No Ordinary Day | Book 2 | No Ordinary Getaway

unclasped the bandage.
He unwound the bandage slowly and with deliberate movement, careful not to bump the wound. As the gauze peeled away, he leaned in for a closer look. “I’ve got a topical numbing agent.” He picked up a bottle and pulled off the cap. “It won’t eliminate the pain, but it might lessen it a bit.”
Emma nodded and watched as Raymond sprayed it liberally over the wounded area. “Give it a few minutes to take effect.”
Emma closed her eyes as Raymond enlisted Holly to gather towels and another suture kit from the medical bag. After a few minutes, he tapped her on the hand. “I’m going to get started.”
She nodded, eyes still closed. The first nudge of the tweezers caused no pain, only a dissociated pressure like a dentist’s drill after Novocain. But the second they slipped inside the wound, a white-hot poker lanced Emma to the chair. She gripped Gloria’s hand so hard, she heard her friend gasp.
“Please be quick if you can.” The words squeezed out between clenched teeth, barely audible in the quiet cabin.
“I’m trying.”
Spots flew across Emma’s closed eyes in shades of red as she groaned against the pain. Something scraped what must have been bone. She cried out.
“Got it!” Raymond eased the tweezers back as Emma struggled to stay conscious. “Little bugger had wedged itself almost in your humerus. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
A splash of liquid filled the wound and Emma risked opening her eyes.
Raymond pressed a towel to her arm, soaking up the bloodied alcohol. “I’ll close it, but only because we have antibiotics to treat it. Bullet looks intact, no splintering, so you should heal without any issues.”
Relief coursed through Emma and she relaxed her grip on Gloria’s hand.
Her friend shook it out, a shaky smile on her face. “You should take up arm wrestling. With a grip like that, watch out.”
Emma managed to smile, the heady combination of no pain and tequila practically liquefying her entire body. She teetered on the edge of passing out.
Raymond finished closing the wound, using the same method that worked for John—a bandage of sorts with tape on each side and plastic sutures to pull the wound closed. “Had I known we’d be in a series of gunfights, I’d have bought more of these. At this rate, we’ll run out next week.”
Emma reached for Raymond’s hand. “Thank you. Not just for fixing me up, but for taking us all in, even John. You didn’t have to and I owe you more than I can ever repay.”
Raymond glanced at his wife. “Don’t thank me yet on John’s behalf. Jury’s still out on him.” He stood, busying himself with cleaning the mess as an angry voice carried through the bedroom door.
Everyone turned.
“Guess the prisoner’s awake.” Raymond wasted no time as he headed straight for the door.

Chapter Eight


John
John stared at the unconscious, slumped over body of a man he’d known for years. Nick wasn’t the type to clean up another guy’s mess, nor did he enjoy working on a team. But Dane called the shots and whatever he said, Nick did, no questions asked. It was that way on base, deployed, and back home.
Never in a million years did he think he’d be on the opposite side of a member of his own unit. Not once. John ran a hand down his face and turned to stare out at the mountain skyline in the distance. The gravity of the situation weighed heavy on his shoulders.
“When Dane told me you’d gone rogue and abandoned your assignment, I didn’t believe him.” Nick coughed as John turned back to face him. “Guess I owe him an apology.”
“I think we’ve repaid Dane everything we owed and then some, don’t you?”
Nick adjusted himself in the chair, grunting as the tape pulled his skin. “He saved our lives, or don’t you remember?”
“I remember. I also remember how many I’ve taken repaying that obligation.” John spoke in fits and starts, barely spitting the words out. It was one thing to doubt the path he’d been on all these years, another to voice the words out loud, especially to someone who’d lived it, too. “Emma opened my eyes to the truth.”
Nick snorted. “Your mark? That bimbo out there who flinches at the sight of blood?”
John stepped forward.
Nick laughed. “Oh, I get it. She’s done a bit more than open your eyes, huh?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then she’s fair game?”
John threw a brutal right hook, smashing into Nick’s jaw and sending the man and the chair crashing to the floor. Blood welled in the corner of Nick’s mouth.
The door to the bedroom flew back on its hinges and Raymond filled the opening. “What’s going on?”
John shook out his hand. “We’re just getting reacquainted.”
“What he said.” Nick twisted around on the floor to size up the newest arrival. “Ooh, look at you, Mr. Tough Guy. He find you at some club, offer you twenty bucks to be his muscle?”
Raymond stormed forward, but John held out his arm. “I’ve got this.”
“This is my house. I do what I want.”
“Oh, so you’re the personal trainer. I should have known.” Nick ran his tongue over his lip, smearing the blood. “What’s it like to hit that Latina hottie every night? She give as good as she looks?”
John dropped his arm and Raymond advanced, landing a swift boot to Nick’s gut. The man gurgled and choked, blood bubbling from his mouth.
“T-torturing me’s worthless and you know it.” Nick coughed and a wad of red phlegm landed on the floor. “You want to get your rocks off, fine, use me as a punching bag or whatever. But I’m not going to tell you anything you don’t already know.”
Raymond readied for another kick, but John palmed his chest. “He’s right.”
“Don’t touch me.” A vein throbbed in Raymond’s neck as he stared John down.
The last thing he needed was a throwdown with Raymond. Not now, with Nick and whoever else might be tracking them still in play. John lifted his hand. “Nick’s seen more