Jayme & Tripp (Game Wardens 1)

They got into position behind their open truck doors with the windows down, pulled their weapons; and provided cover for the other officers there. There was one officer, the negotiator, who had a bullhorn. He was trying to get the man to come to the door. Tripp’s blood pressure spiked when the front door slowly opened, and a shirtless man stepped out with a gun in his hand. He started screaming about his whore wife, and no good children. Then he swore they’d never take him alive.

Tripp held his breath. This guy was either going to kill himself or make them kill him. The negotiator tried his best to get the man to calm down, but he was having none of it. The man lifted the gun and shot off a couple rounds at them before they all opened fire on him. He jerked with each bullet that hit him. He was on the ground within seconds, full of bullet holes.

As a group of officers raced up to take care of him, Tripp glanced to his left to check on Jayme; but he was gone. His stomach rolled violently. He quickly holstered his weapon and ran around the back of the truck. He froze when he came around the bed and saw Jayme lying on the ground, the left side of his head drenched in blood. Springing into action, he ran to Jayme’s side; skidding to a halt on his knees.

“OFFICER DOWN!” he screamed, then grabbed the radio from his shoulder and called for an ambulance.

There was probably already one on the way, but he wasn’t taking any chances. A couple other officers ran over, including Brendan and Will.

“Holy shit! Jayme!” Brendan exclaimed.

“Where’s he hit?” Will asked.

“Head. I can’t tell if it’s just a graze, or if it went in. Someone get me something to stop the bleeding!” he yelled.

“Is he breathing?” Brendan asked.

He checked that and his pulse. “He’s breathing and has a steady pulse.”

He struggled to keep his emotions in check, especially when the blood was starting to pool on the ground under Jayme’s head. Good God, what if he dies? He never got the chance to tell Jayme that he loved him. He loved him so much.

A wad of gauze pads were thrust into his hand. He immediately pressed it against Jayme’s blood soaked head.

“Where’s the fucking ambulance?” he growled.

“They’re coming,” Will replied.

He glanced toward the house where they were doing CPR on the other guy. “Is he dead?”

“Yeah, ain’t no way he’s coming back from that,” Brendan murmured. “He had six officers shooting at him.”

His lip lifted in a sneer. “Good.”

While two officers did CPR on the man, two others went into the house to see if anyone else was inside. Just as they brought out a lady and two young children from the back of the house, he heard the siren for the ambulance. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at Jayme’s slack face. He had to be okay. He refused to think otherwise. As soon as Jayme was awake, he was going to tell him how he felt. There was no way he was going to go any longer, without letting Jayme know that his feelings had changed. If Jayme didn’t feel the same way, then he’d deal with it. It might hurt like a motherfucker, but at least Jayme would know where he stood.

Two ambulances rolled up. One for the dead man, and the other for Jayme. The paramedics wrapped up Jayme’s head, then got him on a stretcher and into the ambulance within minutes of them arriving. He wanted to go with his partner, but they needed him on scene to help contain it. As soon as he was cleared, he’d head to the hospital to see Jayme. No one knew they were...sleeping together. Mallory apparently never told anyone about seeing them in the club together. He wished he could say they were dating, but Jayme hadn’t wanted that. Well, that shit was about to change. He wanted more and either Jayme did too, or they’d have to end what they have.

~~~

Jayme

Jayme groaned. His head felt like it weighed a million pounds. What the hell happened? Where was he? He cracked one eye open, then did the other. His vision was blurry as he tried to look around.

“Oh hey, look guys, he’s awake.” Came his brother, Ian’s, voice from his left.

“Oh, honey, thank God,” his mother whispered from his right, just before she kissed his temple.

He reached up and rubbed his eyes with his left hand. That’s when he felt a tug from something attached to his hand. He blinked a couple times to clear his vision, then looked at his hand to see an IV line in it. He was in the hospital? For what? He looked around to see his family surrounding his bed, all with worried looks on their faces. He lifted his hand and touched his head, which was throbbing. There was a bandage around it. What the fuck?