Page 111 of Finding Kenna
Kenna lay still, not daring to even breathe. She was in pain—but she was alive.
“Kenna!”
She’d never heard a sound so beautiful in her entire life.
Swallowing a moan, she rolled onto her back and looked up at the man she loved with all her heart.
“Kenna, talk to me! Are you all right? Shit, your chin is bleeding!”
She smiled. Rain was falling into her eyes, making her blink rapidly. Her arm hurt. Her head hurt where Shawn had hit her. Her chin throbbed. But she was still breathing. As was Marshall.
So she felt fucking fantastic.
Reaching up, she wrapped her hand around the back of Marshall’s neck and pulled him toward her. “Told you I didn’t need a man,” she said weakly, her voice a little wobbly. Then she kissed him as if her life depended on it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Aleck growled at the nurse as she finished stitching his leg. All he wanted was to take Kenna home. He’d insisted on waiting to have his leg looked at until she’d been taken care of. The sand had helped cushion her fall somewhat, and somehow she’d escaped any wounds on her back from the bomb, but she’d managed to break open the skin on her chin. The wound had to be cleaned, since there had been sand packed inside it, then stitched. He’d held her hand throughout the procedure, refusing to let go.
He’d almost lost her.
He’d seen the moment she’d made the decision to do something, and he’d never been so scared in his life.
But she’d timed her escape perfectly. Shawn had stumbled when a wave crashed into them. He’d struggled to maintain his balance for a few precious seconds—long enough for Kenna to reach the beach.
The last decision Shawn made in his miserable life was to aim his pistol at Kenna as she fled.
The officers hadn’t hesitated, shooting several rounds at Shawn.
Aleck had enough time to yell “down!” before all hell broke loose.
It turned out Shawn hadn’t been lying about the amount of ANFO he’d used. Luckily, he’d fallen backward into the angry sea, another wave crashing over his body just as the fuse had been triggered. Anything less and the explosion most likely would’ve taken out Duke’s, as well as a huge chunk of the Outrigger resort. But the water helped to essentially muffle the blast.
Still, there was a huge crater in the sand, and parts of Shawn’s body were strewn over the beach. But the hostage situation had ended with no other deaths.
Aleck had run toward Kenna’s motionless body with his heart in his throat. She’d rolled over and smiled at him, the feel of her hand on the back of his neck bringing tears to his eyes. But it wasn’t until she’d kissed him hard and deep that he’d truly comprehended she was all right.
And now that she’d been stitched up, it was his turn. Aleck hated hospitals. He would’ve preferred to let Pid or Jag close up the gash from Shawn’s bullet grazing his leg, but Kenna wasn’t having it. And because he would do anything for the woman he loved, he caved.
“Don’t be a baby,” she said, smiling at him.
“The biggest, baddest men usually are,” the nurse said with a chuckle.
Aleck barely heard them. He couldn’t stop staring at Kenna. Her hair was in complete disarray and still filled with sand. She’d been given a set of scrubs to change into that swamped her frame. She looked tired and dark circles shadowed her eyes…but she was alive and in one piece. Aleck couldn’t ask for anything more.
The nurse finished stitching his leg and said she’d be back in a moment, leaving Aleck and Kenna alone in the small examination room.
Before he could move, before he could pull Kenna into his arms and simply hold her, the curtain was thrown back and his team filed in.
Mustang, Midas, Slate, Jag, Pid—even Baker fucking Rawlins—were all suddenly there.
Aleck swallowed hard at the emotion that balled in his throat at seeing his team.
He had no idea how they’d talked their way into being allowed back there, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He sat up on the table and swung his legs over the edge, ignoring the twinge of pain. Kenna snuggled into his side and the second he touched her, Aleck felt as if he could finally relax.
“Damn good to see you alive and not in a million pieces,” Pid said.
“That was fucked up,” Jag muttered, running a hand through his hair.
