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“And?” he prompted when she didn’t continue.
“He’s still unconscious,” she said reluctantly. “He lost a lot of blood.”
Panic seized Mathieu and he released her wrist, taking a deep breath. “You’ll make sure he’s alright.” He didn’t say anything else because she already knew there were no other options. “I want to see him.”
“Boss, let her make sure you’re all good first,” Jason spoke up.
Fine, Mathieu could do that. Turned out he’d knocked his head pretty hard when he fell. There was a nasty cut on the left side, just above his ear. Samirah changed his bandages, those on his head and his left leg where something sharp had sliced him. She’d sewn him up. What must it feel like, he wondered, having to save the life of someone you hated?
Samirah wanted him to take pain meds but he ignored her, only reluctantly downing the antibiotics she held out to him. Something about her reminded him of his sister at that moment and his chest constricted. Then she left, expression tight with displeasure because he absolutely was going to ignore her advice, was going to get out of bed, and he for fucking sure was going to see Win.
Jason helped him dress and before they left the room, he turned to Mathieu. “I need to tell you—”
“You found me at the house?” Mathieu asked him.
“Yeah, I followed you.” Jason shook his head, rubbing his jaw. “Didn’t have a good feeling about you being out there alone.”
Guess his intuition was right. “What did you do with Jairo’s body?” If Mathieu had his way, he’d dump that motherfucker in the landfill.
Jason’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? Jairo was there?”
It was Mathieu’s turn to be confused. “Jairo and two of his lackeys. They all died when the bomb—”
But Jason shook his head. “I only found you and two other dead guys.” He slowly sank onto the edge of the bed Mathieu just vacated. “Jairo was nowhere around.”
Son of a bitch! Did someone take his body? “I watched him die,” Mathieu told Jason. “I watched him fly backward into the wall and not move when the explosion went off.”
Jason stared at him. “I thought he’d been the one to set off the explosion.”
“No. Uh-Uh. That wasn’t Jairo.” But could it have been? “Right before I passed out, I saw someone dressed in black creeping away. Whoever the culprit was, they’d been there. They stayed behind to witness their handy work.”
“And you don’t think it was Jairo? That he put someone up to it?”
He didn’t think so, but what the fuck did he know right now? Nothing made sense. Why would Jairo bomb his own house and kill his own men? Just to get at Mathieu? And if it hadn’t been Jairo’s doing, whose was it and what happened to Jairo’s body? “Fuck.” Mathieu rubbed his temple. “I need to figure this shit out, but right now I need to see Win.”
“Uh, so the bodyguard is gone.”
Mathieu stopped mid-stride on the way to the door. “Repeat that?”
“Win’s bodyguard, Linc, is missing. I left him chained up and under heavy guard when I followed you. When I came back, the guards told me he’s gone and they don’t know how or even when.”
“What the fuck?” Fury turned his body hot and made his head throb even more. “Goddamn it, Jason,” he gritted out. “I want him found. Now.”
“Already on it.”
Christ. Felt like there were a million fires all needing his attention, all waiting for him to put them out, and all he wanted was to find Win. To touch him, make sure he was alive. That was all he wanted. “Anything else I need to know?”
Jason shrugged. “It can wait.”
Mathieu didn’t bother asking. He trusted Jason to fill him in on the most urgent matters. And Jason knew him enough to know what he needed, so the other man helped him down the hallway to Win’s room with a hand on his shoulder, Mathieu limping and leaning heavily on him. At the door, Jason opened it and stood back for Mathieu to enter, then remained out in the hallway, closing the door behind Mathieu.
Win lay in the bed on his back, an IV in his arm, eyes closed. He looked so pale, brow creased as if he was still in pain. Samirah said they just had to wait for him to wake up. Mathieu didn’t know if he had that kind of patience. His leg hurt like a motherfucker with every movement, and his head wouldn’t cease its throbbing. He got onto the bed next to Win, on the side where he wasn’t hooked up to anything, and snuggled up as close as he could without hurting the unconscious man. Ignoring the dull pain in his arms when he lifted them, he brushed his knuckles over Win’s cheek and jaw. He was so warm. And so still. It scared the fuck out of Mathieu.
“Everything’s a mess,” he murmured. “I’ve got so many things needing my attention, but I just wanna hide away with you. I just want to be here with you. Open your eyes and tell me to fuck off.” His lips quirked. “I won’t, of course, but I’ll love you all the more for it.”
Win didn’t open his eyes.
Mathieu touched a tentative hand to the other man’s chest, just to feel his heartbeat. His breath stuttered in his lungs when he felt it so steady and strong. Proof that Win was still with him.
