by Cindi Myers
Isaac blanched. “You’re going to be okay,” he told her, his jaw setting with resolve. “How are you feeling?” He opened the bay doors and stood aside while Lucas carried her to the gurney inside. “Cold? Dizzy? Nauseous?”
“A little,” she answered, her teeth beginning to chatter.
Isaac covered her with a white blanket, then fixed a stethoscope into his ears. Her tragedy had changed him, too.
Gwen set a palm against his cheek as he worked, listening to her heart and lungs. “Look at you.” She sniffled, and a tear swiveled over her cheek. “You’re all grown up. I’m sorry I missed it.”
“Me, too,” he said, checking her vitals before pulling a bag of IV fluids from a cabinet behind him. He hung the bag, then worked the line into her hand, smoothly inserting the needle without her seeming to notice. Satisfied, he turned cautious eyes back on hers. “I’m glad to see you again, too, but we could’ve just had lunch.”
Gwen smiled, then winced once more.
Isaac pulled back with a patient grin. “I need to take a look at that.” He cut the material of her shirt, exposing the wound in Gwen’s side, then deftly cleaned and assessed. “You’ll need a couple stitches, but this will heal. It’s not deep.” He applied a topical cream and bandage with skilled and confident hands. “We’ll get the sutures at the hospital, and better evaluate that bump on your head.”
Her hand rose to her forehead. She grimaced as her fingers found the rising knot.
“She hit her head on the road when he shoved her into traffic,” Lucas said.
Isaac swore under his breath, then moved on to cleaning superficial wounds. First her palms, then cutting away the torn fabric of her pants to work on her knees. “He’s really back?” he asked. “After all this time?” He looked up from his work, catching Lucas’s eye.
“Turns out, he never left,” Gwen said.
Isaac’s gaze hardened. A silent order for Lucas to find this guy and put him away. As if that wasn’t Lucas’s new purpose in life.
“When did you decide to be a paramedic?” Gwen asked. “I thought you were going to study computer science.”
“I decided I wanted to make a difference,” he said, smoothing a bandage over the broken skin of her palm.
Isaac had spent every minute he was allowed in the hospital hallways and waiting rooms while Gwen had fought for her life. Then became a dedicated visitor during her recovery. He’d been crushed to learn she’d left for Florida without saying goodbye. Gwen had been his family, too. When he’d changed his choice of major freshman year of college, he’d told his mother there weren’t any computer technicians involved in saving Gwen, but there had been countless medical professionals. He wanted to be like them.
“Hey!” A man in a local PD jacket waved a badge overhead, scowling and summoning Lucas from outside the open ambulance doors.
Isaac and the driver looked to Lucas.
“Are we okay here for another minute?” Lucas asked. “I’d like to talk to this guy, but I want to go with Gwen to the hospital.”
Gwen reached for his hand. “Go. I’m okay here, and I want to know what he says.”
“I’ll be right back.” Lucas hopped down to meet the man with the badge, hopeful the assailant had fallen on his own knife while running away.
“Lucas Winchester?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.” Lucas extended a hand to the older officer. “West Liberty, SVU.”
“Is our vic going to be okay?” The officer tipped his chin to the waiting ambulance. Sincere concern lined his brow.
“That’s Gwen Kind,” Lucas reported. “She’s not a victim, and she’s going to be just fine.”
The officer seemed to consider that a moment as he watched Gwen on the gurney, then nodded. “Good. Detective Anderson wants to talk with you. She said not to let you leave until she did.”
“I’m in a hurry,” Lucas said, unwilling to be detained longer than necessary. “She can catch me at the local ER. Any news on the assailant?”
A sharp whistle drew their attention to the tree line. “I’ll take it from here,” Anderson reported, stepping onto the shoulder and taking in the scene.
An ambulance on the berm. A closed lane of traffic, courtesy of several crunched cars. A set of uniformed officers and an arriving tow truck, attempting to clear it all.
