Page 86 of In Too Deep
He couldn’t think about that.Couldn’t let his mind go to that dark place or he’d lose this careful control.
Noah shifted and positioned himself between Meg and the weapon.His injured leg screamed in protest—a white-hot lance of pain shooting from ankle to hip.The bandage she’d just applied pulled tight.
“She let my Lydia die.”The man’s voice cracked on the last word—raw and jagged.“She needs to answer for that.”
“The report says different.”Noah took another careful half step forward with his weight on his good leg.He tested the distance and calculated angles.“Lydia’s death wasn’t Meg’s fault.”
“I don’t care what some report says.”Ryan’s hand tightened on the gun.The tendons stood out in stark relief.“I know what happened.Jeremy told me everything.She had a panic attack.She froze while my baby was dying, and when she finally tried to help, it was too late.She used the wrong technique, punctured Lydia’s lung?—”
“That’s not what happened at all.”Noah cut in, his voice sharper now and authoritative.Behind him, he could feel Meg’s presence, could almost hear her breath catching, could sense the way she’d gone rigid.
“The trauma to Lydia’s chest was too severe.The bleeding around her heart?—”
“She made it worse!”The words exploded out of Ryan, raw and jagged.The gun wavered slightly with the force of his emotion.“Lydia was still breathing.Still had a pulse.And then this—thisdoctor”—the word came out like a curse—“tried some procedure she had no business attempting in a cave and punctured her lung.My baby girl drowned in her own blood because of her.”
“Listen to me.”Noah’s mind raced and tried to find the right words.The ones that would defuse instead of escalate.The ones that would keep Meg alive.“The cardiac arrest was what killed Lydia.Dr.Lewis was trying to save her.”
“She failed.”Ryan’s voice flattened out into a dead, even tone.The kind of calm that came when someone had already made their decision.“And she needs to pay for that failure.You rangers—you protect each other.That report was whitewashed.But I know the truth.Jeremy told me everything.”
The gun steadied.
“Look, I understand you’re grieving?—”
“Don’t tell me what I’m feeling!”Ryan’s voice echoed off the cave walls and bounced back multiplied.Alex stirred behind them and moaned softly.“You don’t know me.”
Noah’s chest tightened.His heart hammered so hard he could feel it in his throat.“The bleeding around her heart?—”
“Was manageable if she’d gotten proper care in time!”Ryan’s voice rose to a shout.“But instead, she got a doctor who panicked, who froze, who made everything worse.How she just stood there at first, shaking, useless.Jeremy described it all to me.Then when she did start to work, Jeremy told her that they needed to get Lydia out of the cave first.But she waited, insisted on treating her there, and then there was another cave-in.”
Behind Noah, Meg made a sound—small and broken.
He wanted to turn to her, to tell her Ryan was wrong, that Jeremy had twisted everything.But he couldn’t take his eyes off the gun.Couldn’t give Ryan an opening.
Noah’s jaw clenched.He knew what the report had actually said—that Lydia’s injuries were ultimately fatal regardless.That pericardial tamponade didn’t care how fast you worked or how skilled you were.That sometimes people died and it wasn’t anyone’s fault.
But grief didn’t care about facts.
Grief needed someone to blame.Needed a target.Needed to make sense of senseless loss.
Ryan’s eyes narrowed and studied Noah for the first time.“Now move before I shoot you and let her watch you die.”
Noah was now within one step of the guy.Close enough to smell his sweat.Close enough to see the tears streaking through the cave dust on his face.
He didn’t think.
Just moved.
In one movement, he grabbed the hand with the gun and forced it upward toward the cave ceiling, then launched himself forward.They went down hard, with Noah’s bulk—six-four and two hundred pounds of muscle—driving the older man backward into the stone wall.
The gun went off.
The deafening sound seemed to pulse through his body and vibrate his skull as limestone dust rained down from above, where the bullet had struck.Noah grappled for the weapon, his fingers closing around Ryan’s wrist and squeezing.
Meg was moving behind him, her voice calling his name—sharp and panicked.
She needed to get farther away in case there was another stray bullet.
Ryan was stronger than he looked—wiry and desperate, fueled by grief and rage.They struggled for the gun, their bodies pressed together and their breath coming in gasps.Noah’s leg gave out—the injured joint folding like paper—and he stumbled.Ryan took advantage and drove an elbow into his ribs.
