You know, in the right light…”

“At the right angle.” Emery relaxed a bit, wincing when the movement pulled on her stitches. “He’s definitely something.”

Moana’s smile faltered. “You realize how lucky you were today, right? That the odds of Flint finding you, then getting you free without you both dy...”

She paused, coughing as she looked at Dahlia and Mia. But they just stood there, hands wrapped around their ribs as if they were cold.

Emery glanced at the closed door then over to the glass wall that overlooked the nursing station. Not quite a direct sight line to the waiting room, but all Flint needed to do was step into the corridor, and he’d see her. “I thought we were leaving the depressing stuff to the guys?”

Mia was the first to recover. “Absolutely. So… You. Flint. That kiss. I’m thinking you didn’t share nearly enough this morning.”

“I shared plenty.”

“And yet, I have questions.”

Emery laughed, tensing when the door creaked open, some guy in a lab coat walking through. He tripped a step as he took in all four of them, grinding to a halt just inside the threshold.

He cleared his throat, holding up a piece of paper. “I’m Dr. Fisher. I’m here to take Emery McClane…” He paused to look at her. “I assume that’s you, for a series of X-rays.”

Emery frowned. “I already had an X-ray.”

“I realize that, but our orthopedic team wants to double check your shoulder.” He smiled, but it seemed forced. “It’ll only take ten minutes or so, and I’ll bring you right back here.”

“Why didn’t my other doctor tell me about it?”

“It’s after seven. He’s gone home for the day. But he signed off on the request if you’d like to see it?”

She nodded, taking the sheet once he’d walked over to the bed. She scrutinized it, but it had definitely come from the hospital’s system. “It looks right, but you’ll have to clear it with my crew.”

“His name’s on the list, Detective McClane.” Officer Bates nodded at his clipboard. “I triple checked. And the captain personally approved everyone on it.”

Emery frowned, inhaling when a simple twist sent a stabbing pain through her shoulder blade. What felt like that metal plate grinding on bone.

Fisher sighed. “And that’s why you need a few more X-rays. They’re worried about that plate. I promise I’ll have you back in record time.”

Officer Bates moved in beside the doctor. “And I’ll follow you to the elevators then tell your friend once I’m back so he can make his way over and be there for your return trip. Okay?”

Emery braced her elbow, looking between the two men. “I appreciate you’ve done your due diligence, Bates, and I’m thrilled his name is on the list, but I’m not going anywhere without a member of my crew or at the very least, my service weapon. Get me one of those, and I’m all yours.”

Moana grabbed her hand. “You really should let them check your shoulder, Em. Even Kian said he was concerned the bullet might have damaged that plate.” She winked. “Bet I can be back here with Flint or Bowie before your doctor gets an orderly in here to help push that bed.”

“I doubt it but you’re welcome to try. And tell Flint I want my damn Beretta, seeing double or not.”

Emery shifted to scoot her ass closer to the back of the bed when Fisher moved. Two seconds flat, and he had Bates snugged against him, one arm around the officer’s neck. The other palming the cop’s side arm. Another second and Fisher was cracking Bates on the side of the head. Dropping him hard to the floor. By the time Emery was able to react and roll off the edge and gain her feet, it was over. Just that muzzle pointed at her. Fisher’s wild gaze scanning the room.

He grabbed the cuffs off of Bates’ limp form, tossing them on the bed. “You two…” He waved the gun at Dahlia and Mia. “Slip the cuffs through the rail then each secure your right hand.”

The women stood there, staring.

Fisher grunted. “Either do it, or I start shooting.”

Emery teetered in front of them. Not quite balanced, but at least she hadn’t fallen onto the floor yet. Was able to shift enough to block any shot at her friends. “Easy. You’re in charge, just give them a moment. They’re in shock.” She turned to her friends, nodding. “It’s okay. Just do as he says.”

Fisher sneered at her, motioning to the wheelchair stashed against the wall. “Plant your ass in the seat, detective. And you…” He swept the weapon over toward Moana. “You’re coming with us. You can push your friend.”

Emery stopped short of sitting. “She’s got nothing to do with this. Trust me. You don’t need more bargaining power than me.”

“I’m not bargaining, bitch. And despite your condition, I’m betting you’ll be much more cooperative if it’s her life on the line, and not just yours.”

Moana moved in behind Emery. “It’s okay, Em. I’ll go with you.”

Emery gave Moana a firm stare, hoping her friend got the message. While Emery wouldn’t try anything until they were clear, she wasn’t going down without a fight. Moana simply smiled, moving the IV pole then pushing the chair to the end of the bed.

Fisher snuck in behind them, scouring the room one more time. “I swear, if I hear so much as a whimper, I’ll start shooting. And yeah, I might not make it out alive, either, but then neither will any of you. Because I can drop all of you before your goon squad can get in here. Are we clear?”

Dahlia and Mia nodded, though Emery knew they’d be pounding on the glass or shouting for help as soon as she was clear with Moana.

