“No, it’s not,” Vander bit out. “Hunt will be fine. He’s a tough sonofabitch, and one of the best Delta soldiers I ever worked with. He’s going to be pissed, and I’m feeling pissed, myself. This asshole doesn’t get to hurt you, or my friends, or terrorize my city.”
Vander’s cold, lethal tone made Savannah’s chest lock.
“I’ll take you to the hospital.” Then Vander closed the distance between them and cupped her cheek. “You’re safe, Savannah. Walkson’s reign of fucking terror is over. I’ll do everything I can to help Hunt take the fucker down.”
“Thanks, Vander,” she murmured.
“Let’s go.”
Haven hugged her, then Vander bundled her into a black BMW X6.
The drive to the hospital was a blur. Her heart beat hard in her ears. Hunt could’ve died. He could still die. How badly was he hurt? She twisted her hands together in her lap. Terror carved up her insides.
“Did you tell his brothers?” she asked.
“I called them. Camden was out on a job for me, but he’ll meet us at the hospital.”
“Walkson is sneaky. He never comes head-on, and he likes being cunning, and conning everybody.”
“He’s done. I’ll either see him dead, or locked up.”
She eyed him curiously. “Hunt must give you the ‘you can’t do that because I’m a detective’ speech pretty often?”
The corner of Vander’s lips twitched. “All the time. I bribe him with bourbon.”
“Blanton Gold.”
“That, and sometimes a bottle of George T. Stagg.”
“Sounds expensive.”
“It costs about twelve hundred dollars a bottle.”
She choked. “Jesus.”
Vander smiled. “Don’t ask Easton about his collection. Hunt secretly covets the Stagg, but anything too expensive makes him twitchy.” Vander’s hands flexed. “He’ll be fine.”
Savannah prayed that that was true.
Vander pulled in at the hospital. He kept her close to his side, his dark gaze scanning everyone who passed them as they headed into the building.
He talked to someone at the nurses’ desk, but Savannah still couldn’t focus. He led her into a private waiting room.
A small crowd had gathered.
There were several cops, many in uniform, but some in suits. Brynn hurried over and hugged Vander, lines of worry digging into her face. Then she let Vander go and hugged Savannah.
Savannah quickly got over her surprise and clung to the woman.
“He will be fine,” Brynn said. “I know it.”
Savannah wished she felt so confident.
Ryder and Cam appeared, both radiating deadly intensity.
“He was shot in the arm,” Cam said. “Bastard who shot him was aiming for his chest, but Hunt moved at the last minute.”
Savannah gasped, and locked her shaky knees.
Ryder slung an arm over her shoulders. “He’ll be all right. That last mission, his knee was a mess, and he walked for miles and carried out an injured teammate.”
“That sounds like Hunt,” she said.
The door burst open, and a tall, older woman with carefully dyed, ash-blonde hair hurried in.
She spotted Ryder and Cam, and hurried to them.
“Mom.” Camden caught the woman.
There were tears in her eyes and she fought them back. “How is he?”
“No news yet.” Ryder said. “Other than we know he got hit in the arm, and he’s conscious.”
Mrs. Morgan blew out a breath. “Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad.” Then her gaze fell on Savannah and she fought not to fidget.
“Ryder, are you seeing someone and didn’t tell me?” There was a hopeful note in the woman’s voice.
Despite the circumstances, Ryder grinned. “As much as I’d like to say yes, Savannah’s not mine. She belongs to Hunt.”
Mrs. Morgan’s eyes—the same green that she’d given her sons—widened. “Oh.” Her smile bloomed. “I’m Delia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” She stepped forward and hugged Savannah.
“You, too. I’m so sorry about Hunter.”
“Hunter. You call him Hunter.” Mrs. Morgan stared at her for a beat, then waved a hand. “It’s not your fault. Hunt will catch whoever did this, and Vander will help.” Her voice was matter-of-fact.
Vander inclined his head.
“I think it’s my fault,” Savannah confessed. “I have a stalker, and I think he did this.”
Mrs. Morgan squeezed Savannah’s hand, her gaze dropping to Savannah’s bruised neck, and something sparked in her eyes. “That doesn’t make it your fault.”
The internal doors opened, and a young, male doctor in blue scrubs entered. “Hunter Morgan?”
Everyone in the room turned.
“Ah, his family?” the doctor added.
Ryder and Cam moved, and Mrs. Morgan grabbed Savannah’s hand and yanked her forward.
“How’s my son?” Mrs. Morgan asked.
“He’s stable. The gunshot cut across his arm, and there’s no permanent damage. He’s lucky.”
“He’s okay,” Ryder announced to the room.
The cops broke out in cheers.
“Can we see him?” Mrs. Morgan asked.
“Family only, for now,” the doctor said.
“Come on.” Hunt’s mom kept a tight grip on Savannah.
“Mrs. Morgan, I—”
Cam took her other arm. Ryder nudged her back.
“Let’s move, beautiful,” the paramedic said.
Chapter Eleven
Hunt shifted on the bed, fighting off his annoyance. The nurse checked his vitals, then fussed with the bandage on his arm.
“I think it’s good.” He did his best to temper his voice. He’d been shot before; more than once, in fact.
Savannah would panic. Again, she’d get it in her head that she had to protect him and try to run. His pulse spiked. What if she slipped away?
Vander had her. No one could slip past Vander.
“You need to rest, Detective,” the nurse said. “And take your pain meds.”
He knew the drill. He was just glad he hadn’t needed surgery.
The door opened. His mom led the charge, but Hunt’s gaze went straight to Savannah. She was wedged between his brothers, her face pale, and her lips pressed tightly together.
Hunt swung his legs over the bed.
“Detective,” the nurse squawked.
He took two steps and yanked Savannah into his arms. “You aren’t leaving, and this is not your fault.”
“Hunter…” A near soundless whisper. Then her arms wrapped around him and held tight.
That was better. He looked over her head. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hunt.” She leaned close and touched his cheek. Her worried look melted away as she watched him and Savannah. A smile touched her lips.
Delia Morgan had been a cop’s wife. She’d had three sons in the military. She was made of sturdy stuff.
Even after she’d lost her husband to a stroke, she’d never faltered. His mom was like a rock. The foundation of their family.