Then memories of the explosion flashed through him again. The signs. The noise. The realization. The utter terror of knowing what was about to happen and the equal certainty that he had no way of getting Jaz away before it did. Pulling Jaz away to arm’s length, he ran his palms over her face, her shoulders, over the arm in a sling. His breath caught. “How bad is it?”
“Not bad, considering some big oaf slammed me into the ground and nearly dislocated my shoulder,” she said with a smile. “The sling is just for sympathy.”
Liam’s finger slid to Jaz’s shoulder at once, catching her wince as he probed her collarbone and moved lower. His chest tightened. The damn sling wasn’t for sympathy.
“She’s all right. Some abrasions and a tweaked muscle, but she’ll be able to compete.” Ivy put her hand on Liam’s chest and firmly pushed back a step. Ivy might be on the quieter side in the wild, but here in a hospital, the small emergency room doc was clearly a force to be reckoned with. The hard look she leveled at Liam now made him remember that as Kyan’s wife, Ivy had practice taming belligerent SEALs.
“You, on the other hand, took some shrapnel and a hell of a concussion,” Ivy informed him. “If one of the big pieces had hit elsewhere on your body, you could’ve been in serious trouble. Fortunately for you, nothing vital was hit, and it didn’t dig in as deep as they’d originally feared. Still, the blow from the explosion knocked you unconscious, so they’re going to keep you overnight for observation.”
“I’m not staying here overnight,” Liam said.
“I’m sorry.” Ivy gave him a smile. “I think I might have given you the mistaken impression that this is a democracy and you get a vote.”
“I do get a vote. I’m the patient.” Liam crossed his arms over his chest, which was a mistake. But he’d be damned if he’d let the discomfort show on his face. “And since when do you have admission privileges in Denver, Dr. West-Keasley?”
Ivy snorted. Although she wasn’t wearing a white medical coat, she looked every inch the in-charge physician. “I’ve got something more powerful than admission privileges. I have friends and a phone. Push me, and I’ll check if you aren’t due for a colonoscopy as long as you’re here.”
Liam narrowed his eyes and then decided she wasn’t kidding. “You play dirty,” he said, walking himself back to sit on the edge of the bed. But that was as much as he was willing to compromise. He was not changing back into a gown.
Ivy waved her slender hand at him. “Now reattach all the toys you pulled off while I go talk your nurse down from the ledge.” She turned to Jaz. “If he tries to make a run for it, whack him right over that big bandage beneath the left shoulder blade. You won’t do much damage, but he’ll scream loudly enough for help to show.”
Liam stared at the door for a few seconds after Ivy departed, then glanced over at Jaz, who was making a strong effort to keep a straight face.
“Don’t worry, I’m waving a white flag,” he said darkly as he reattached the IV and started on the EKG wires. “I know when I’m outgunned. That woman is…scary.”
Jaz chuckled, the smile lighting up her face and eyes. Lighting up the room. “It’s always the quiet ones.” Smile fading, she pulled a chair over to sit near Liam. “The Denver police are looking into what happened, but they have no idea. Of course, the guys are running a parallel investigation. I’m sure they’ll be barging in through the door any moment, but I wanted… I wanted to say thank you. For saving my life today. A few more steps and…” She swallowed, a small shudder running through her.
He shook his head firmly. “Let’s not go down that road.”
“Especially since it may not be accurate.” Inviting himself into the room, Cullen held the door open for his wife, Sky, his competent gaze surveying Liam from head to foot.
Liam straightened his back beneath the scrutiny.
Cullen snorted, but then let it go at that. None of them were strangers to seeing friends in hospital rooms, and there was an unspoken agreement to keep the how are you feeling discussions to a minimum. Especially since they were all medics who could read a medical chart. Cullen leaned against the wall.
“I took the liberty of dragging Aiden and Trident Security’s tech geeks into this while you were napping,” Cullen said. “Also, Eli is helping with the blast analysis. It was some sophisticated wiring. Military grade, not amateur crap. And best we can tell so far, it didn’t kill you because it wasn’t meant to.”
“So a proverbial warning shot across the bow?” Liam turned his head toward the door that was once again opening. “Keasley. Welcome to the party.”
Kyan nodded, his gaze, like Cullen’s, scanning Liam from head to toe. Unlike Cullen, however, Kyan’s visual interrogation continued on to Jaz and then to the proximity between her and Liam. Though Kyan said nothing, the temperature in the place seemed to drop several degrees.
Sky cleared her throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “So, about that shot across the bow—look what came off the wire a few minutes ago.” She tapped the screen of the iPad she carried and held it out to Liam, who read the short article aloud.
LEAD FEMALE CLIMBER AND GIRLS AFLAME SUPPORTER NEARLY IN FLAMES
Jazmine Keasley, a female rock-climbing star and avid Girls Aflame supporter, was nearly caught in an explosion that destroyed a vehicle at the Adventure World Outdoor Fair in Denver, Colorado. Keasley’s warp-speed flight to the top of the climbing world has caused many a skeptic to raise a brow, wondering whether some sort of backroom deal didn’t help her achieve her position. Now, it appears someone has taken their verbal criticism one step further.
27
Liam
Liam leaned over the ballistic reports scattered over the battleship-gray L-shaped desk in his home office, the rare night noise of a sleeping city seeping in through the windows. His watch claimed it was nearing two in the morning, but he wasn’t ready to sleep yet, especially since whatever Ivy had snuck into his IV had knocked him out for hours in the hospital and didn’t let up on the drive home either. Only now did he finally feel like he had his full wits about him, and those he intended to put to good use.
Shifting his coffee mug to his nondominant left hand, he inhaled the bold roast aroma and indulged in a slow sip. He’d dispensed with the heavy-duty pain meds the pharmacy had handed him, the extra-strength ibuprofen doing well enough to keep discomfort in check. Objectively speaking, he’d been in a great deal more pain going through Hell Week in SEAL training. The docs were right—he’s been damn lucky. And he hated relying on luck.
With his right hand, Liam scrolled through the intel his security company had gathered about the many haters Jaz seemed to have gathered. As the now-familiar images flickered across the computer screen, Liam shook his head. It all didn’t add up. There had been no signs of surveillance. No uptick in chatter. The threatening note to Jaz’s parents did use the same “in flames” word play, but that was hardly original. From everything Trident had profiled about the note sender, it was an emotional, mentally unstable individual. The explosion was the work of a cool professional. It didn’t add up.