Page 89 of Freeing Lark

Spark glanced at the cuts. Then at Cormac. Lark glared at the pair, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re ordering medical treatment for me while you’re the one with a gunshot wound?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes, something she seemed to do a lot around him. “Whatever, stubborn man.”

Spark shook his head. “Hopeless.” Then he cleaned Lark’s wrists and the cuts along her arms and legs from the river with careful efficiency. He applied an antibiotic cream and wrapped the worst injuries.

Then someone handed her a bakery bag. “Eat. Marilyn sent it.” Inside were her favorite muffins and cookies. Lark devoured the first one in no time. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was.

“Slow down,” Cormac murmured, chowing down on his own muffins.

She looked at him. “There is no slow when it comes to Aunt Marilyn’s muffins.”

His mouth curved. “There she is.”

“I’ve been here the whole time,” she quipped.

“Since I’ve been out for most of our two days here, I wouldn’t know.”

That’s when Lark realized the horrifying truth. Two days. It had been two days since she’d gone to the island. Two days since she’d been captured. She had no idea how much time had gone by.

While grappling with that reality, she listened as Cormac explained everything he’d learned. His precise descriptions of the men left her in awe. The details that he was able to recall of the whole incident, including the count of how many crates he’d seen, were equally as impressive. He had observed things that even she, who’d been there longer, had overlooked.

Flint listened while typing rapidly on his phone.

“They’re still out there,” Cormac said.

“I know.” Flint looked up. “Jeeves. Voodoo. Eggs. Take the eastern perimeter.” The three men immediately headed back into the storm. No complaints. No hesitation.

Lark watched them disappear. These men were insane. And somehow, that was reassuring.

Once Cormac was loaded into an SUV, the team began the trip toward civilization.

“I’ll need to find the boats,” Hoot mused as Spark drove and Flint continued to type on his phone.

“They’ve been handled.”

“Mine and Lark’s?”

“Both.” Cormac relaxed slightly. Then he looked at Flint. “Should probably call Marilyn.” Lark’s heart squeezed. She hadn’t even thought about her aunt.

“She’s meeting us at the hospital,” Flint replied, surprising Lark. She couldn’t thank him enough for thinking of her like that.

Lark’s eyes filled. Cormac noticed immediately. He reached for her hand. She gave it to him. He lifted it carefully and kissed the back of her fingers. “It’s going to be okay.”

Flint glanced toward the back seat. “Oh, hell. Another one bites the dust.”

Lark laughed through her tears. Flint shook his head. “Pretty soon I’ll have to start running a couples’ retreat instead of a security company.”

Cormac flipped him off. Flint grinned. “Yep. Definitely recovering.”

The hospital was chaos. Lark was separated from Cormac almost immediately. She hated it. But Spark stayed with her. Then Marilyn arrived with a change of clothes. She nearly crushed Lark in a hug before shooing her off to get cleaned up.

Cammie and Savannah came soon after, bringing more reassurance and enough conversation to keep Lark from completely falling apart. But worry kept creeping back in. What if she’d damaged Cormac’s shoulder? What if she’d pulled the bullet out incorrectly? What if she’d harmed something important? His career depended on his body. His shoulder. His ability to move and fight. To protect people. She’d been desperate. She’d done what she thought she had to do. But what if she’d made things worse?

“Lark.” Marilyn’s voice pulled her back.

“I’m fine.”