She excused the officer before Lucas with the flick of her head, then gave Lucas a cold stare. “What exactly were you doing out here? Investigating a crime in my jurisdiction?” she huffed the questions, cheeks pink with temper. “You only called to tell me what you were up to after the fact. Then by happenstance, I got to hear about that poor woman being abducted while you chased her and her assailant into traffic. Now, I have an injured woman, a crime scene, a pile of wrecked cars and a stalker who’s both on the run and onto us. How the hell did he even find you here? Tell me a detective with a record as good as yours isn’t being followed without knowing.”
Lucas blinked. How had he found them there? In the middle of the day. Not at all according to Gwen’s routine? What had she said when Lucas pulled her out of traffic? He’d come from the trees?
“If I had any chance of finding this guy before he knew I was looking,” Anderson ranted on, “it went straight out the window the moment you decided to take on a New Plymouth case without any authority to do so. Do you understand what a loss that is? A disadvantage you gave me.”
She worked her jaw and crossed her arms, turning her back to the ambulance. “I understand on a human level what you’re doing here with her and why. I’ve read more about Ms. Kind’s original attack over the past few days than I have ever read about any other cold case. Ever. And I get what this means to you, but this is my town, and I lead the investigations here. Whatever personal connection you have with the victim might be solid motivation for you, but it isn’t doing you or your friend any favors. So, I suggest you take a big boy step back or the next time you cause chaos like this, I’ll contact your supervisor and have you sent home.”
Lucas narrowed his eyes, hating every word she’d said and the tone in which the message had been delivered. “With all due respect,” he began, ready to explain a few things that weren’t respectful at all, but he froze. Another thought pressed its way into mind, stunning him temporarily silent.
“Yes?” Detective Anderson demanded. “You’ve got something to say?”
“We came here today after reviewing the photo files you sent me. Did you include every photo from the thumb drive?”
She nodded, brows furrowed. “Everything. Why?”
Lucas shoved his hands through his hair and gritted his teeth. “We’re here because there were twice as many photos of this place than any other location in the past year. It was the most obvious place to start looking for clues, so we came.” He groaned and swallowed a thick line of curses. He’d been tricked. Manipulated. Beaten. “This guy knew we’d make that connection and come here to investigate. He set us up. He hid. And he waited.”
Hunted, Lucas realized. They’d been lured like deer by poachers. “And he even left himself a knife for when we inevitably came waltzing into his trap.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Gwen climbed into the bed in Lucas’s room just after nine. They’d been trapped at the hospital in New Plymouth for hours, waiting for her to receive medical attention, then for the staff to observe and discharge her. They’d made their statements to the local police department, telling the story at length, and on repeat, to be sure nothing was missed or forgotten. Then Detective Anderson had laid into Lucas for inserting himself into her investigation and causing the pile of fender benders among other things. Gwen had done her best to settle the woman’s temper, but she was beside herself, and Gwen hadn’t had the energy to argue. She’d just wanted to go home.
“You don’t have to do all this,” she told Lucas for the dozenth time as he worked on st
oking the fire.
“Temperatures are dropping tonight,” he reminded her, shooting a sheepish look over his shoulder. “You’ll be glad I did. The furnace in this place hasn’t been updated since we were in middle school. Having a fireplace in the bedroom is practically a necessity.”
“You’ve fussed too much already. It’s been an awful day. Let’s just call it and start again tomorrow.” She rubbed her stinging eyes and yawned, pushed closer to sleep by the day’s excitement and whatever had been in her IV, no doubt.
He stretched onto his feet, dusting his palms and surveying the room. He’d gathered his discarded clothing and closed the closet door while she’d showered and changed into pajamas. When she’d returned, the space was spotless, and there was a glass of water on the nightstand beside the prescribed pain medication she refused to take and the bottle of over-the-counter stuff she’d reluctantly said she might. The prescription would make her head foggy. She couldn’t afford that now. The aspirin was a better option, once the medication from the hospital wore off.
