here.”
Wes pushed his hands through his hair. “So what’s her status now?”
Evan glanced at Talon briefly as some unspoken communication passed between them like a current. “She was touch-and-go,” he admitted. “But the doctors don’t think she’ll need another surgery.”
Wes squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit.”
“Carey’s in there with her now while the doctors check her out,” Evan went on, sipping his coffee.
“Can I see her?”
Evan was just about to answer when the sliding glass doors to the waiting room came open. All three of them looked up at the tall, black-haired man who stopped at the threshold, eyes scanning the waiting room.
Wes stiffened in shock as their eyes clashed.
“I don’t believe it.” The guy he was staring at was fifteen years older than the man he remembered and had the layers-deep tan and squint lines of a man who’d spent years in the desert, but Wes recognized him immediately.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Texas A&M’s worst bartender,” Alejandro de Soto drawled as he strode forward and came to a stop just a few feet away from Wes and the guys. He lazily brushed the snow off the sleeves of his old leather jacket as he considered Wes with the same smirk he’d had way back when they’d been in college together.
Talon and Evan exchanged glances in askance, clearly confused.
“Better than being A&M’s biggest asshole,” Wes replied, bemused.
“Can’t argue that.” Alejandro shrugged before extending his hand. “So you and Wyatt are still together after all this time?” he asked as they shook hands. “Got to admit, I’m surprised. I never thought you’d stick around, Elliott.”
The casual jab sliced a lot deeper than it should have. “And I never thought I’d see you again after you graduated, ranking No. 2 behind her,” Wes answered smoothly, careful not to keep the sting out of his voice. A guy like de Soto lived for the upper hand. No way would Wes give him the satisfaction. Not after all this time.
But what the hell was he doing here?
In all his years, Wes’d never expected to see de Soto again. The guy had been Sam’s nemesis through most of undergrad, the two of them at each other’s throats as they vied for the top spot in A&M’s notoriously difficult ROTC program. They’d thrown down more than once from what Wes recollected. At one point, he’d been certain they would literally kill each other.
Alejandro surprised him by smirking, humor in his pitch-black eyes as he turned his attention to Evan Rush and Lee Talon. “You two must be her guard dogs.”
Evan, so typically easygoing and laid-back, had been simmering for days over a low flame. The mission to kill Ibrahim Nazar, Sam’s ensuing injuries, and his unwillingness to leave her side had culminated into a crucible of angry stress that was just begging for release. And to say that de Soto had a gift for rubbing people the wrong way was putting it lightly. Evan rose to the bait, immediately stepping forward, antagonism coming off of him waves.
“Who’s asking?”
De Soto cocked a brow. “The guy who’s here to do what you two couldn’t.”
Talon made a sound, moving close enough to bump chests with de Soto. “The fuck does that mean?”
“Just what I said,” de Soto replied as they stared each other down. “I’m here to do what you Navy squid punk asses couldn’t. I’m here to protect Sam.”
Chapter 3
December—Mid-Morning
Asklepios Klinik Barmbek, Hamburg, Germany
S A M A N T H A
“I went into shock?” Sam asked after the surgeon left. They were running some additional tests and wanted to keep her in ICU for another day, but things were looking marginally better.
Carey nodded grimly, his lips compressed into a frown bracketed by stress lines. “That’s three times you’ve had to be de-fibbed in two days, Sammy. I swear to God, it’s like you’re trying to give me a heart attack too.”
She gripped his hand tightly. “I’m sorry I