“Now, that’s better,” Samuels said, satisfaction lining his voice. “Let me make this simple for you, sweetheart. Just so you know what a bastard your lover is. The old man over there sent lover boy to Houston to cozy up to you because he knew I’d hooked up with your mother. And then lover boy brings you out here to lure me out.”
Samuels looked over at Gray. “Were you planning to take me out yourself? Bet you didn’t tell your buddies in Houston that. Quite the sting operation they were running. The decoy looked remarkably like Faith. I probably would have fallen for it if the old man hadn’t let it slip where you were holding her. But then I guess that was all part of the plan. Only I decided to change things up a bit. I’m not entirely stupid.”
Faith looked shell-shocked. Hurt and confusion emanated from every part of her body. “Is it true?” she whispered.
Gray wasn’t going to waste time begging for her understanding. That could come later. Right now his focus was on keeping Samuels from taking her. He ignored her question and tuned out the betrayal in her stare.
“You won’t get very far,” he said evenly. “You’re on an island, for God’s sake. How do you think you’re going to get off with a hostage?”
“The same way I got on with one,” Samuels said with a chuckle.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mick make a move. Gray tried to reach him, to prevent the stupid action, but Mick hurtled himself forward, like an out-of-control lunatic. He didn’t care about Faith or whether she got hurt, he only saw his son’s killer.
It all happened so quickly. The loud report of gunfire. Faith’s scream. Mick crumpling to the floor. It was the night of Alex’s shooting all over again, and he was powerless to stop it. Another shot sounded, and a searing pain blazed through his arm. The last thing he remembered as he crumpled to the floor was the look of fear and betrayal in Faith’s eyes.
CHAPTER 36
Pain. It was the one thing he was aware of as he opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. Gray blinked, and then the memory of what happened came roaring back.
He flipped himself over, ignoring the surge of agony that blasted through his chest. He put an experimental hand up to his shoulder, and looked as he pulled it away again. Red. Bright red blood. Fuck.
He scrambled over to where Mick lay. He rolled the older man over, his chest tightening when he saw the massive chest wound. He knew before he felt for a pulse that he would find none.
Tears burned his eyes. He was so goddamn angry. Mick’s death was as pointless as Alex’s. And now Faith’s life was in danger.
The room swam in his vision. He felt light-headed and weak from the blood loss. In his pocket, he felt his phone pulse and vibrate. Ignoring the screaming pain shooting through his body, he thrust his hand into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He flipped it open and shoved it to his ear just as he collapsed back to the floor.
Micah didn’t even wait for him to mutter a greeting. He started sounding off, cursing a blue streak.
“Slow down,” Gray said weakly. “What was that about a news story?”
“Your fucking buddy Mick set you up. You have to get the hell out of there, Gray. He went on the goddamn news going on about the operation and how you and Faith were in hiding—”
“It’s too late,” Gray managed to rasp out. “He’s been here. He has Faith. Mick’s dead. I’ve been shot. Need help.”
“Oh Christ. Fuck. Man, are you okay? Talk to me. Hold the line while I call the damn ambulance.”
“Not dying. Just feel like it. I think.”
Again Micah cursed. Gray heard him yell at someone in the background and then vaguely heard him tell a 911 operator the situation and the address of the beach house.
Micah’s voice grew dimmer and dimmer. He gritted his teeth and tried to hold on. At some point, Nathan got on the phone, but none of what he said made sense. It was all a garbled mess.
“Find Faith,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about me. You have to find Faith.”
He faintly registered someone shouting his name, but he wasn’t strong enough to hold the phone to his ear any longer. It clattered to the floor as the room went dark once again.
Blinding light pierced his eyeballs as someone peeled back his eyelids. He shook his head and snapped his eyes shut again.
“Come on, son, wake up.”
Gray let his eyes flutter open.
“Ah, that’s better.”
The room came into focus, and Gray realized he was in a hospital bed. A man he presumed was a doctor stared at him from a few feet away, clipboard in hand.
Gray’s gaze skirted around the room until he saw Micah standing in the far corner, phone to his ear.
“Where’s Faith?” he rasped.
Micah snapped the phone shut and hurried to the bed. “Shit, man, you scared the hell out of me. It’s about damn time you woke up.”
Gray looked between him and the doctor. “How long have I been out?”
“A little over twenty-four hours,” the doctor replied.
Gray let out a stream of curses, and he struggled to get out of the bed.
“Whoa, son, where do you think you’re going?” the doctor demanded as he put a hand on Gray’s chest and shoved him back down on the bed.
Gray looked desperately at Micah. “Faith. Where is she? Have you found her?”
Micah’s expression was grim as he shook his head. “Sorry, man. Nothing yet.”
Gray shut his eyes and thumped his head against the pillow. “I have to get out of here. I have to find her.”
The doctor frowned and turned his disapproving stare on Gray. “You won’t be going anywhere today.”
“How bad is it?” Gray demanded, as he gestured toward his heavily bandaged shoulder.
“Not nearly as bad as it could be,” the doctor said in a placating voice. “Just a flesh wound. I stitched you up. Our main concern was the loss of blood. Sometimes the simplest wounds bleed badly.”
“If it’s just a flesh wound, then I can get the hell out of here,” Gray growled.
“You need to rest. I might consider letting you go tomorrow, although I’d prefer you to stay a few days. We have to monitor you for infection.”
“I’m leaving today,” Gray said through gritted teeth. “Write me a damn prescription for some painkillers and some antibiotics, and I’ll be good to go.”
“If you leave, you’ll have to sign as AMA.”
“I don’t give a shit. I’m walking out of here, with or without your permission.”
He glanced at Micah, expecting to get grief from that corner, but Micah stayed silent.
The doctor sighed. “All right, but I’m going on record that you’re leaving against strict medical advice. I’ll write the prescriptions. Be sure and take those antibiotics. If you start running fever or your wound gets red and inflamed or swells more, then you get your ass back here.”
Gray shoved himself into an upright position and nearly passed out as a wave of pain hit him. He groaned and reached down with his free hand to steady himself.
Micah gripped his arm. “Hang on to me, and don’t try to stand up too fast.”
Between the two of them, they managed to get Gray out of bed. The doctor returned a moment later and handed Micah a piece of paper with the prescriptions on it. Then he shoved a clipboard at Gray.
Gray took it and didn’t bother reading over it. He knew what it said. The whole spiel about the hospital not accepting responsibility if he dropped dead in the parking lot. Yeah, he got it. He scribbled his signature and thrust the clipboard back at the doctor.
He waited for Micah to head out, and he followed slowly behind, trying not to acknowledge the way the floor shifted and swayed underneath him. He felt like a goddamn sissy.
By the time Micah half dragged, half helped him to the lobby, Gray was sweating, and he was sure he had to be white as a sheet.
“Dude, I’m not so sure this was a good idea,” Micah said. “You look like shit. Are you going to make it?”