He’d insisted they stay here tonight, when she’d wanted to go to her place, but that was a fight she’d be better equipped for tomorrow. For now, they were safe in his home. Back in his jurisdiction, where Detective Anderson couldn’t complain about their investigation, which was nice. And hopefully, Gwen’s attacker would be lying low tonight, recovering from his failure and allowing Gwen and Lucas to rest.
She tracked him with a tired, apologetic gaze as he crossed back to her. She’d come to him for an opinion and advice, now he’d inadvertently become her personal protector and caretaker.
“Hey,” he said softly, sinking onto the bed at her side. His baggy sweatshirt and pants made him look younger and softer, like the man she’d fallen in love with in college. His hair was mussed from dragging his fingers through it and damp from a shower. His scent so familiar and enticing, she wanted to pull him against her and thank him properly for saving her life today.
More effects of that pesky IV, she assured herself.
She was too relaxed, and it was hard to corral her thoughts. Her mind circled around how good it felt to be with Lucas again, whatever else happened. How she felt more whole here, with a man she hadn’t seen or spoken to in years, than she had any day in between. And her heart grew heavy, hating how hard it would be to leave again, and how empty her days would become without him. She couldn’t stay with Lucas, and he couldn’t come with her once this ended. They each had their own lives now, and no amount of wistful, IV-induced hope could change that.
“Tired?” he asked, a small grin on his handsome face. He caressed her forehead and cheeks before taking her hand.
Her restless heart leapt, and it took another long beat for her to realize he was checking her temperature and pulse.
She scooted up in bed, arranging the pillows behind her as a backrest. “I’m okay,” she promised, then cringed slightly at the spear of pain along her newly sutured side. “Thank you for everything you’re doing. And for saving my life.”
Lucas’s caring eyes searched hers. “There’s an argument to be made that I’m the one who put you in danger by taking you with me today, and by not seeing his trap for what it was.”
“Ridiculous,” Gwen said, pushing herself up straighter against the pillows. “You’re stuck in the middle of this because of me, and we went to the park together. As a team,” she said. “I’m not here to hide out while you fix my problems. I’m here because I needed to know if you thought there was something to worry about. There clearly is, and you’re helping me through it. Which is incredibly kind and gracious of you.” Not to mention heroic, gallant and a dozen other wonderful things. “There was no way you could have predicted he’d be there today.”
“Because I underestimated him,” Lucas said. His cool blue eyes turning away, brooding again. Something he’d been making a profession out of since they’d ridden away from the crime scene in the ambulance. And it broke her heart.
“This isn’t on you,” she whispered, wondering where he went when he drifted away in one of those remorseful stares. A painful possibility occurred as she watched him draw into himself and noted the guilt and shame in his eyes. The way he was all-in with her from the moment someone had picked up their tab at the pub, and the way he mothered her now, trying to make every detail right. As if fresh bedding and the perfect fire would somehow heal her faster. Or make amends. “Luke,” she whispered, forcing the word from her lips. “Do you blame yourself for what happened to me in college?”
His attention snapped back to her, a world of pain and hurt coursing behind hooded eyes. “Every day.”
Her breath caught and her throat tightened. Unsure what to say, she reached for him, dragging him nearer by the sleeve of his shirt. He resisted a moment, confusion clouding his gaze. Then, he followed her lead and allowed her to hold him. A sea of emotions broke over her as she pressed him closer. It had been years since she’d touched or been touched by anyone other than her parents. And that had been polite and limited. She’d feared that being touched could send her into a spiral of memories she didn’t want. Memories of the monster and all the ways he’d hurt her. But now, as Lucas belatedly wrapped his arms around her, the opposite was happening. It was as if she could finally breathe.
