Chapter 24

A week later, I'm woken up in the middle of the night by someone roughly shaking my shoulder.

"Nicole, get up," Kent says frantically, shaking me relentlessly. "Hurry. It's Ty."

I snap to attention immediately, throwing off my covers and scrambling for my robe, years of medical training having honed me to be instantly alert under these circumstances.

"What is it?" I ask. I scrape my tousled hair back from my face and secure it with a band, then tuck a headband on top to keep any stray hairs out of my face.

"He's been shot," Kent says, his breathing ragged. I realize suddenly that Kent is crying, "Oh, my god, Nick, there's so much blood. I wanted to take him to the hospital, but I'm afraid that if I do–"

"No, I understand," I say. This has been a source of conflict between Kent and me – disagreeing on when someone should come to me and when they should go to the hospital, consequences be damned. But now is not the time – Ty is here, and I need to get moving.

"Kent, calm down. It's going to be okay." I pray that that's true, but I have to say something. Kent is a wreck. "Grab my emergency medical bag from the hall closet and meet me downstairs."

I dash down to the kitchen, where several loud and panicked voices are talking over one another. Ty is slumped in a kitchen chair, clutching his side with a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. He looks up at me dully.

"All right, everyone," I bark, leaping into crisis mode. "I want everyone except Ty and Torsten out of here. Torsten, what happened?"

Torsten used to be a nurse, and I'm going to need his assistance.

"Gunshot would to his left side," Torsten says, already scrubbing up at the kitchen sink. "Nick, I swear to god, I don't think the bullet went in very far, and I don't think it hit anything major. I think it's a flesh wound. If I thought otherwise, I would've made them go to the hospital."

"It's okay," I say. "He's here now. Get him on the kitchen table while I scrub up."

Torsten snaps on the gloves that are already on the countertop and helps Ty shift. Ty moans in pain.

"It's okay, Ty," I say calmly over my shoulder. "We're going to get you fixed up in just a minute here." I finish scrubbing and put on my own gloves, then reach for the med kit that a shaking Kent has brought into the kitchen and spread out onto the counter.

I find a syringe and a few medications I need – pain relief, for one thing, and a shot of antibiotics to be safe. I prep them smoothly and grab the rubbing alcohol.

"A couple of shots, Ty, to help you get more comfortable and to fight off any infections," I say, administering the shots quickly and cleanly into Ty's arm. "Now, let's see what we're working with here."

I lift up his T-shirt carefully, peeling the fabric away from the wound. The blood is already drying, making it a little sticky and hard to see. I probe the wound and grab a small flashlight to help me see better.

Kent is hovering anxiously in the doorway, bobbing from one foot to the other in a way that's very distracting.

"Kent, I need you to take a seat in the far corner," I say without looking up. "You can stay, but you've got to sit still and be quiet. I need to focus."

Kent says nothing, just grabs a chair and pulls it across the room to sit.

Torsten is prepping some cloths for me, and I sponge the dried blood away from Ty's side, moving as gently as I can. I peer again with the flashlight, and I'm flooded with relief.

"It's okay," I say to everyone in the room, but especially to Ty. "Ty, I know this hurts, but you're very, very lucky. The bullet has only gone about an inch into your stomach. It hurts like hell, I know, but you're not in any danger. You just need to be cleaned up a bit."

Kent barks out a loud sob of relief and buries his head in his hands. Torsten visibly relaxes, muttering what I assume is a silent prayer while looking up at the ceiling.

"You made the right call, Tor," I say, understanding his relief. It was his call – if Ty died, he'd have to carry that with him for the rest of his life. "Get me the tweezers, please."

I move to look directly into Ty's eyes. He looks terrified, which is understandable.

"We'll get this bullet out, clean the wound, and get you bandaged up, Ty. You're going to be just fine, I promise," I say. "I know it hurts, but I'm going to give you some really good pain meds, and you get to spend a week or two off your feet and playing video games on the couch. Kent will have to wait on you hand and foot."

Ty manages to give me a weak grin, and Kent gives a wet chuckle from behind me.

"Anything he wants," Kent says. "God damn it, thank you Jesus. This is all my fault."

"We can talk about it later," I say in an even, comforting tone. "Right now, the important thing is that Ty is going to be just fine." I reach out for the sterilized tweezers that Torsten is offering. "This is going to hurt, Ty; just take a deep breath and hold it. It'll be over in a second."

I get the bullet out in one piece, letting loose another private sigh of relief under my breath as soon as I do. I didn't want to worry anybody else, but the only real danger left was if the bullet had broken up in the wound. Thankfully, that didn't turn out to be the case.

It's a simple process from there to clean the wound and bandage it neatly. I give Ty another couple of shots, plus a sedative. He's already drifting off, the adrenaline crash and the meds working to wipe him out.

I call the other guys back into the kitchen and instruct them to get Ty out of his bloody clothes and into a clean bed. Then I help Torsten and Kent clean up the kitchen, after telling Kent to put on a very strong pot of coffee for us all.

I'm feeling both exhausted and on top of the world. This is the first time I've leapt into action in a medical emergency since I lost my license, except of course the time at the soup kitchen with Marcus.

Marcus – I still haven't seen him at the mansion, though I know it must be coming eventually. I've heard through the staff grapevine that he's dating some society woman – Libby or Lydia, something like that. The jealousy I felt when I heard that news was so intense that I could hardly keep a neutral face.

I both want to avoid him, and desperately want to see him. I can't help but wonder if he'd recognize me, or if he'd fall in love with Evelyn in the same way he seemed ready to fall in love with Nicole. I don't know if that would be a good outcome, or a horrible one.

Impatient with the way that my stomach flutters at the thought, I shove all schemes about Marcus out of my mind. I need to focus on the here and now. It's part of my job.

"Could do with something stronger," Kent mutters, and I silently point to the cabinet above the stove that holds the whiskey.

"Irish coffee – good call, doc," Kent flashes me a forced smile and gets down the Jameson.

Once we're all sat around the table, holding hot cups of boozy coffee in our hands to warm them, I look to Kent.

"What the hell happened?" I ask softly. Kent hangs his head.

"Drug exchange gone wrong," Kent says. "I knew we shouldn't trust that buyer. He seemed dodgy from the start. When it was time to hand over the money, he whipped out his piece and shot Ty.

"Thank god he was standing far back enough – I don't know why he didn't try to shoot me, to be honest. I was closer, and I was holding the drugs."

"He must have known that Ty was going to be the weakest link," I murmur thoughtfully, staring into my coffee. "By which I mean, Ty is the one whose injuries would take all of you out of commission, due to worrying about him. It even seems like killing him wasn't the goal."

"But why?" Kent asks, sounding baffled.

"I'm not sure," I say. "But honestly? It reminds me of – well, it reminds me of something I think Charles would do. It sounds like his kind of move."

The room falls silent. Kent and Torsten both stare at me, suspicion overtaking their faces.

"I need to look into that buyer again," Kent finally says, taking a long sip of his Irish coffee. "If Charles is involved in this, he just declared war."