by Katie Reus
She was too tired to argue. She’d just wait until he was gone and do what she wanted. They weren’t together anymore and some part of her needed to buck at his order. “Okay.”
Surprising her, he leaned down and kissed the top of her head in a gentle action that rattled her so much she stepped back, needing distance from him. As soon as he was gone, she grabbed her bag and headed down to the first floor. He was being ridiculous, and she knew the ins and outs of this hospital—she’d stayed here long enough. Her shoes made little squeaks against the linoleum. She wasn’t sure where Evan had snagged her sneakers from, but it was a relief to wear these instead of her heels.
As she passed by the bustling cafeteria, peeking inside and seeing it full, she continued down the hallway. There were a few vending machines with the biscotti she liked and she’d never been able to find them anywhere else. It had been one of the few things she could stomach when she’d been waiting for news on Evan. If anything, she almost felt a compulsion to grab some—they reminded her of the “Before.” Before Evan had cut her out of his life and decided they weren’t together anymore. Before her life had swerved onto a rocky path she never could have predicted.
Shoving away those thoughts, she stepped into the little alcove with a coffee bar and a machine with all sorts of food—most of it so-so. In the reflection a taller man wearing a hoodie stepped up behind her, crowding her personal space. She shifted to the side, annoyed at how rude he was being.
Suddenly a hand shoved into her back, propelling her forward against the machine. Stars danced in front of her eyes as the glass rattled under the force of her body.
She shoved off it, raising up her elbow to fight off this stranger, but he grabbed it in his meaty fist before wrapping his arm around her neck. A kaleidoscope of color flashed before her eyes as he tightened his grip, cutting off her air supply.
No! The voice in her head screamed as she tried to get the word out. He was squeezing too tight, too hard.
Flailing wildly, adrenaline and panic punched through her in equal shots. No, no, no. She refused to die here. Kicking out, she found purchase on the vending machine and shoved backward.
The guy grunted, his grip loosening, but not enough. She dragged in air, grateful for the oxygen, but before she could scream he went for her throat again. He wrapped one arm around it and shoved a hand over her mouth.
She shoved backward hard, taking him off guard. When he loosened his grip, she ducked out of his hold and ran, screaming as loud as she could as he stumbled behind her. Not looking back, she sprinted down the hallway, nearly running into two nurses who were stepping out of a swinging door marked Employees Only.
Her heart raced out of control as she jerked to a halt in front of them. “A man…” She dragged in air. “Choked me. Tried to kill me.” She managed to get out enough words that one of them took off as the other pulled out a cell phone.
“Come with me,” the woman said as she wrapped an arm around her, quickly ushering her down the hallway as she called security.
Isla needed to call Evan, needed— She swallowed hard as reality started to sink in. Someone had attacked her in the hospital. Someone seriously wanted her dead, and the concept was baffling and terrifying.
This wasn’t random. It couldn’t be. Just like the cookie couldn’t have been random. Not after what had just happened. Now she really wished she’d listened to Evan when he’d told her to stay put.
Chapter 11
“What are we doing here?” Isla asked as Evan pulled up to his building. He’d insisted on leaving the hospital almost immediately.
She was still ice cold, unable to get rid of the chill that had settled deep in her bones and wouldn’t abate. Her throat was sore and she felt more exhausted than she could ever remember being. As if she’d just run a marathon. She thought about calling Jemma or her mom, but didn’t want them to worry.
“We’re staying at my place for now. It’s more secure. The rental is fine but I like my security better than yours. And after what’s happened, you need to be far away from home. From any routine.” His fingers were gripped tightly against the wheel, his knuckles gone white under his hard grip.
His security actually was better and his place was bigger—and she agreed with everything he’d said. Still. “You didn’t feel like asking me first?” Her tone was mild as she glanced over at him, unable to muster up any sort of annoyance right now. Not when she was still trying to deal with what had just happened.
His jaw tightened as he pulled into the parking garage, but he didn’t actually respond.
“Oh my God, you didn’t want to risk me saying no, right?” She couldn’t even be surprised.
He lifted a shoulder in response.
She shoved out a breath of annoyance. “Look, I agree with you. Your place is more secure. But asking me would have been appreciated.” She didn’t like feeling bulldozed, having control taken away from her. Especially now.
“I want to apologize, but I’m not actually sorry.” Pure protectiveness flashed across his expression.
She stared at him for a long moment and let out a startled burst of rusty laughter that felt foreign given the terror of what she’d just gone through. “At least you’re being honest.”
The tension in his shoulders eased only a fraction as he parked. “Detective Duarte might already be upstairs waiting. I told security to let him through if he got here before us.”
They’d left the hospital almost immediately, with Evan insisting she would be safer away from there—and security hadn’t been able to stop him. The man was a force of nature when he wanted something, and today she was grateful for that. She hadn’t wanted to stick around the hospital while the police searched for the man who’d attacked her—the man who had no doubt escaped already.
She’d started to respond when her phone started ringing. Geno’s name flashed on the caller ID and she almost ignored it as she stepped out of the passenger seat—then remembered she’d missed their meeting today. “Geno, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t be sorry. Carol told me what’s going on. She said you had an allergic reaction…and then someone attacked you at the hospital?”
