Rush: A MacKenzie Family Novella (The MacKenzie Family) by Robin Covington Page B

thought that he’d broken his promise to Livvy.
     

Chapter Fourteen
    Even wearing one of the ridiculous hospital gowns, Atticus still looked invincible.
    And sexy.
    In fact, he was the best thing she’d seen in a very long time.
    The IV hooked to his arm and the beeping machines assured them all that he was breathing and all his organs were working like they should.  The staff had attempted to clean him up as best they could but he still had streaks of dark red across his collarbone and right cheek. He was a little pale under the dark tone of his skin but he looked better than he had a couple of hours earlier. A couple bags of blood made a huge difference and she was finally able to breathe deeply.
    The time between the phone call telling her he’d been shot and when the doctor gave him the “all clear” had taken years off her life. At least a full decade. For the time it had taken Carla to drive her to the hospital, her heart had stopped beating at least a dozen times and she’d worried that he was also gone and her body somehow knew. She never wanted to feel that way again.
    Her anger at being restrained and left behind was still there but the fear of losing him and subsequent exhilaration of knowing he would be okay had watered down the fury to a dull, resigned thud. He was Atticus and he would never change. He wouldn’t explain and he wouldn’t talk to her. Trying to get him to change was as futile as a caged bird beating its wings and thinking it could fly.
    Olivia shifted in the moderately comfortable chair, stretching her neck and back. She picked up the cup of coffee, took a sip and grimaced at the cold beverage before leaning over to toss it into the trash. Glancing at the clock on the wall, she eased out of the chair and walked to the window, gently pushing aside the blinds to look at the DC skyline shining white and gleaming against the dark backdrop of the night sky.
    “You had a chance to zip-tie me to the bed and you missed it.”
    Olivia’s heart stuttered and then thudded against her chest. She reached out and steadied herself against the shallow window ledge, a brief press of her suddenly heat-flushed flesh against the cool of the window glass.
    “A lady never kicks a man when he’s down.”
    “The Queen would be proud.” The sharp inhale of breath from Atticus as he shifted behind her prompted her to move to his side. Olivia reached out, hands hovering over him since she was unsure about the help he needed from her. Knowing Atticus, he didn’t need, or want, anything from her.
    “What can I do?”
    “I’m good. I’m good,” he insisted as he moved slowly, inching into a sitting position. She motioned toward the controller, which would elevate the head of his bed, and he gave a quick nod. She pulsed the button and the mattress shifted upward.
    “Thank you.” He looked down and picked at the IV tubing and growled. “This is ridiculous. It was just a flesh wound. I’ve had worse.”
    “It was more than a flesh wound and the nurse said you lost a lot of blood and they were worried about your vitals.” Olivia reached out and lightly brushed a finger over the white bandage spanning the area between his collarbone, shoulder, and upper chest area and then lifted it to the one covering the side of his head, dangerously close to his temple. “We were all worried when you wouldn't wake up.”
    She tried to head off the catch in her throat, to blink back the tears testing her waterproof mascara. But hell, he’d scared her. The thought of losing him… Atticus wasn’t part of her life, but the thought of a world without him in it made her blood run cold and her heart calcify.
    “It will take more than some Colombian assholes to end me,” he murmured, his own hand reaching up to capture hers as she lowered it. The unspoken words— please don’t cry on me —hovered in the air between them. They stared at each other for a few moments and she found it impossible to read whatever was going