Her head fell easily into the crook of his neck, and she loved the feel of his heart beating against hers. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “Not what happened today and not what happened before. I promise you.” He shuddered against her, and for a moment she wondered if he was crying. She wouldn’t blame him if he was. Hers was the same message he’d repeated to her all those years ago, begging her to see her attack wasn’t about some wrong choice she’d made, but about the attacker alone. She wasn’t responsible for anyone else’s behavior, and she had every right to walk home that night, or any night. No reason to think that choice would change her life. She couldn’t shoulder any of that burden any longer, and neither should Lucas.
“I’m sorry I left you,” she said gently, the truth flowing from her heart and through her lips without filter. The moment was too precious to ruin with veils and lies. Something had changed for her today, and she knew instinctually that this was the moment all the others had been leading to since that night. It was time to set Lucas free from any of the weight she’d unintentionally left on him when she’d walked away. “I ran away for a thousand really good reasons, but I should have handled our goodbye better.”
Lucas pulled back, eyes tight with emotion. “You did what you needed to do. I never blamed or judged you for that. Not for a minute.”
A smile tugged Gwen’s trembling lips. “I was wrong, and I’m sorry. I loved you, and I owed you a proper goodbye.”
His frown deepened. “Gwen, you’ve never owed me anything.”
“I do.” She worked to press back the painful lump in her throat. There was one more thing that needed to be said before she changed her mind. “I let a monster change me, but I didn’t mean to let him change you, too.”
Lucas shook his head slowly. “He didn’t change me.”
“No? So, you like being a Special Victims Unit detective?” she asked. “Dealing with this kind of brutality and horror every day. A constant reminder of what you went through?”
He turned stormy eyes on her without answering.
“You were going to be a great architect,” she said, grieving the future he’d lost. “You had more brains and talent than anyone else in your class. And you gave that up. I think joining the force was noble, but this was never your dream.”
“You were my dream,” he said flatly. “You.”
“But I was gone. And you quit school.”
Lucas ground his teeth, eyes flooded with barely contained emotion. Anger, heartbreak and regret among others she couldn’t name. “I didn’t need my master’s degree to join the force.”
“You were never supposed to join t
he force.”
“And I didn’t quit school, I flunked out.”
“What?” She pulled her chin back, stunned. “How?”
“I might’ve been a grad student at Bellemont, but I spent all my time looking for the man who hurt you. I looked for clues on my own, interviewing students and tracking leads. I blanketed the campus with flyers in search of anything that could further the case. My grades were in the trash by the end of the first semester. That was when I realized I didn’t want to be an architect anymore. And what I really needed to find the man who hurt you was access to everything the police knew so far. There was only one way to do that. So, I joined the force. Not that it’s gotten me any closer to my goal.”
“Are you happy?” she asked. “As a detective?” That was the bottom line, she supposed. Even if she couldn’t understand finding joy in being surrounded by people living her nightmare, if Lucas somehow could, then that was all that mattered.
“Yeah,” he answered easily, and with a small laugh. “I am.” He turned those intense blue eyes on her with a smile. “I like making a difference. I like seeing criminals punished, and I like seeing victims get the justice they deserve. When I get to be part of that delivery, all the better. I might’ve come to law enforcement by way of the unthinkable, but I’ve stayed for me. For them.” He shrugged. “Sitting where I am today, I’m not sure I’d be happy as an architect. So, no, that psychopath didn’t change me, but he will regret he ever crossed me.”
The words hit her like a punch to the chest. If Lucas hadn’t changed, then she’d never really known him. He wasn’t an alpha-male, gun-wielding lawman. He was a peacekeeper who loved numbers and old buildings. Wasn’t he?
“What?” he asked. “Tell me what you’re thinking. You look unhappy, and I don’t know why. Was it something I said?”
“No. Not at all. I’m glad you’re happy, and that you’re being honest. I guess I’m just wondering how well I ever knew you.” She glanced away, around the beautiful old room in a historic house he was renovating on a cop’s salary and in his spare time. “You still love architecture.”
