by Christa Wick
Before I had time to react, Evan backhanded me, the weight of the gun in his hand enough for the blow to send me sprawling to the ground. My eyes closed for a second or several as a dull roar began to build between my ears.
I heard another gun shot, this one sounding like Evan's old revolver, and the single light bulb shattered. I opened my eyes as the silhouette of a man rushed into the stable's dark interior.
Collin -- he hadn't left Keeling, or I was already dead and dreaming on my way to the afterlife.
"Get out," Collin barked, his hand landing on my shoulder to thrust me behind him.
"He took four--" Another shot from Evan's gun shut me up. Time slowed until I looked up to see Collin hadn't taken a hit from the last round fired.
The shot Evan had fired in the doorway, however, had found its way into Collin's left bicep. Blood dripped from the cuff of the leather jacket.
When I didn't move, just stared at the blood, Collin shifted his gaze from the darkness Evan hid in to me. A dull click sounded from the shadows. A misfire or an empty chamber, my brain didn't know the difference, but Evan launched himself toward us, a rusted, hooked iron poker slashing through the air in front of him.
The metal tore through Collin's leather jacket to draw blood. Collin threw his arms around Evan, the momentum of the older man's jump and a last minute twist by Collin sending them crashing onto the table with its box of stolen goods. Collin's gun flew from his hand then slid across the cement floor and under a broken down stove.
The table crashed beneath their combined weight, tipping the second table onto its side, the uncapped jugs and two-liter bottles hitting the floor. Liquids started to spread and mix, their vapors creating a small burn in the back of my throat.
Collin screamed as he grappled with Evan. "Out, Mia!"
Like hell would I leave!
I couldn't get the gun without lying in the pool of chemicals. I looked around for another weapon, something to hit Evan with...
My gaze landed on the taser a foot from me. I scooped it up and turned to where the two of them still wrestled, only the cheap table beneath them keeping the chemicals from seeping into their clothes. Their bodies only half lit, my eyes and throat burning, I tried to make out my target. A punch landed in a face and I heard Evan groan in pain. Collin rolled.
Head spinning from the fumes, I pulled the trigger on the taser, the thin threads shooting out to embed in Evan's skin and clothing. His body went rigid, a tremor running through it before he went still.
I slid toward the ground, the overriding presence of ammonia forcing my submission. Collin's arms wrapped under mine and around my chest. Charred breaths wheezed through his throat as he dragged me toward the door.
We breached the threshold, fresh air flooding my lungs. Behind us, I heard the sound of one of the fluids igniting and Evan gasping for air. The gasping turned to shrieking.
"Keep going," Collin pushed me forward then turned back toward the stable.
"No!" I reached for him, my blurred vision making me miss and hit the side of the stable. "Don't go in!"
His arm on fire, Evan rolled on the ground, his body and clothes collecting the chemicals that had spilled on the ground. Ignoring my plea, Collin shielded his face and went in. He tried to grab one of Evan's ankles. Looking toward the door, he saw me still standing there.
"Clear the building, Mia!"
No -- if Collin wasn't coming out until Evan was rescued, I would have to go in and help him carry the bastard out!
Before my foot could cross the threshold, arms circled my waist. Someone lifted me off me feet, then dragged me screaming as another body rushed past me and into the stable. I clawed at the hands dragging me and then I heard a short, single boom and we both fell to the ground.
Chunks of wood from the side of the stable rained down on us. The ringing in my ears turned to the sound of multiple sirens -- ambulance, police, fire. I screamed Collin's name as the man continued to hold me down. The stable's roof started to slant and collapse as a smaller explosion popped.
A man emerged from what was left of the building, Collin slung over his shoulder. He staggered under the weight, carrying him past us and across the lane. The other man stopped fighting me. Scrambling to my feet, I crossed the lane, my peripheral vision catching the flash of lights as their sirens continued bleating.
