Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series (44 page)

Quinn turned away, grabbed the lantern, and pulled it closer to check Sam’s wound.
The cheap cloth of the dress ripped as he pulled at it. She had a deep gash on the
right side of her abdomen, just below her rib cage. Until he could get her to a hospital
for a CT scan, he wouldn’t know for sure if her liver or bowel—or both—had been punctured.

Forcing his mind to ignore that this woman was his life was almost impossible. The
only thing keeping him from going berserk was the knowledge that if he failed, Sam
died. That stark truth focused him like nothing else could.

He tore off his jacket and then his shirt. Folding the shirt, he again pressed firmly
over the wound to slow the bleeding and then covered her with his jacket. Her skin
was ice cold and clammy. Hypothermia was almost as much a concern as her wound.

Zach materialized beside him. “How is she?”

“I won’t know till I can get her to a hospital.”

“Here.” Zach handed him a blanket. “Stretcher’s coming. Someone’s bringing your medical
kit, too.”

Quinn covered her with the blanket and then pressed his fingers against her neck to
feel her pulse. Rapid, a little thready. Her respiration was slightly elevated. As
soon as he had his blood pressure kit, he’d be able to determine more.

“Quinn?” Sam whispered softly.

“Shh. I’m here, baby. You’re going to be fine.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I’m not lying. You will be fine. I promise.” And then because he could no longer
hold back the words, he leaned over her and said softly, “I love you, Sam.”

She seemed to stop breathing for a second and then she whispered, “Like I said … a
terrible liar.”

Her eyes closed. Checking her pulse again, Quinn’s breath rushed out in relief. She
had passed out, nothing more.

He heard several loud footsteps behind him and looked over his shoulder. Two men were
holding a canvas stretcher much like the army used to carry their wounded. As he helped
them lift Sam onto the gurney, he glanced over to where his brother lay.

“He’s dead,” Zach said.

Nodding, Quinn turned away. He’d deal with that later. Now he had only one thing on
his mind. Keeping Sam alive.

She was floating. Pain existed but was distant. Voices surrounded her, some familiar,
some not. Dimly, she knew she had been injured. How and why she didn’t know and somehow
she thought maybe that was best.

She’d heard Quinn’s voice, hoarse and strained. And Savvy’s, too, though it sounded
thick, like she’d been crying. And once she thought she’d heard Aunt Gibby’s quivering
voice.

Her eyes felt like they’d been sewn shut. She told them to open and they refused.
As awareness came, her vague thoughts coalesced into a solid reality. Crap, there
was the pain. Though everything seemed to ache, there were two distinct throbs, one
in her back and the other in her stomach.

Once again she told her eyes to open. And dammit, they refused. Opening her mouth
to verbally issue a command, all she heard was this strange moan.

“Sammie? Oh my gosh, Sammie, you’re waking up. You’re going to be fine.” A hand squeezed
hers and for the first time she realized someone had been holding her hand all along.
Savvy?

“Quinn’s right outside, talking to the doctor. I’ll be right back.”

Quinn? Was he okay? She wasn’t quite sure why she thought something might have hurt
him, but for some
reason, her heart thudded and dread washed over her. But Savvy had said he was right
outside, which meant he was fine.

She heard the sound of the door opening and the thud of footsteps. Even with closed
eyes, she knew Quinn had entered the room. When a large, warm hand gripped hers, she
wanted to smile her relief that he was okay, but couldn’t gather the energy.

“Sam?” The voice was definitely his but again it sounded hoarse. Maybe he had a cold.
Was that why she had been worried?

“Sam, open your eyes and look at me.”

She wanted to see him … she really did. Straining with effort, her eyelids flickered
and she saw a minuscule glimpse of light.

“That’s it, sweetheart.”

Encouraged, she continued to fight against the incredible weakness that seemed to
have taken over her entire body. A couple more flickers and finally she got them open
enough to see Quinn’s unshaven face and bloodshot eyes. He looked as though he’d been
to hell and back more than once.

Then an amazing transformation took place as a smile of pure joy lit his face. Never
had he looked more dear or handsome to her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Was that tiny little voice really hers?

“You’re in the hospital. You were injured but you’re going to be fine.”

