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She followed his gurney down a wide hallway and into a large trauma room. Once inside the room, the team moved at a pace that could only be described as organized chaos. To her it looked like total confusion, everyone moving in different directions and all talking at once, but to them it was a series of well-choreographed maneuvers. And at the center of the storm was Hudson. She could barely see him through the mass of bodies, but at one point she caught a glimpse of his left hand. It lay unmoving at his side, unadorned of the platinum band she’d slid on his finger only nine days before.

“You can’t be in here,” someone called out.

Allie didn’t move. She didn’t even breathe.

“Ma’am, you need to wait outside,” a man said from beside her.

“There’s so much blood,” she murmured. The room shifted beneath her feet and she swayed.

Hands gripped her shoulders. “Let them do their job. And come sit down. You don’t want them to have to stop because you’ve passed out, now do you?” the man said, gently coaxing Allie back out into the hall. “Here, have a seat. Someone will be out to update you as soon as we know more.”

She took a seat on a padded vinyl chair at the nurse’s station, but kept her eyes trained on the closed trauma room door. No one came in or out, yet she knew that despite the room’s calm exterior, inside the team of professionals was still working hard to keep the man she loved alive. Or maybe it was over. Maybe they had lost him, and instead of an update someone was going to come out of that room at any minute to tell her she was a widow. Tears brimmed her eyes as she rocked back and forth in her seat, willing them not to fail. Please . . . please save him . . .

Behind her the automatic doors swung open on a sharp buzz.

“Allie!” Nick jogged toward her. His hand was linked with Harper’s, and even from where she sat Allie could see his white-knuckle grip. “What’s going on? Max’s message said to meet you at the ER, but he didn’t tell me what the fuck happened.”

She stood and took a deep breath, trying to find the strength to say the words out loud. “Hudson was shot,” was all she managed to squeeze past the lump in her throat.

The blood drained from Nick’s face. “How bad is it?”

Allie blinked away her tears. She had to be strong for Nick. No matter what the outcome in the room behind them, Nick was her family. And just like Hudson, she would do anything for him. “I don’t know yet,” she said, trying her best to keep her voice level. “They’re still working on him.”

Nick ran a hand back through his hair. “How the fuck did this happen?” The nurse at the station looked up from her computer monitor and Nick lowered his voice. “My brother doesn’t live in a world where people get fucking shot.” His head snapped up, and Allie saw realization dawn. Guilt flashed in Nick’s eyes. He swallowed hard, and when he spoke his voice was barely a whisper. “Is this because of me?”

“No.” Allie shook her head emphatically. “It’s my fault. Your brother is lying in there because of me.” A commotion at the end of the hall stopped her from explaining any further. The door to the trauma room opened and a young doctor in blood-splattered hospital scrubs approached.

“I’m Doctor Weber,” he said, glancing between Allie and Nick. “Is one of you Mr. Chase’s next of kin?”

Allie took a step forward. “I’m his wife.” Behind her she heard an audible gasp escape Harper’s lips and a mumbled Fuck from under Nick’s breath.

“Your husband lost a lot of blood,” the doctor said. That much she knew already. What she didn’t know was if he was going to be all right. The man standing before her had the ability to give her hope or bring her world crashing down around her. Time ground to a halt as she waited for him to tell her if the man she loved was still alive. “The bullet missed the hilum of the lung, which is a good thing.”

Allie nodded as though she understood. But in reality all she clung to was the word “good.”

“However, a pulmonary injury of this nature can still be very serious. The chest tube we put in is filling with a lot of blood, but we won’t know the extent of the injuries until they get him into the OR.”

“He needs surgery?” she asked.

“Yes. They’re taking him up now.”

As if on cue the double doors swung open. Several people rushed alongside the gurney as they wheeled Hudson down the hall. He was so still, too still, and covered with tubes that at the moment were the only things keeping him alive. Allie’s hand flew to her mouth as they passed by, holding in the sob that silently racked her small frame. If she let it out, she didn’t think she would ever be able to stop.

“We’ll know more once they can see the damage.” The doctor continued talking, explaining how the lungs were extremely vascular and how they were essentially sponges filled with gas. Allie listened, trying to take in the complicated medical jargon he was translating into layman’s terms. But all she could think about was Hudson, in a room somewhere above them, being prepped for surgery by a team who quite literally held his life in their hands.

“But they can fix him, right?” Nick’s heartfelt words broke through the fog of fear that clogged her mind. His question was simple and straight to the point, and really the only one that mattered.

“Doctor Katz is doing the surgery. She’s one of the best in the world.”

Allie wondered briefly if it was a coincidence that a world-renowned surgeon just happened to be on hand. “How long before we’ll know anything?” she asked.

“Surgeries like these can take anywhere from four to six hours, depending on how extensive the repair. There’s a waiting room for families on the same floor as the OR. The surgeon will come out to update you as soon as Mr. Chase is taken to recovery.”

“Alessandra.”

Allie turned to find Ben Weiss standing behind her. The sight of him nearly took her breath away. He looked so much like her father, easily passing for a real uncle and not just the kind you called by that name because he was such a close family friend. It was too much. This time, when her eyes brimmed with tears, she could do nothing to hold them back.

“I had the Ingram helicopter pick up Elena Katz,” he said. “They landed on the hospital’s helipad a few minutes ago.”

“Thank you,” she said, hugging the man who had been a constant source of quiet strength the past few months. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re welcome.” His eyes crinkled in a weak smile. “And did I hear congratulations are in order, Mrs. Chase?”

“We planned to tell everyone. But with everything that’s been going on, it was . . . complicated.”

“Obviously.” A deep crease formed between his brow. “Max bought you some time with the police, but they’re going to want to interview you as soon as possible. I won’t be able to hold them off for very long. And the press coverage is twice what it was after . . .” He stopped talking and drew a deep breath. “I’m going to need you to tell me everything, Alessandra.”

Nick pushed away from the wall where he’d stood slumped in a quiet conversation with Harper. “That goes for me too. Starting with who the hell shot my brother and ending with when you two got hitched.”

Her gaze shifted to Harper. Under any other circumstance she would have been all over Allie, pumping her for details after complaining about being denied the opportunity to meet hot groomsmen. But instead she stood quietly next to Nick, fear and worry written all over her face. Her uncharacteristic silence was an unnerving reminder of the gravity of the situation.

“It’s a long story,” Allie said.

Nick slung his arm around her shoulder. “Well, according to that doc, we’ve got a few hours to spend with our asses parked on plastic chairs. Let’s head on up and you can start from the beginning.”