She closed her eyes for a moment as they reached the elevators. She wasn’t surprised Carol had been so forthcoming, but wished she hadn’t told him about the hospital attack. She’d let her assistant know what was going on so she could hold all her calls and deal with any potential issues. “Yes, it’s true. And I’m about to talk to a detective. Can I call you back in half an hour and fill you in on everything?”
“Of course. I’m glad you’re okay. Let me know if you need anything.”
After they said their goodbyes and disconnected, she tucked her phone into her purse. She definitely needed to talk to Geno about some work things, and she was going to be pretty open with him about what was going on because he had a right to know since he would be spending time with her. But that was a conversation for later, when she was alone. Because if she was being honest, she did not want to have a conversation with Geno in front of Evan. Not when Evan had made it clear he didn’t like the other man.
Right now she didn’t have the energy to deal with anything extra.
Evan was right—Duarte was waiting for them by the time they reached the penthouse floor. He was silent as Evan unlocked his door and they all stepped inside, but his grim expression only added to the lead ball congealed in her stomach.
“Thank you for meeting us here,” Isla said to him, mainly to break the silence as they moved into the living room. She sat, not trusting her wobbly legs to hold her up. Today’s reality was starting to hit her. Hard.
“Evan didn’t really give me a choice.” He shot an annoyed glance at Evan before focusing back on her, his expression softening.
“I wasn’t keeping her at the hospital,” he murmured, clearly not sorry as he sat next to Isla. If anything his expression was challenging, if not outright confrontational.
The detective continued. “We’re taking all
of this very seriously. The poisoning is very hands-off, but the attack at the hospital? That’s… It’s serious and violent, and I’m going to do everything I can to find who is behind it. I’ve already spoken to your head of security and we’re going to be running through your security feeds. This feels very personal, nothing like what happened before.” His gaze flicked over to Evan for a brief moment, the reference to the bombing clear.
She wrapped her arms around herself as she instinctively leaned closer to Evan. Isla might want to keep her distance from him, but she wasn’t going to bother today. Not when he made her feel safe. “What exactly do you need from me?”
“A list of enemies. Any exes or bad dates you’ve gone on recently, anyone who has a personal grudge against you. And…” He looked at Evan again. “I’m going to need to talk to you as well. Any exes that might want to hurt Isla to get to you.”
Evan shook his head. “I haven’t dated anyone since Isla and I…broke up. And I wasn’t serious with anyone before her. No one who would go to the kind of lengths this person has gone to.”
The detective nodded once and wrote something on his notepad.
Her phone dinged again and she glanced at the screen. She’d received various texts from Carol, Ollie, Geno, and even Logan. Word had spread around the building about what had happened, so now it seemed everyone knew. And Logan had assured her they were completely revamping security after this and currently working with the police. But she didn’t recognize this number. She pulled up the message and gasped.
“What?” Evan leaned over, and before she could respond he plucked the phone from her hands and held it out to the detective.
“You’re going to pay, whore.” Detective Duarte read the message out loud, his expression growing even darker.
Then he wrote something else down, the phone number from the screen, she guessed.
“Yes, this is personal. And I suggest you get some rest,” he said, standing. “Whoever texted you probably isn’t dumb enough to do it from their own phone but we’re still going to run this number. We are going to find out who is behind all this. And I know I don’t need to tell you this, but don’t take any unnecessary risks. If you have a routine, mix it up. Don’t go in public unless you have to. I know this is less than ideal, but until we’ve caught this guy, just be smart. And let your own security here know what’s going on. No random deliveries allowed through, nothing.”
Evan stood with him. “I’ll be her shadow until this guy is caught.”
There was a bite to Evan’s tone that made the detective straighten. “Walk out with me?” Duarte asked.
And since he didn’t include her, she didn’t go with them. Instead she stood, stretching. She felt a thousand years old as she walked to the huge window overlooking downtown Miami. The sky was now fading into pinks and oranges as the sun descended. Today had gone by in a blur of insanity. She’d missed meetings, had emails and other crap to catch up on but…she didn’t really care. At the end of the day, she was just glad to be alive. And she was really grateful to be with Evan, to be at his place and under his protection. She didn’t care what it said about her either. She needed him right now, needed to not be strong and in control.
“I put in a call to Lizzy at Red Stone Security. She’s got the security feeds from the hospital around the time of your attack,” Evan said quietly from behind her a minute later. “She’s sending them over to us to review.”
Blinking in surprise, she turned to find him only a couple feet in front of her. “Did you tell the police?”
“No. I trust that they’re going to do everything they can and they’ll be reviewing the feeds too. But Lizzy didn’t get them legally, and I’m not sitting on my hands. There’s got to be enough video evidence from the hospital and surrounding buildings near yours downtown that she might be able to get something. Whoever sent that text is serious. They tried to kill you,” he growled, stepping forward and pulling her into his arms.
She didn’t fight his hold, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face against his chest.
