22. Brent

CHAPTER 22

brENT

The distinct metallic smell of blood and the sound of John's panicked speech registered and broke through the unconscious state I was in. I could hear his fear in the panicked words emergency and ambulance coming from him in a tone I'd never forget. It was the same tone GQ used when Nate was dying in his arms.

I felt his hands on my body as he kneeled to turn me over. My head ached, and blood ran down my face and into my eyes, leaving my vision skewed. I could feel the immediate throb of a headache.

"Brent, god can you hear me, baby, please," he pleaded as he ripped his t-shirt over his head and brought it to my forehead.

Somehow, I managed to open my eyes just enough to register where I was and when the sound of sirens registered again. John was looking for something, running his hands all over me. But he was wrong.

"Not…shot," I groaned as I tried to move.

"Baby, oh god, baby, you're awake. Thank god. Be still. Don't move."

I brought my hand up to touch the sticky mass of bloody t-shirt on my forehead.

"Were you hit?" he asked, hovering over me.

I shook my head just enough for him to get the message because that fucking hurt. "No. Landed weird. Hit my head."

John carefully picked me up enough to cradle me in his arms. The side of my head rested against his chest while my lower body remained on the pavement. I winced at the noise and closed my eyes as the sirens got closer.

"Stay with me, baby. I'm right here. Help is on the way."

My eyes closed on their own and things were a little fuzzy from that point on.

I heard vehicle doors opening, equipment being moved, and the sound of feet pounding the pavement. The conversations of two or three people talking that I zoned out on, the familiar sirens of police cars, and John's rapidly beating heart in my ear all battled for my attention. But it was the sound of his heartbeat that won out. I could listen to it for the rest of my life.

"He's conscious," John said as he shifted me from his chest. "But his forehead is bleeding pretty bad."

I opened my eyes when the shirt was removed and the voice of a much calmer paramedic filled my ears. Her voice was firm, yet soft. I bet she was a mama. "Brent, do you know what day it is?"

I nodded. "Sunday."

"Good. Can you tell me how this happened?" she asked.

"I told you how it happened," John barked. "He doesn't need to be talking."

I released a half-laugh half-huff at his remark. Looking at her, she ignored him to pay attention to me. "He's just protective."

He grunted and then got up from the ground when the paramedics moved in to work on me. I told her what I knew as I watched the police officers approach John.

The paramedic got my attention again before they moved me to the gurney. "We're taking you in to get you cleaned up and checked out. That cut on your forehead is still bleeding, so we're going to let the doctor make the call."

I closed my eyes as they moved me carefully to the gurney and strapped me to the board. The tight bands around me were nothing like John's arms, and I missed them. But thankfully the bumpy ride to the ambulance was short-lived.

"I'm going with him," John told one of them from outside the truck. "He's my husband."

The lady paramedic patted my shoulder but looked at John. "Do you have a shirt you can put on?"

I watched as he looked back at the condo. "I need two seconds to grab one. Do not leave without me."

She nodded then patted me on the shoulder. "We'll take good care of you, I promise."

Two hours later, I sat reclined on a bed in the ER. A plastic surgeon had been called to stitch up the area on my forehead, and the other doctor ordered a CT of my head. John stayed by my side the entire time along with Dare and Phantom. But the minute Simon Kincaid walked into my room, John began asking for an MRI. He'd been using Doctor Google even though I told him not to.

"Commander," Simon replied, putting his hand on his shoulder, "the CT will show us everything we need. But if anything unusual appears, I'll order one. Okay?"

John looked from me then back to Simon. "Okay. If you're sure."

I smiled, knowing the kind of doctor Simon was. He had a reputation for being a hardass, and I hoped John remembered what I'd told him about Alex Hayes' concussion.

"I have a reputation to live up to. I'm a Navy man myself with a teenager and one in training. Not to mention a stubborn former linebacker for a husband. It's like having three children sometimes."

There was no missing the fondness for his family in his tone. He was trying to reassure John, who kept his eyes on me.

"He's like a teenager sometimes too. I've got my hands full."

Simon chuckled. "I can imagine. But you love him anyway."

John laughed while I was busy turning red. How did he know about us?

"I'm going to go see if I can get radiology to move a bit faster. Hang in there a little longer. I can admit you if you'd be more comfortable."

"Fuck no," I said. "I'll have my own personal nurse. He's used to taking care of me."

Simon nodded. "Okay. I'll be back."

He walked out of the room as Daredevil and Phantom stood guard by the door like I was some kind of dignitary. Dare looked furious and probably blamed himself for not having my six, but it wasn't his responsibility anymore. Phantom typed away on his phone, probably already working on finding the car.

"You two don't have to stand guard. Commander's here."

"The fuck we don't," Dare said. "Someone tried to shoot you, Brent. And we're not going anywhere until we catch that motherfucker."

"Won't be long," Phantom added. "The asshole must not be from around here. It won't be hard to track him down with all the cameras."

"Think it was Turner? He's the only one I think I've pissed off lately."

"And we'll be stopping that shit," John added, making me smile and my friends laugh.

Phantom shook his head. "Not likely to be him. The Rush have been in Cleveland for the last two days."

His phone pinged with a string of messages. Three phones from around the room started pinging with text messages from the group chat. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was GQ since he was the only one of us not present.

Phantom laughed at whatever he was reading, but my best friend didn't bother to pick up his phone. Neither did the man of my dreams.

"They're on their way back. Said he'll be here to check on you as soon as he can."

Simon walked into the room carrying a stack of papers. "Everything looks good, but you are definitely concussed. I'll let you go home as long as you're not alone."

John looked at me when he replied to Simon. "If I have my way about it, he'll never be alone again."