Hurt? How? She frowned. What had happened? Car wreck? Her muddled mind scrambled for
knowledge and facts.

“Sammie, it’s okay that you can’t remember. It’ll come back to you soon.”

Turning her head slightly, she realized that Savvy was on the other side of the bed.
She looked exhausted, too.
Her eyes were puffy and her mouth trembled as if she were trying to keep from crying.
“Savvy, you’re okay?”

“I’m fine … Little Bit, too.” Her wobbling mouth tilted into a smile. “We’ve just
been so worried about you.”

“Bri … here?”

“Yes …” Savvy looked over her shoulder and then turned back to say, “She just stepped
out for a few minutes.”

“What happened?”

“All that can be discussed later,” Quinn said.

Her eyes returned to the man who held her hand. “Sleepy.”

“I know you are. Go back to sleep. When you wake up, you’ll feel much better. I promise.”

As if she’d been waiting for permission, Samantha closed her eyes again. Quinn’s stubble
brushed her forehead as he kissed her gently. And despite not knowing the reason for
her injuries, she fell into a deep sleep, oddly content.

Quinn allowed himself one last look at Sam before he went out the door. She was going
to be fine. He had known that hours ago but it wasn’t until she opened her eyes that
he gave himself permission to feel the slightest amount of relief. He had come so
close to losing her.

It hadn’t been until they were in the car, headed back to Midnight, that he’d realized
she had a wound in her back. Less deep than the one in her abdomen, but her blood
loss had been greater than he had feared.

They’d made it back to Midnight in record time. A medical helicopter had been waiting
and had transported them to Mobile in a matter of minutes. Zach had made the call
immediately after Sam had been stabbed. His quick thinking had saved her life.

The stab to her stomach had missed her liver by less than an inch. His entire body
jolted every time he thought about how close she had been to dying.

Now that he knew Sam would be all right, he had some massive cleanup to do. Atlanta
PD had been notified and wanted to talk with him. Dalton had admitted to Charlene’s
murder but it was the necklace around Sam’s neck that would prove his guilt. Once
the questions were dealt with in Atlanta, he would face his parents … no, correction,
he would face Edward and Geneva. They weren’t his parents, and of all the shit that
had happened in the last twenty-four hours, that was one piece of good news. And Dalton
wasn’t his brother. Knowing he didn’t have the taint of their blood inside him was
incredibly freeing.

Quinn turned to Savannah, who had dropped into a chair in the hallway. “You’ll call
me if anything happens?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. I hope you can get things in order quickly, though. She’s
going to want to talk to you as soon as she’s conscious again.”

“I’ll do my best. When she wakes, call me on my cellphone.”

“Your brother’s body won’t be ready for release for a couple more days,” Zach said
as he ambled down the hallway toward them.

Quinn knew he owed this man everything. Because of the police chief’s professionalism,
Samantha was alive. And Zach’s willingness to allow the townspeople to participate
had been crucial. One of them had shot Dalton, saving both his and Sam’s lives.

He held out his hand to shake Zach’s. “Thank you for all you did.”

Zach nodded and returned the handshake. He then sat down beside his wife and pulled
her toward him. “You feeling okay, babe?”

Savannah nodded. “I’m fine.” Her smile reminding him of Sam’s, she added, “Now that
I know Sammie’s going to be okay, I feel like a ton of bricks has been lifted off
of me.”

Zach kissed the top of Savannah’s head. “As soon as Bri comes back, I want you to
go home and get some rest.”

Worry returned to Savannah’s eyes. “Something’s going on with her but she won’t talk
to me.”

“She will,” Zach said.

“You know what it is?”

“Not much but a little. Give her some leeway. Okay?”

She blew out a shaky breath and nodded. “Okay.”

Quinn glanced down at his watch. He needed to get going, but holy hell, he didn’t
want to leave. “I should get to Atlanta by mid-morning. Once I’m through there, I’ll
probably head up to Virginia for a quick stop before coming back here. I’ll try to
get back as soon as possible.”

Zach nodded. “I talked with Detective Murphy. Told him I’d fax my report to them.
Hopefully this will wrap up any doubts about who killed your ex-wife. When you get
back, we’ll need to discuss the Daytons and their friends. I’m not inclined to give
them much of a break.”

