“I know. I doubt the guy would be dumb enough to leave some, but you never know.” He paused. “I need to take it with us. You think you can walk back the way we came?”
“As long as I’m not dodging bullets, I think I can handle it.” Her words sounded more sure than she actually felt.
“Okay. Stay put for a minute.”
He approached the drone, his posture wary, his movements slow. Ava watched, her stomach in a knot, praying it wasn’t a trap. Caden pulled off his T-shirt, tossed it over the machine, and waited. Ava almost expected the thing to jerk to life and start shooting again, but nothing happened.
Some of Caden’s tension must have eased, because his shoulders relaxed a fraction. Ava could tell he wasn’t making any assumptions, though. He pulled the shirt away and moved closer, staying to the side, out of the path of any bullets that might still be in the weapon.
With care, he placed the shirt over the machine again, then stepped around behind it and unplugged the battery. Ava released a low breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. He picked up the drone with a grunt.
The sirens had quieted, and Ava figured they’d found Caden’s truck. “You lead the way,” she said. “I’ll keep up.”
Caden nodded, his worried gaze slipping over her in a quick assessment, pausing briefly on her bloodied left arm.
“Go,” she said, her voice soft.
He nodded and headed back down the trail he’d blazed on their run from the drone. Ava bit her lip on the throbbing that pulsed through her arm, her head, and her cheek. She could complain later. For now, she’d concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.
Caden couldn’t help casting glances over his shoulder at Ava. He was worried. While she stayed with him, she kept her head down and her breathing seemed too shallow for his peace of mind. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
“Probably not.”
About what he figured.
After another minute of walking, when he glanced back, she stumbled and latched on to a tree. He set the drone down and reached for her. Snagging her good upper arm, he pulled her against him. “We’re almost there. I’ll send someone back for the drone. Let me help you.”
“No. Just give me a minute. The world is kinda spinning.”
“Put your arm around my waist.”
“I—”
“Unless you want me to carry you.”
Her right arm went around his waist. From the road, he could hear the commotion—people talking, engines running, radios crackling. She gripped a handful of his shirt and wobbled once more. Caden swept her up into his arms.
“Caden!”
“Give it up, Ava. Kind of like you did dating.”
She groaned—a sound that was half laugh, half protest—and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Fine.”
Caden carried her the rest of the way. As he broke the tree line, the first person he saw was Zane. He wasn’t surprised one bit. If the roles had been reversed, he’d have gotten off his deathbed to help too.
Zane, red-nosed but looking slightly improved, hurried toward them. “Way to scare a partner, man.”
“Yeah.”
“Ambulance is one minute out.”
“And the drone is about a two-minute hike north through those trees. Just follow the trail I left.”
“Drone?”
“It’s a quadrotor outfitted with a machine gun. I unplugged the battery, but be careful.”
Zane’s eyes widened. “She catch a bullet from the drone?”
“I’m still awake, guys,” Ava said, sounding slightly annoyed. “Yes, Zane, the bullet from the drone grazed me, but I’m fine.”
“That’s a relief.”
“No kidding.”
She shut her eyes and Caden could feel the tension running through her. She was in pain. A head wound from the truck crash, a bullet to the arm. Even the scratch from the branch on her cheek. All of it had to add up to severely uncomfortable. And she simply lay in his arms with her eyes closed.
“They found Mickey Fields,” Zane said.
“What? Where?” The ambulance pulled up and Caden headed straight for it.
Zane followed. “He’s in the hospital. He’s been shot.”
“Shot?” Ava’s head lifted. “Seems to be a lot of that going around. Is he okay?”
“He’s alive.”
“Which hospital?” Caden asked.
“Mercy One.”
Ava turned her head and groaned when he stepped up to the ambulance.
Caden shot her a frown. “Don’t even say you don’t need to have that arm—and head and cheek—looked at.”
“I’m not.”
“Good.” He looked at the paramedic who’d run around to open the back. “Don’t bother pulling anything out. Head to Mercy.”
“But—”
“You can check her on the way.” He climbed in with Ava still in his arms. With the paramedic’s help, he got all the way in with only a small grunt.
“You did not just imply that I’m too heavy, did you?” Ava’s words were slurred, her eyes bleary. Caden knew her well enough to understand where the snarkiness was coming from. Whenever she was scared or in pain, she got snippy.
He set her on the stretcher. “Never.”
“I should hope not.” She turned her head to the paramedic, who had already begun to remove the bandage on her left arm. “No painkillers, understand?”
“An addict?”
She laughed, a breathy, sarcastic sound. “No. A target. I need to be aware of my surroundings.”
Caden gripped her hand. “I’m here, Ava. Let him give you something—” Her gaze never wavered from his. He glanced up at the paramedic. “No narcotics.”
He nodded.
Just as the ambulance started to move, a fist pounded on the passenger door. The paramedic lowered his window, and Caden heard a cough, then “Here, take this.” The man handed the items back to Caden. Ava’s purse and Caden’s cell phone. He smiled.
Ava gave a relieved sigh. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am someone thought to grab that.”
“It was Zane. I could tell by the cough.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were rolling her out of the ambulance and into the hospital. They bypassed the waiting area and were led straight back to a room.
Zane appeared shortly after, coughing into his elbow and looking miserable once more.
“You might want to get checked out while you’re here,” Caden told him.
Zane shot him a look that should have sent him six feet under. “It’s a cold. A miserable cold. Patty insisted on examining me and said I’m just a wimp, but she gave me cough meds and a steroid shot to keep it from turning into bronchitis.”
Caden shook his head. “Go home. We’re fine. And I don’t want to be breathing your air.”
“You need a bodyguard or something. Every time I turn around you two are in trouble.”
“Funny.” He sobered. “I don’t know what’s going on, Zane. Has Daria found anything else with the Russian connection? She hasn’t texted me—or if she has, I missed it.”