28

Bloom was quiet—way too quiet in his corner, which made me nervous as I checked the patient's vitals one more time, urging him wordlessly to stay alive. I'd done as much as I could to repair his internal organs, but the bullets had done extensive damage to his lungs and abdomen. His shallow breaths drowned out the faint hum of the machines. His pulse was weak and unsteady under my gloved fingertips.

How long before they realized we were having trouble stabilizing the patient? My team members understood well enough what we were up against. Through years of working together, we didn't need to communicate out loud for everyone to know the situation was serious. The stability we'd assured Two Fingers of wasn't entirely true but had to deceive him. The lives of my team members depended on it.

And Bloom's.

Why had he come? He could have escaped instead of putting himself in the mix of things.

At last, I caught Bloom's gaze. His eyes glimmered with determination. He was up to something. I gave a tiny shake of my head to tell him to give up whatever idea he had. They outnumbered us. Even if by some stroke of luck we escaped without being shot, more of them were outside the OR. The most we could hope for was for the authorities to take control of the situation quickly. A hospital was sacred ground. We took care of the good and the bad alike. Such a monstrous act could have only been carried out by the worst scums.

"Hey!" Two Fingers knocked me at the back of the head with his gun. "What are you communicating to him?"

Bloom shifted.

"Bloom, don't."

Two Fingers walked up to Bloom and smirked over his shoulder. "You worried about your lover boy, Doc?" He grabbed Bloom by the hair and jerked him to his feet. "If he means that much to you, here take him." He shoved Bloom into me, and I caught him against my chest. "Can't say I didn't do you any favors letting you have one last fuck. Be a good boy and bend over for the doc. You need to keep him in a happy mood so he can continue working on our friend."

Pervert.

I brushed Bloom's hair from his face and ignored the asshole who was watching us as if he expected me to fuck Bloom in a roomful of people. I would never degrade him that way.

"Are you okay?" we both asked at the same time. We smiled at each other, and I pressed my forehead to his. "What are you doing here? Why didn't you leave when you realized what was happening?"

"You're here. Why would I leave? Either we're both safe, or we die together."

My knees buckled, and it was more than from the long hours of standing while operating on the dying man on the table. "Bloom, you adorable fool. You are young. You have your whole life ahead of you to love—"

"I'm not going to love anyone else, so you'd better stay alive."

"Bloom."

"I'll think of a way to get you out of here."

"Don't you mean us?" His silence terrified me. "Please don't. The police will take control of the situation. They're probably here already but being cautious to minimize the casualties. We just need time."

"All right, if you're not going to take advantage of the moment, break up that whispering." The man grabbed Bloom by his arm and threw him back across the room so effortlessly it further drove home that he couldn't take them. And he shouldn't have to.

The door banged open, and a masked man stepped in with a bag full of bottled water and snacks they'd either pilfered from the shop or vending machines. I divided them among the others, then gratefully gulped down one bottle. As much as I wanted the second, I kept it just in case. Bloom did the same, even though the nurses and the anesthesiologist downed theirs in one go.

Those three will be of no help at all if we escape.

"How's the situation out there?" Two Fingers asked.

"The cops have the hospital surrounded. For now, they're staying away because Magnus has made it clear he will shoot if they enter the hospital. He's preparing to make demands."

"Have you locked up as many of the staff in one area like I told you?"

"Yes."

"If the cops try to enter, don't bluff. You kill a member of staff to show how serious we are. We're in deep now and can't back down. Where's Papercut?"

"Dead."

"What the fuck do you mean, dead?"

"He's dead, man. They said two cops brought in the boss after our shootout with the cops, but they're already dead. So are three of our guys. We must have missed a cop."

"How were they killed?"

"Two had knife wounds. We found Papercut at the bottom of the emergency stairwell. Somebody did a number on him."

"Fuck. Gather as many men who aren't posted at the exits and have this place scoured from top to bottom. If a cop's hiding out there, we need to find him."

Bloom moved his finger over the floor in circles as though the conversation didn't interest him.

He'd killed those men. I knew it deep in my gut. They hadn't searched him when they brought him in. Did he still have his knives on him? What if they found them? Bloom bobbed his head as if he was listening to a song, his expression cool. What kind of scheme was he hatching?

Night came, and we were still not allowed to leave. From their updates, we learned that the cops were refusing to negotiate. A doctor had been killed to prove their point now that the Smoky Vale PD seemed to be dragging out the situation and waiting for backup. Meanwhile, the criminals had demanded more—a helicopter to take their leader safely out of the city and me and one of the nurses to go with them.

Each time they asked for a brief about the man lying unresponsive on the operating table, I fibbed, but how long could I fake it? He'd gone into cardiac arrest again, and we'd barely managed to "save" him. At least our captor seemed to be grateful for our efforts and sent for food for us. When we went to the bathroom, someone escorted us, but for the most part, we were left alone with Two Fingers, who seemed to be in charge.