I fell to my knees. Next to me, Collin's rescuer started to puke. I felt for a pulse on Collin, a small measure of relief loosening some of the tension in my chest when I felt its erratic beat. I dropped my head down by his mouth to hear the faint wheeze of air in and out.
Acid had eaten at the leather jacket and his left hand, half covered in blood from the gun shot wound, looked like it had been burnt.
Men swarmed around me, another set of hands urging me away to let the ambulance team help Collin and the man who had pulled him from the building. Numb, I looked up at the man guiding me away to see it was Gillie.
"Is he going to be okay?" The words coming out of my mouth didn't sound like they belonged to me. My voice was raw, both from emotion and the the chemicals I had inhaled inside the stable.
"He's got the best ambulance team in the county working on him and a helicopter on the way." He sat me on the ground next to his cruiser and grabbed a first aid kit.
I pointed to the man hovering over Collin's rescuer. "Are they Stark's or cops?"
Gillie shrugged. "If they were cops, they'd have badges out by now."
I nodded because it made sense.
Gillie pulled some type of wipe from a red foil package and tested a spot on my hand that looked like I'd laid out in the sun too long. "That sting too bad?"
I shook my head.
"Good, close your eyes." He went to work with the wipe on my face.
"How'd you get here so fast?" I asked, dodging my head whenever his body blocked my view of the ambulance team working on Collin. They had cut away his jacket and shirt, in part to get at the gunshot wound in his bicep, but also to treat the chemical burns.
"Collin called, said he wasn't sure what was going on but he saw Evan taking an odd selection of things into the stable, including stuff to cook." He looked up, the motion alerting me to the faint sound of a helicopter.
The sound was probably louder for Gillie, but phantom noise caused by the chemicals, gunfire and explosion still played inside my head. I looked at the man who had kept me from going back into the stable. A phone up to his ear, he paced beyond his team mate. His eyes met mine for a second, but there was no knowledge to pull from his expression or the way he held his body.
"Evan baited me," I told Gillie after a few more seconds. My lightly burnt cheeks must have flushed a couple shades darker because I felt a fresh heat on them as I remembered what Evan had said about putting sex toys and DNA in the guesthouse. "He might have planted evidence at your place, about you framing the Cahill brothers."
His brow shot up, the look urging me to go on. I took a hard swallow, the spit more painful than soothing as it traveled down my raw throat.
"He thought he could make it look like we were in cahoots to get him off the horse farm." I paused. I wasn't about to tell Gillie everything. He didn't need to know about the outfits Stark had bought me, both before and in Dubai, or speculate as to why I had held onto them. But he deserved to know at least a little. "He wanted my prints on the funnels and some of the containers in there, to make it look like I blew myself up trying to frame him. He might have planted chemicals at your place or some clothes that look like they'd fit me."
My cheeks flaming even hotter, I looked to where the helicopter had finally come into view. Stopping Gillie's attempts at first aid, I stood and moved closer to where the ambulance team was moving Collin onto a hand-held gurney. They did the same thing for the second man. Unlike Collin, he was conscious.
I put my mouth close to Gillie's ear so I wouldn't have to shout so loud over the helicopter. "Is Evan...you know."
He didn't answer, just pointed toward t
he stable. I followed the line of his arm and outstretched figure. I had been so intent on watching Collin worked on, I hadn't seen them carry Evan's body from the stable and drape a red cloth over it.
"Sometimes they leave them inside until the investigator gets here," he said. "But not if the chemicals will eat at the corpse."
I nodded, misplaced guilt and relief churning in my stomach. I guessed I felt guilty because I felt relieved that he was dead. Not happy -- just relieved.
"Can I go with Collin on the helicopter?" Another spike of guilt slammed into me as I saw a guarded expression flash across Gillie's face.
"Medical staff only." He walked me toward the ambulance crew who had abandoned their two charges to the flight doctor. "You'll ride in the ambulance as they finish first aid on you."
