Page 90 of Dozer

His hand moves across the floor. Slow. Searching. I catch it immediately. His fingers close around mine. Weak compared with the grip I'm used to, but there. I squeeze hard enough that under any other circumstances he'd complain. He doesn't.

"I said there's an after," he murmurs.

"And I told you I'm holding you to it."

"Bossy."

"Oh, you have no idea how bossy I'm about to become."

His thumb moves once over my knuckles. It wrecks me more thoroughly than the blood. Because it's him. Even now, even bleeding, even with every reason in the world to turn inward against the pain, he's trying to comfort me.

"You held the line," I whisper.

"You made the line matter."

My breath catches. There it is. The whole thing between us in five words. He holds the line. I make it matter. And somewhere along the way we stop being two people trying to survive the same mission and become something I no longer know how to separate.

“I love you,” he tells me and closes his eyes.

Oh no. Absolutely not. He’s not going to say I love you and then go unconscious before I can say it back. "Ghost!" I shout. "I need you now. Dozer's hit bad."

Footsteps answer. Ghost is there within seconds, dropping beside us, and then everything becomes motion. Hunter is there with medics. Police are everywhere. People are shouting commands. There are hands reaching for Dozer.

I don't want to move. I can’t move.

"Ma’am." One of the medics looks at me. "We need access."

"I know."

But Dozer is still holding my hand. Or I'm holding his. I'm not sure there's a difference anymore.

I bend closer before they move him, forehead nearly touching his. "Listen to me. You do not get to make me trust there's an after and then leave me to have it by myself. You don’t get to tell me you love me and not survive to hear me say it back.”

He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t open his eyes. My heart is breaking.

They move him. I go with them. Nobody tells me not to. Smart people. They wouldn’t like the outcome of trying.

The ambulance is controlled urgency with the medics working frantically around me. I stay near his head. My hand stays in his whenever the medics don't need it out of the way.

Outside, the world is discovering Senator Cole's secrets. I’m sure phones are ringing, newsrooms are exploding, senators are being briefed and federal agencies are probably having the worst morning of their institutional lives. I hope Cole is under arrest. I hope he hasn’t fled the country already. He has the money to do just that.

I don't care. Not right now.

"We did it," I say quietly to Dozer and hope he can hear it. "You did it."

My throat closes. I lean down, press my forehead briefly against the back of his hand. "You'd better be right about this after."

"I don't say things—" I hear the words come weakly from him. He’s conscious and I just about weep from joy from hearing his voice.

"I know." I look at him. "You don't say things you don't believe."

His eyes hold mine. "Believe this too."

"What?"

His thumb brushes my hand once. "We're not done. I love you."

“I love you, too.”