Fisher walked over to the door then waved them through. “And that goes for both of you. So much as a grunt, and your friend will have her brains splattered all over the hallway.”

Emery didn’t reply, holding back a groan as pain sparked up her torso and down her arm. She hadn’t realized how bad her shoulder was until simply sitting without any support twisted the damn thing in the socket — colored everything black and blue.

Moana pushed Emery out, stumbling a few steps when Fisher gave her a shove. Moana glared at the man over her shoulder, doing her best to draw the journey out, despite Fisher hurrying them along.

He stopped them at a bank of elevators, standing in an awkward silence until the machine pinged and those silver doors slid open. Fisher took ahold of the handles, nodding for Moana to get in first before wheeling Emery inside. He spun so his back was to the wall, and she was facing the doors before reaching for the upper floor button, his coat inching up on his arm — exposing a web tattoo on his wrist. The same one she’d noted on one of the guys who’d been at the factory. Who had escaped in the boat.

Well crap.

While she’d suspected the shooting was connected to the factory incident, knowing it was likely the same asshole, didn’t bode well. Meant all those suspicions she’d had about the weapons being cartel related were true. And if she couldn’t figure out a move before they reached the top floor, it wasn’t just her life that was over.

Emery forced herself to take a calming breath. Panicking wouldn’t solve the problem, and it wouldn’t help her focus long enough to take stock. Though, stilling her mind for a moment only highlighted how desperate the situation was. Because even with the meds and the blood transfusions and the bed rest, she was winded from simply staying awake let alone thinking about defending herself. And while she wasn’t quite seeing double like Flint had joked, the scenery shuffled every few minutes, like an extra frame ghosting into view.

Having Moana along was Emery’s one wildcard. Her friend was fierce, and Emery knew she’d fight, but if this guy was a pro…

Not a pro. Mercenary, maybe, but Emery doubted he was an actual assassin. A hitman wouldn’t have let her catch a glimpse of his tattoo on the off chance she’d noticed it the other night. Not that only being a mercenary or drug dealer gave them an advantage. It was still more of a threat than Moana had ever faced, her recent stalker incident included. And Emery was definitely a liability at the moment. But with a bit of combined skill, and a whole lot of luck, they had a chance.

In fact, all she had to do was figure out a way to buy them enough time until the cavalry arrived because she knew, without a doubt, Flint and Bowie were probably already on the way. That Flint wouldn’t wait a second over that five-minute window he’d given her, and once he found Dahlia and Mia handcuffed…

The elevator doors started to close, reopening moments later when Emery let her foot slip off the footrest long enough to activate the sensors before sliding it back on. Hoping the asshole hadn’t noticed. Fisher grunted, pressing the button again as he mumbled under his breath.

Moana had obviously noticed because she edged closer, looking as if she was ready to claw the guy’s face off if Emery gave her some special signal. No explanation. No hesitation.

Emery glanced at her right hand, staring at the IV needle long enough Moana would get the message before looking up at her friend. Giving her a shift of her eyes toward Fisher.

To Moana’s credit, she didn’t give anything away. Simply replied with a curt nod, positioning herself to back up whatever crazy plan Emery sprung on her.

And the plan was definitely crazy. A Hail Mary as Flint would say.

Shit, Emery would owe him, again. And this time, she had no one to blame for putting her and Moana in harm’s way but herself. What was shaping up to be an epically poor choice on her part because if she hadn’t wanted some alone time with her friends, Bowie would have been in the room. And she doubted Fisher would have tried anything.

Emery shoved away the thoughts. She could agonize over the mistake later, assuming they were both still alive.

The elevator pinged then shut, the entire machine shaking before jerking upward.

Ten seconds.

That’s how long she had before they reached the top floor and whatever was waiting for them.

That got her focused. Mustering every ounce of strength she had before springing into action. A shift of her feet and she had them braced against the closed doors, the grippy bits on her socks grounding her. A breath and a shove and the wheelchair shot backwards, pinning the creep against the far wall.

That’s all the opening Emery needed as she grabbed the needle from her hand then turned in the chair — stabbed the length into the asshole’s hand. He screamed, opening his grip and allowing that gun to clatter to the ground as the needle skewered him to the handle.

A lean and a pivot and she was on her feet. Shaky and off-balance but enough to yank the needle free then jab it in his neck. Shove him all the way onto the floor as the wheelchair tipped over, landing on top of him. A slam of the emergency button and the lift rocked to a halt, an alarm piercing the stillness.

Moana joined in, kicking the bastard in the head as she hit one of the buttons — got the doors open. They weren’t quite level with the lower floor, but enough they could jump down. Get a bit of a head start.

Moana went first, catching Emery when she all but fell through the opening, barely staying upright as the ground tilted. Sliding in and out at odd angles before finally stabilizing slightly off-kilter.

But good enough she was able to get her legs moving. Stumble down the hallway with Moana bridging half her weight. That stupid hospital gown fluttering behind her, leaving her ass exposed as they took the next corridor branching off to the right. Anything to get them out of sight.