I loathed sleeping in the same room as someone so despicable, but because of Bloom's restlessness the night before and the stressful situation, I nodded off while I sat on the floor. The others had already taken terms napping. I kept jerking my head up, trying to stay awake. Bloom seemed to be sleeping already, with his knees tucked up to his chest. I couldn't sleep. I had to watch over him, ensure those assholes didn't touch him.

In the middle of the night, a boot kicked my foot. My eyes flew open. Two Fingers crouched over me, his face white. "Something's wrong. Get your ass over there and help."

What else could I do? I'd known this was coming. I scrambled to my feet and rushed to the table. We didn't have enough people in the OR assisting, but I refused to request assistance. Not when they would only walk into a hostage situation.

The chaotic rhythm on the ECG monitor confirmed the worst—ventricular fibrillation. We worked with an efficiency that was fueled by the knowledge that if we fucked up, we were dead. But that pressure couldn't fix the low cardiac output signs, the low blood pressure, and pulse irregularities. Despite putting in everything that we could into saving the patient, I had to call his time of death, knowing what it meant for us. There was only so long we could carry out the resuscitation protocols.

"No, don't stop!" Two Fingers cried out. "You keep going until you revive him."

"It's too late. He's dead."

A gunshot rang out as Two Fingers shot Manny in the chest. The anesthesiologist fell to the ground, body convulsing. "Maybe you'll take me more seriously right now. Resuscitate him!"

I needed to save my coworker. The man on the table was dead, but there was still a chance for Manny. The two nurses huddled into each other, sobbing.

"He's dead. Let me save Manny, please—"

He swung the gun around to the two nurses. "I'll try again. If he dies, don't think any of you will get out of here alive. This man is the blood of our organization. Now fucking save him."

I returned to carry out CPR on a dead man while Manny took his last breath.

The flat line echoed around the room as I mechanically performed chest compressions. A cold shudder ran through me.

Our time's up. I can't revive him.

I flicked my gaze to Bloom, and my heart faltered. He had unplugged a power cord attached to one of the monitors. Two Fingers was so agitated, his whole attention on the man on the table, he hadn't noticed.

Oh god, please don't let him get hurt.

Two Fingers stood with his back partially turned to Bloom. In one fluid motion, Bloom wrapped the cord around his hands to form a makeshift garrote. He approached like a tiger stalking his prey while Two Fingers urged me to keep resuscitating the dead man.

I have to help him.

"I'm sorry. He's gone. There's no use doing this anymore."

Two Fingers's face turned purple as he raised his arm. Bloom sprang, looped the cord around his neck from behind, and pulled tight. He gasped, clawing at the cord, but Bloom was relentless, even when a fist clocked him across the jaw. Bloom wrapped his legs around the man's waist. The gun went off. Two Fingers stumbled back into the wall, slamming Bloom against the hard surface. My little demon still hung on for dear life. How could I let him fight alone?

I grabbed a scalpel, rushed forward, and did the one thing I'd taken an oath not to do. I drove the scalpel deep into his neck, right where his carotid artery lay. Bile rushed into my throat as he choked on his blood. His knees buckled, and he crumpled to the floor, the gun clattering to the floor.

Unfazed by what had just happened, Bloom climbed to his feet, scooped the gun up, checked the clip, and searched the man's pocket for extra ammunition. His eyes were hard, purposeful, the softness I'd experienced as he lay in my arms, gone.

This was the killer I always knew existed.

I swallowed hard, my hand numb from clutching the bloody scalpel. My breaths came in gasps, each intake of air echoing loudly in the deathly silent room.

"B-Bloom," I stammered, "are you… are you all right?"

He barely gave a nod. "They'll have heard the gunshots. More than likely others will come. Let's go."

"Wait, what about the nurses…" But the place where they had stood when pandemonium struck was empty. They must have run out when Bloom struck.

"Logan, let's get moving now. Stay behind me."

"Two Fingers, we heard—" A man stood in the doorway, staring in shock at us.

Bloom blew a hole in his face that made my stomach curdle.

"Fuck. There's no time to think, Logan. Just do what I fucking say!"

What had happened to me giving the orders? I didn't take them, but I stumbled out of the OR after Bloom. He disarmed the dead man and stepped on the body, showing no respect at all for the deceased.

What are you thinking about? These men want you dead.

Bloom handed me the gun. "Aim, fire. You don't need to have a perfect aim, just point it at the chest area or distract them long enough for me to kill them. Do you understand?"

Pull yourself together.

"Yes. I should lead, though. I know the hospital like the back of my hand."

Bloom didn't seem to like the idea, but footsteps approached from the opposite corridor. "All right, this way."

With the expansion work happening, the construction team had created a temporary passage, which they used to move equipment in and out without impeding regular hospital traffic. I led Bloom through a series of turns, each step filling me with hope that we might make it out of here.

How could criminals overrun a busy hospital? Where had so many come from? Two men walked out of a hospital room, laughing and buttoning their jeans. Sick bastards. Caught off guard by our appearance, they hesitated. Bloom didn't. His actions were swift and lethal, the marking of a seasoned killer. The dissonance between the two Blooms was jarring, but survival overshadowed my concerns.