“Neither am I,” Quinn said grimly. “Without their help, Dalton wouldn’t have been
able to get to Sam.”

Quinn glanced back at Sam’s hospital room door. He was so tempted to go back in, just
for another glimpse. But the sooner he left, hopefully the sooner he could return
for good.

Turning back to Savannah, he said, “Tell Sam I’ll call her.”

“I will. Have a safe trip.”

Walking out of the hospital was one of the most difficult
things he’d ever done. He didn’t want to leave but he had no choice. He just hoped
to hell Sam understood.

“Have you talked to Quinn today?” Savvy asked.

Samantha rose slowly from the chair beside her bedroom window. Staring out of it for
endless hours was pointless, but since she’d been home that’s all she seemed to be
able to do.

“No. He usually calls by this time.” She couldn’t hide the disappointment. Even though
their conversations were often stilted and one-sided, she looked forward to them.
His daily phone calls were the only contact she’d had with him since that first night
in the hospital.

“Do you know when he’s coming back?”

Her gaze turned toward the window again. “He hasn’t said.”

“I still don’t understand why you’re mad at him, Sammie. I’m sure he’s doing everything
he can to get back as soon as possible.”

“I’m not mad, I’m just …” She was what? Listless? Tired? Lonely? Yes to all of those.
She had no energy, no drive. Never had she felt so apathetic. She’d gotten out of
the hospital two days ago, and so far all she wanted to do was sit around and mope.
Not that she wanted to run a marathon, but a little energy would be nice.

“Once he gets back, you’ll be able to sort out what’s wrong.”

Would she? What was there to sort out? Nothing had changed. She and Quinn had gone
through a life-altering experience, but from what she could tell, it hadn’t altered
their lives one bit. He was still the same, and other than a couple of scars, so was
she.

Savvy’s sigh was so loud it echoed through the room.
“I wish at least one of my sisters would tell me what’s wrong. For the first time
ever, I feel like a stranger to both of you.”

“Oh, Savvy, I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I guess I’m just kind of sad that after
everything that’s happened, Quinn and I are back to where we started.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because when we talk on the phone, it’s all businesslike. ‘How are you feeling? Any
unusual soreness? Weakness?’ I feel as though he’s my doctor, not my lover. Like that’s
our only connection.”

“I’m sure he has a lot on his mind.”

Guilt sliced at Samantha. Truer words were never said. Quinn’s life had been upended.
His parents weren’t his parents; his brother, who he’d thought was dead, wasn’t really
his brother. And two women were dead. Not to mention the fact that she had almost
died, too.

“I know I’m not being fair. I guess if I had seen him after I started recovering,
I’d feel better. And I know he had issues to handle, so I’m not blaming him. I just
wish things could be different.”

“Have you changed your mind about being with him?”

“No. If there’s one thing I did learn, it’s that you have to appreciate every moment.
I love Quinn and that’s just going to have to be enough.”

“But he told you he loved you, Sammie. You remembered everything, including that.”

“He thought I was dying. And he’s not said anything like that since.”

“Well, maybe he wants to say it to you in person.”

“Or maybe, since he thought I was dying and …” She couldn’t finish the sentence. She
was too scared to even hope. If she kept telling herself that nothing had changed,
at least she wouldn’t be disappointed.

“Don’t lose hope, Sammie. If you had seen him when
they brought you to the hospital, you wouldn’t doubt his feelings.”

Quinn did have deep feelings for her, she knew that much. But did they have staying
power? The kind that would see them through rough patches? Was the love he professed
the type to build a future on, or was it the kind that weakened when times got tough
and fizzled out eventually? She knew her feelings were strong enough to weather any
storm … but were Quinn’s?

Needing to focus on something other than her potential heartache, she said, “So you’ve
still not been able to get anything out of Bri?”

“No. She just made that one announcement that Cruz was dead and Lauren was no longer
in danger.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I have no idea. I’ve read the news reports. They just claim Cruz was found washed
up on the beach with a bullet hole in his head. No suspects so far, but the man had
plenty of enemies.”