Shaking my head, I tried to brush his hand off me. "I'm fine, I--"
"You're going to the hospital." He switched the hand holding my elbow then wrapped the other around my shoulder so I couldn't brush him off. "Your throat and lungs need checked. It could have been worse, but that was serious shit you inhaled in there, Mia."
My head dropped as the tears I had been holding back started to flow. Whatever I had inhaled, whatever my skin had come into contact with, Collin had been exposed far worse -- all to protect a woman who had turned him away.
********************
They took me to the same hospital to which the air evac team had transported Collin. Just past the county line, it had more experience with meth lab explosions. Thankfully, our exposure was less harmful than it could have been because Evan either didn't know how to cook or he had decided framing me would be easier if it looked like I was ineptly trying to frame him. Whichever reason, he had a number of the ingredients wrong according to Gillie, from the wrong kind of batteries to the wrong cold medicine. Although, for the pseudoephedrine, he probably didn't want his name on the buy list right before he murdered me in an explosion.
My head spun at the logic and from the lingering effects of ammonia as I left the hospital exam room. The receptionist at the desk handed me an envelope with my name on it. I opened it to find my cell phone and car keys with a note from Gillie telling me where he had parked the vehicle.
I called his private cell phone and was immediately shunted to voicemail. I hoped it was because he was busy working the scene at the horse farm. Hoping I hadn't killed our friendship with my reaction to Stark's injuries, I left a message thanking Gillie for his thoughtfulness.
To the doctor's dismay, my blood pressure hadn't dropped to a normal range the entire time I was being examined. It wouldn't until I knew Stark's condition, so I went in search of information. I hit my first road block in the emergency room, which wouldn't even confirm he had been brought in. I tried the receptionist in surgery with the same result.
Standing in front of the hospital directory trying to figure out my next move, a warm, feminine hand curled around my elbow.
"Miss James?"
I turned to find a fifty-something woman in scrubs with a name badge identifying her as Linda Parks, RN. I nodded and she immediately started tugging me to follow her.
"It's supposed to be family only," she explained, pulling me through the doors to the recovery rooms. "But I'm going to have to sedate him if he doesn't calm, which I can't do until his surgeon is out of OR again."
She opened the door on a private room to reveal Collin standing next to the hospital bed and scowling at his ruined pants.
"You are not to remove your IV." Her hands found her hips and her shoulders squared like she was ready to tackle block him.
His scowl deepened for a second and then he seemed to realize I stood behind her. Dropping the pants, he sat down, the scowl erased as his gaze remained on me.
She waggled her finger at him. "All the way on the bed."
He complied, not looking at her.
"Stay put while I get another IV catheter." She raised the safety rail then turned, mumbling as she brushed past me on her way out of the room. "And restraints."
Alone and knowing the nurse would be back any second, I had no idea what to say to him. He had saved my life and tried to save Evan's. That made Stark a better person than me, no matter what I thought about Collin and how he had treated me.
Better than me or not, being around him wasn't any less toxic for my mind than the chemicals that had surrounded us in the stable. I wanted to know he was okay, but I didn't want to talk to him, not when my emotions were as raw as my throat, maybe worse.
Catching the scent of the chemicals on his clothes, I huffed.
"I don't think these are supposed to be in here." Spotting a box with latex gloves, I put them on then searched the cupboard beneath for something to put the clothes in. I found a big red plastic bag just as the nurse came in.
"I was going to do that before he started acting like a--" Stopping short, she glared at him then started to work on re-inserting the IV.
Except for one wince when the woman's hand brushed against a quarter-sized burn a few inches up from his wrist, he didn't acknowledge her but kept his attention focused on me.
"How did I get out?"
"One of your team pulled you out," I started.
He shook his head. "I didn't have a team. Kane..."