She’d been trying to compartmentalize things the last couple hours, but she’d been poisoned and then someone had attacked her at the hospital. Her neck and body were still sore and she was having a hard time computing it all. Being in Evan’s arms right now? Yeah, that helped ease some of her fear. He might have broken her heart, but he was here now and he was being a rock. This was the Evan she’d fallen for, the one who had been unflappable in the face of…everything. “I’ve called Rosa and told her to increase security at my mom’s house. And Jemma’s out of town and she’s the only other person I can think of who someone would try to hurt to get to me.”
“Good,” he murmured against the top of her head. He didn’t loosen his hold either, just held her tight.
And God, she’d missed him, missed his strong embrace. She closed her eyes for a long moment, inhaling his familiar scent. Even if she didn’t want to depend on him right now, she was going to take what he was offering. She could admit that she was terrified. Not knowing who had come after her was even worse because she had some faceless enemy out there wanting to kill her.
“I wish I’d never gone for that stupid biscotti.” Tears clogged her throat.
“This isn’t your fault. And I’d never have left you alone for one second if I thought someone was lurking around the hospital waiting to… Waiting.” He held her even closer, actually shaking as he gripped her tight. “We’ll find the guy.”
She certainly hoped so. But she knew things didn’t always have a happy ending. And she couldn’t stop the fear welling up inside her that told her all of this was going to end badly.
* * *
Restless, Isla stared at the ceiling before rolling on her side. She couldn’t get comfortable, couldn’t get warm enough. Then she was too hot. Even the luxury sheets seemed to chafe against her skin as she kicked them off. The place was fully insulated from the outside world, so she didn’t even have the street noise far below as a distraction. Everything was so quiet—and that gave her too much time with her thoughts. She’d tried reading and television, but neither of those had worked to distract her.
She kept feeling that man choking her, trying to squeeze the life out of her. And being here, being in Evan’s place—in his freaking guest room—was bizarre. Not as bizarre as what was going on in her life, but it was one more layer of weirdness on the shittiest cake ever.
It didn’t matter that everything in the room was pure luxury for maximum comfort and had been designed professionally. The Swarovski chandelier above the California king-size bed was gorgeous even at night, but in the daylight it sparkled. Everything was done in soft grays, whites and silvers, giving the room an ethereal glow that reminded her of a spa. But it wasn’t Evan’s bedroom, and that was the problem.
Even after all he’d put her through, even after how badly he’d hurt her, she still wanted him. When she heard a soft chime, she glanced around the plush room until it registered that someone had texted her at…three in the morning?
Dread swelled inside her as she picked up her phone. Oh no. It was from a different unknown number.
I’m going to enjoy slitting your throat, bitch.
Bile rose inside her and she dropped the phone as if she’d been burned. Jolting out of bed, she didn’t even think, she just headed straight for Evan’s room. Pausing at the doorway, she swiveled back and plucked up the phone.
Her feet were silent against the long Persian runner that was warm underneath her bare soles as she moved. Barely a moment passed after she knocked before the door swung open.
“You okay?” Evan stood in front of her in a long-sleeved workout shirt and a pair of jogging shorts.
“Yeah, I…” She held out her phone, unable to fight off a shudder as the vile words replayed in her head.
He swore softly and stepped back. “Give me a sec.” He grabbed his own phone and sent off a couple emails—to Detective Duarte and Lizzy, she saw—before setting it
back on his nightstand.
The room smelled like him, triggering a bittersweet pain in her chest. Once upon a time, she’d left her own phone, e-reader and other personal things on the opposite nightstand. Now that one was bare except for a lamp, everything gone as if it had never been. As if she’d never stayed here at all. Cold swept through her and she looked away, back at him.
“You’re staying in here tonight,” he ordered, leading her to what had once been her side of the bed.
“I…” She was going to say that she shouldn’t, but right now she didn’t care about what she should or shouldn’t do. She didn’t want to be alone, even if it muddied the waters between them even more. And that was when she realized he definitely hadn’t been sleeping. His laptop was propped open, the soft glow of light bathing the pillow. “You’re working?” She slid under the covers, careful not to jostle his laptop.
He shrugged and grabbed it off the bed, closing it. “Just looking over the security feeds.” He dimmed the lights then slid in next to her.
His familiar, masculine scent teased her senses, but she ignored it. Or tried to. She felt safer just being next to him. She and Evan had their problems, but he would protect her no matter what, without expecting anything in return. “Find anything useful?”
She’d looked at some of them earlier but the attacker had been wearing a hoodie and then he’d just disappeared into one of the rooms. Detective Duarte had told them they’d done a thorough search of it and the entire hallway, but by the time they’d actually searched the room the man was gone. The assumption was he’d gone out the first-floor window since he hadn’t been captured on any more cameras.
“No.” So much frustration filled that one word. “I keep thinking if I watch enough, I’ll see something, that his body language will look familiar. I don’t know,” he muttered, stretching out next to her.
Being in his bed again was just more weirdness, making her wish she could stay here forever. All safe and warm and tucked in where maniacs couldn’t try to kill her. “The police will figure out who’s behind this. Whoever is doing it isn’t a ghost. They’ll make a mistake.” There was far more conviction in her words than her heart. If she believed it, maybe it would really happen—sooner than later.
