A Secret Service [NOW PUBLISHED]

Chapter 45 - "You got my message."

Carter regained consciousness, laying on the ground on her back. Her brain felt swollen and filled with a jumbled mess of thoughts. Gradually the sound of shuffling footsteps registered in her mind. Her eyes came into focus on Donovan smashing the butt of his gun into her attacker's face. The sheer force of the blow sent the man crashing to the floor. Donovan shot him in the leg, keeping him there, his face a mask of fury.

Carter tried to move, but a flash of pain nearly brought the blackness back. A cry escaped her lips. She closed her eyes, fighting to remain conscious. Donovan rushed to her side, his features contorting into a look of deep concern.

"Carter," he said, unable to hide the worry in his tone.

The initial shock of agony subsided, leaving her with an intense pain that was bearable. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she focused on Donovan. He was bent over her, his blue eyes dark with roiling emotions. Setting the gun down, he reached out and gently cupped the back of her head. His other hand brushed the side of her face.

"Hey," he said, his voice tender.

She took in a deep breath, the pain ebbing away. At the look of worry on his face, her heart smiled.

"You're right," she said, her voice raspy. "I don't protect my left side."

Donovan dropped his head and gave a shaky, relieved laugh. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead, his breathing ragged. His lips were warm and soft. The feel of them lingered on her skin.

"Don't move," he said. "I have to take care of the lock down and I'll be right back."

As if scared he would break her, he slowly lowered her head back to the floor. Before heading to Principal Withers's office, he locked the main door.

Carter closed her eyes, listening as his footsteps retreated. Every inch of her felt battered. But with each steady breath she became more and more accustomed to the injuries. From the aches in her body she knew at least a couple ribs were bruised, if not cracked, her face was sore but nothing was majorly damaged, and it was possible she had a concussion, her brain feeling fuzzy.

By the time Donovan was walking back to her, she was able to prop herself on her elbow. Her thoughts were blurring, but she didn't feel like passing out again. The shutters on the windows lifted and gray light filtered into the office. The grinding metal rang in the silence of the room.

"Deputy Townsend," Donovan said, into the radio, "you're clear."

"Well done, Agent. Hold your position and my men will find you."

"Copy that."

Donovan slipped the radio into his pocket before crouching down by Carter.

"Can you get up?" he asked.

She started to nod, but stopped when the room tilted, dizziness washing over her. Donovan caught her before she hit the ground, one arm holding her around her shoulders.

"I'll take that as a no," he said.

She blinked, trying to clear the haze from her mind.

"I just need a minute then I can get up," she said.

Donovan didn't respond. Instead he slid his other arm under her legs. Instinctively, Carter wrapped her uninjured arm around his neck as he lifted her off the ground.

A stab of pain hit her as his hand pressed against her injured ribs. She sucked in a breath, gripping the back of his shirt, a shock of pain bringing tears to her eyes. Donovan quickly shifted his hand to an undamaged area.