That asshole yelled Emery’s name as a loud thud echoed behind them. What Emery assumed was him jumping out of the elevator. And with her moving so slowly…

Was she leaving a trail of blood? Because her hand had a line of red across the back. What looked like dried droplets by her pinky finger. Or maybe her shoulder had sprung a leak. What felt like a few pulled stitches beneath the bandages. Something warm and wet against her skin. Regardless, she was making it easy for the creep to hunt them down.

Emery pointed to a darkened doorway, double checking she hadn’t left any evidence right outside the entrance as they darted inside — locking the door behind them then pressing their backs against the slab. Footsteps echoed in the distance, racing toward them before cutting off.

Emery grabbed Moana’s hand, motioning for her to hunker down as the footsteps started up, then paused. That eerie silence weighing down the air until the noise started again.

The bastard was checking the rooms.

She held her breath, staying clear of the window when the handle rattled, a shadow blocking out the light from above. The door shook, the guy putting some of his weight against it before huffing — his footsteps moving away.

Moana shuffled in front of Emery, chancing a peek out the window. “I think he’s gone.”

Emery snorted. “Not for long.”

“Who is that guy?”

“Thinking he’s the asshole behind the scope this morning. Guess he’s here to finish the job.”

Moana paled. “Oh god. This is all my fault. If I hadn’t told Flint to take Bowie with him?—”

“This isn’t your fault. I should have known better than to ask Flint to leave us unprotected. Not when I’m barely operating at fifty percent.”

But with her head foggy and her brain set to buffer mode, she hadn’t really been thinking clearly about anything, other than wanting to spend the future with Flint. How she needed to heal so she could hunt down the asshole who’d tried to kill her.

Moana worried her bottom lip, still glancing out the window. “What do we do? Make a run for it?”

Emery would have laughed but it would have taken too much effort. “Not sure I’ll be running anywhere. But we need to make sure he’s really gone and not just waiting in the shadows before we open that door.”

“How do we know when it’s safe?”

“Good question.” She pushed off the door, nearly dropping to the floor when everything shifted. “Shit.”

Moana wrapped her arm around her waist. “Your shoulder’s bleeding, again.”

Emery waved it off. “That’s not going to matter if we don’t find another way out of here. A lot of these treatment rooms have double exits. We should look along the back wall.”

She really hoped there was another exit because that voice inside her head was certain the asshole knew they’d hidden inside that room and was waiting for them to make another bad decision.

Moana nodded, groping her way along the wall. Helping Emery stumble along beside her. “Why isn’t there anyone in this wing, anyway? Shouldn’t it be brimming with nurses and orderlies and security guards with guns?”

Emery sighed. “That’s because of me. If Milligan was worried there might be another attempt on my life, he would have had the hospital isolate me as much as possible. To minimize any possible collateral damage. There’s some construction on the far wing. I assume that’s where we are and why we’re alone. Ironic, really.”

“Remind me to kick your boss in the ass later.”

Emery snorted, still dragging her butt across the room, when the door rattled, again, the handle clicking as someone tried to open it.

That got Moana moving faster. Half-carrying Emery along as she headed for the back, shrieking when the window above the main door shattered — a fire extinguisher careening through the opening before skipping across the floor and crashing into a gurney. Bits of mesh curled out from the broken glass, a decent-sized hole brightening the room.

Emery scanned the opening and either she really was seeing double or there were at least two men, now, twin silhouettes peering through the broken window.

That was all she needed to push through the fatigue and pain — get her weight under her and start moving on her own. Not as fast as she would have liked, but it freed Moana up to dart ahead — find the door they’d been hoping for positioned off to the left.

A twist of the lock and a pull and they were out. Running down a darkened corridor. Emery wasn’t sure if this section was still being repaired or if the men had found a way to cut the power — maybe use night vision goggles in order to give them the upper hand. Either way, she kept going, dodging through a set of sliding doors and into another empty department. Something crashed behind them, voices sounding in the distance.

Emery took the next door, shoving Moana behind a large machine off to one side. “Stay hidden. And once those bastards race past to follow me, you fucking run back to Flint and Bowie.”

She held up her hand when Moana shook her head. “I know you don’t want to leave me, but it’s me they’re after and these aren’t your average players. If they aren’t worried about killing a cop, they won’t think twice about you.”

Her stomach heaved at the thought. Or maybe it was all her injuries starting to play havoc with her body. The stress of having to push past those limits. “Please, Moana. I can’t be the reason you don’t get a future with Bowie.”

Moana pursed her mouth, shaking her head, again, only firmer than before. “I’m not leaving my wingman. Period.”

Emery stared at her before nodding. She really didn’t have the energy to argue. And she’d be lying if she said a part of her didn’t want Moana’s help. That maybe with the two of them working together, they might actually live through this. “Okay, Mav . Then, it’s time we made a plan — go on the offensive. Because I’ll be damned if I die with my ass hanging out of this crappy gown. So, take a breath and gather your courage. This is going to be messy.”