He paused while the nurse finished. Done, she stared at him. He stared back, his expression wholly that of Collin Stark, Chief Executive Bad Ass of Stark International. I sort of felt sorry for her. Veteran nurses don't wilt easily, especially when pissed at a problem patient, but she withered in a heartbeat beneath that stare of his.
He waited until the door clicked shut behind her before he finished. "Kane cut me off -- my company, my accounts..."
I shook my head. "Two men rescued us. One kept me from going back into the stable, the other one went in right before it exploded then carried you out. I think he's here, too, but he was conscious when the air evac took the two of you away."
"I called Gillie, those men--"
"Weren't cops," I interrupted. "The second one never pulled a badge out."
Collin wasn't ready to relent. "Kane cut me off. I've spent the last two weeks in a sleeping bag outside your..."
Shaking his head, he closed his eyes, repeating Kane's disloyalty.
Picking up his jacket from the rack beneath the bed, I emptied the pocket onto the hospital tray then folded the jacket and put it in the red plastic bag.
"You know, when I was six and my mother started dating Evan, I told her I was running away." I wadded the ruined t-shirt and stuffed it in next to the leather jacket. "She helped me pack my book bag, had me say good-bye to my horse, explaining I couldn't possibly feed Corabelle. Then she sent me down the drive with three different stable hands following me until I finally sat down on a stump a few miles from the farm and started crying."
Shoes, socks and underwear followed the t-shirt as I paused to dam the tears that threatened to flow. Setting the bag down, I picked the jeans up from the floor and began to empty the pockets.
"She showed up then and took me home. To this day I'm not sure whether it was a good lesson or bad." I placed what I had scooped out of the pockets on the metal tray, not paying any attention as I stuffed the ruined pants into the bag. "My father would have asked why I wanted to run away -- she never did."
Not really sure why I started the story, except maybe to exculpate Kane, a man I didn't even like, I stopped and looked at Collin. He stared at the hospital tray like I'd just put a grenade on it with the pin already pulled.
I looked, my gaze first taking in the bigger items like his cell phone and wallet before it landed on what must have held his attention.
A ring -- a woman's ring, with a large diamond solitaire and a platinum band.
"Why did you run away?"
The question broke my focus on the ring. Stepping away from the bed, I sealed the bag of clothes, placed it under the bed then removed the latex gloves before responding.
"Even that young, I knew Evan liked mak
ing people miserable." I turned toward the bed, realizing I had answered the wrong question when his gaze grabbed mine.
"I meant Florida." Collin tried to sit up again, grimacing as he pushed at the tray and looked for the locks on the safety rail.
I moved the tray back in place. The redness on his face had faded already and I didn't know where else I could safely touch him, so I placed my palm against his forehead and forced him back against the mattress.
I wanted to tell him he didn't deserve an answer, but that rang hollow after he had saved my life. I couldn't tell him the truth, though. The truth made me feel even more hollow. I had been able to spend four miserable months bouncing around the question of whether the doctors had lied to me in Dubai, but I couldn't stand another day at Stark International after I saw his new secretary touch him and heard the lurid speculation in the voices of the men around me.
"You need another bag for these." I gestured at the items on the tray, my gaze and outstretched finger avoiding the ring. I returned to the cabinet I had found the red bag in and located a smaller, clear bag marked "valuables." Returning to the tray, I started to put them inside until my finger brushed against the ring.
I dropped the bag onto the tray without finishing. "That second man on the team, the one they didn't admit to the hospital, he'll be able to get you fresh clothes."
I turned toward the door and managed one step away from the bed before Collin captured my wrist. "I told you, Kane cut me off."
His strength too worn down to contain me, I twisted my wrist free. "Clearly, he hasn't or we'd both be dead."
Collin reached again, his IV tube tangling so that I was forced to turn back and push against his forehead a second time. He gave me that look, the one he'd given the nurse, for all of a second before his gaze softened.
Snatching the call button, I paged someone to the room. He was their patient, they could sit on him or sedate him. I needed to escape before I left my heart on the floor.
