The Brink (Unbroken Raine Falling 3)

Alarm clanging through her, she turned to Hammer, her expression silently asking what was wrong.

He laid a finger over his lips for silence, then snaked his fist into her hair. He tugged, tipping her head back slightly before crushing her lips under his own. A rush of desire thundered through her, sizzling her even more when he swiped his tongue over the seam of her lips, demanding entry. Raine opened for him, and Macen delved deep, sweeping inside for a thorough, sweltering kiss.

But what if Macen’s affection upset Liam even more?

With a soft whimper, Raine pulled back and blinked at Hammer, searching for answers.

He skimmed his lips up her neck, across her jaw, and worked toward her ear. “Everything is fine, precious.”

“He’s upset,” she whispered with a shake of her head.

“None of us got much sleep last night,” he murmured in hushed tones. “Not every bad mood means we’re pushing you away. Give him a little time.”

What Hammer said made sense. Sometimes her moods weren’t stellar, and that was no reflection of her feelings for Hammer or Liam. He was a man, so not every thought was about her, the three of them, or the future. Hell, he might simply be cranky because he hadn’t had a hot breakfast yet. Though Liam had seemed fine when they’d awakened her, she had to trust that Hammer wouldn’t lie, especially if Liam had doubts about them.

For the next ninety minutes, the miles slipped past. Once Raine finished her tea in the uncomfortable silence, she set the empty cup in the holder attached to the back of the console, then reclined her head and tried to nod off as the droning tires hummed along the road.

To her frustration, she couldn’t sleep. The silence grated. She didn’t expect everyone to be chipper before seven a.m. But this morning’s hush was nothing like the teasing, bawdy conversation they’d had on the way up the mountain. Instead, Seth had his head tipped back as if he was catching some Z’s. Beck probably had work on his mind since it had called him away. Hammer didn’t usually have much to say in the morning. All true…but the utter void of sound, along with Liam’s odd demeanor, kept her worries bubbling.

Hoping for a distraction, she leaned forward and cocked her head in Beck’s direction. “So, what kind of surgery is your emergency?”

“A heart transplant,” Beck offered. “My patient’s been waiting over a year for the right match to come along. He’s lucky. Too many die before they make it to the top of the donor list.”

“I bet he’s grateful but he must be scared.”

“Sure. But I’ve talked with him more than once about how the procedure works. He and his family knew if a donor heart became available, we’d have to move fast.” Beck shot a glance at her through the rearview mirror. “The donor will be taken off life support about noon Eastern. We’re expecting the organ to arrive a few hours later.”

Raine nodded. No wonder everyone had been in such a rush to head back. “It’s a complicated surgery, right?”

“It is, but I’ve had plenty of experience with transplants. This patient needs it bad. His heart looks like a liver.”

She frowned. “How long will it take?”

“That all depends. Each one is different, but the norm is around four hours, barring any complications. I won’t know until I slice open his chest and slide in the spreader—”

“Are you taking your play to work now?” she teased, then sobered. Beck might actually be perverse enough to take an implement intended to keep a sub’s thighs parted and use it on someone needing a new ticker.

“Funny. I meant the kind of spreader that pries open the rib cage.”

She knew, but it was fun to yank his chain. “I’m shocked people actually trust you to fix them once the anesthesia has kicked in. There they are, all helpless and at Dr. Sadist’s mercy.”

“Don’t be a smartass, or are you eager to have another ‘chat’ with my rubber paddle?”

Raine flinched. “No. Not even a whisper.”

Beck laughed. “Once I have the patient open, I can really get busy. After I’ve secured the bypass and cut the aorta, I need to get a good cross-clamp going. But once in a while, you get a spurter. That’s always messy. Blood everywhere.”

The mental picture his words painted turned Raine’s empty stomach. “I’m glad you can fix him, but please don’t say any more.”

“What? You don’t want to assist me in the OR?” he teased.

Raine sent him a sour expression, pressed a palm to her stomach, and slumped back between Hammer and Liam. “Not unless you want me vomiting in the patient’s chest.”

“Stop, man. She can’t even watch an episode of The Walking Dead.” Hammer chuckled and slung his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. “You’ve always been a squeamish little thing.”