"We're close to the exit," I whispered.

Bloom nodded, still not speaking. His hyperfocus was both terrifying and reassuring. We went down a flight of stairs. As we approached the final bend to escape, we stopped dead in our tracks. Shit. Four men guarded the passage. Our exit was blocked. Not only that but beyond them was a black van. I should have suspected this was how they gained access to the hospital in the numbers they'd shown up in.

Retreat was our only option.

I pulled at Bloom's arm. Thank god he didn't protest, and we retraced our steps. My mind raced for an alternative, a temporary haven within the sprawling hospital complex where we could regroup and maybe find another way out. Then it hit me. The flooded hospital wing still hadn't been dealt with. During our last meeting, the CEO had explained the last contractors they'd hired were unable to do the work, so they were sourcing another company. That was a week ago. I'd never been so grateful for the stingy bureaucrats who controlled the hospital budget.

"This way," I whispered, steering us toward the wing. The electricity for the wing had been cut because of the flooding. Bloom used the flashlight from his phone to guide us through the halls. Watermarks stained the walls, and in some parts, the paint was peeling off in large flakes, showing the mold beneath. We continued over the mildew-infested floor, the pungent scent of damp and decay making us gag, but we had no choice. It felt like stepping into a different world, one that time had forgotten. The silence was eerie but welcome after the chaos we'd left behind.

We found an abandoned patient room, its furnishings sparse and covered in dust. I closed the door gently behind us. The bed still had its sheets but was broken. We figured it could still be used as a barricade, and together we pushed it up against the door. Light barely seeped through the dusty windows, creating a foggy gloom. Bloom walked over, used his shirtsleeve to wipe a clean circle against the windowpane, and looked out.

I walked up behind him, and he stiffened. Why was he reacting like this? Why was he avoiding me? I placed my arms slowly around his waist and hugged him. A few seconds later, he sagged against me.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"We need to find a way to get you out of here."

"Bloom, did you hear what I just asked you?"

"I can't be okay until I know you're safe."

I turned him around in my arms. "Dammit, don't you think it's the same for me? I want you to be safe, and it scares me that you're making plans for me but not yourself. What's going through your head?"

"Getting you out of here."

"Just so you know, whatever you're hatching, I'm not leaving you behind." He grunted and fished a knife out of his pocket. Why did he have so many knives on him?

"They didn't search you?"

He shrugged. "Guess they didn't see me as a threat." He tried to pry the window open, but it wouldn't budge, and he gave up. He held up his phone. "Fucking reception's horrible in here."

My sweet, na?ve, vulnerable boy was gone. How was this the same Bloom who had sat on the floor with his arms wrapped around my legs? The boy I'd found in my shower berating himself for wetting my bed? There was no vulnerability in him. No fear. But fear was good. Fear kept you alive.

"Shit. Crowe's been calling me. The damn therapist makes me turn it off when we have a session." He punched in a number and put it on speaker but turned the volume down.

"Bloom, is that you?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's me."

"Thank god. When I couldn't get through to you, I thought you were still at the hospital."

He fell silent.

"Bloom, you aren't at the hospital, are you?"

"I am. With Logan."

"Fuck!" Crowe growled. "Are you one of the hostages? What the hell's going on there? The cops say they had a shootout with the Blue Boys earlier and injured their leader, who they brought to the hospital. How did you end up in this mess? We have nothing to do with the Blue Boys. We avoid each other."

"I can't explain now. For the moment, we're safe. We're in an abandoned wing of the hospital. We were trying to get out via the exit where the construction is happening, but they have that area barricaded. Can you offer backup?"

"I'm sorry, Bloom."

My heart sank with the disappointment that appeared in Bloom's eyes. "It's okay. I'll find a way to get Logan out."

I gritted my teeth. There he went again, implying that I would get out, but what about him?

"Bloom, don't do anything rash. The police are in negotiations with whoever is in charge. They're stalling for backup assistance. You know Smoky Vale PD ain't shit, but they've covered the perimeter of the hospital, so we can't get in. But we're here. We're all here, and we're not going anywhere until you're safely out."

Bloom stared directly at me. "Crowe."

"What?"

"Promise me you won't hate him, regardless of what happens tonight."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Just promise me."

I placed a hand on Bloom's arm. "No."

"I'm not making any such promise," Crowe barked. "You ensure you get your ass out of there safely, and I mean it."

Bloom ended the call and walked away, but I caught his arm and jerked him to a stop. "You listen to me, Bloom. There's no way I'm leaving without you, so you stop acting like you're a damn martyr. We'll figure this out together."

I cupped his face and placed my mouth over his stiff, unyielding lips. He was like stone, not responding, no emotion showing on his face. Just as I was about to release him, he grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me closer. His lips moved against mine hungrily, and a shudder ran through his body. And another one. They didn't stop, and then I understood.

He was as scared as I was, but he'd been conditioned not to show it.

"Baby, we'll get through this. We will."

But even as I reassured him, doubts assailed me. How long did we have before they discovered us?