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“You did great,” Quaid assured him.
“Thank you.” He focused back on Elizabeth. “Is your Hays all right?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. Tears streaked down her face.
They burst out the front door and jogged to a nearby Lincoln Navigator. She recognized Paul Braven opening her door.
“Thank you, Jarom,” Quaid said, shutting her door and then clapping the man on the shoulder.
She lifted a hand to Jarom as he stood watching them. Aiden conversed with a police officer who looked as if he wanted to stop them for questioning.
Quaid hurried around and slid into the opposite seat. Paul and Aiden jumped in up front. They drove away from the mansion.
Hays. Oh, Hays. Was he dying? He’d fought Peter. He’d protected her. He loved her. She wasn’t in her father’s power, but even that relief paled in comparison to her stress over Hays.
Please, someone in heaven. Save Hays.
She’d wanted to give her life for him. What if it was the other way around? How would she go on living?
“Lizzie.” Quaid’s voice brought her head around. “I’m here.”
He didn’t promise her Hays would live, but her brother was here for her.
“Father?” she squeaked out.
“One of his helicopters took out Aiden’s.”
She nodded. She’d seen that.
“They lowered a basket and covered his escape with all that gunfire.” Quaid’s voice was bitter. He looked at her, and his gaze softened. “At least they didn’t get you. I was fighting with one of Father’s guards, but I saw you fighting and Hays coming for you. You were very brave, Lizzie. I’m grateful you’re safe.” His voice broke, and he looked away.
Elizabeth hated these bucket seats. She unbuckled her seat belt, kneeled on the floor, and grasped her brother’s hand.
“Ah, Lizzie.” Quaid wrapped his arm around her, holding her to his side. “Dear Lord,” he prayed. “Thank You for keeping Lizzie out of our father’s grasp. Thank You for all the brave men and women who fought evil tonight. Please be with the loved ones of those who gave their lives. We also beg of You. Please. Spare Hays.”
Elizabeth echoed the prayer in her mind. She was turning to heaven, desperate for Hays to live. She could admit it was miraculous those guards didn’t get her into the helicopter basket with her father, that somehow Hays fought and won against Peter and the other guards when he was bleeding from that vicious stomach wound.
But Hays … Did she have any faith that he’d survive? She couldn’t lean on his faith or cling to him.
Please. Tears wet her brother’s shirt as she leaned into him. Please let him live.
Chapter
Twenty
Hays was in a mist of darkness. There was no pain, no real consciousness.
Was he dead?
A voice drifted in and out and sometimes he felt the pressure of soft fingers. Liz. He fought to get through the mist and be with her again. His Liz. She was all that mattered.
He heard other voices. His parents. His sisters and brother-in-law. Jagger. Belinda. Shawn. Julie. His closest friends on earth. Was he joining Mercedes? The words they spoke sounded like he was.
He fought harder. Liz. He had to be there for her. That was the only thing he really understood.
She was there. The pressure of her soft hand on top of his. Why couldn’t he turn his hand over and hold hers?
“Hays,” she said. Her beautiful voice soothed him. He tried to open his eyes and look at her, but he couldn’t.
