by Janie Crouch
She nodded. Her heart still beat erratically but otherwise she didn’t feel too bad. But Steve was right—better to let them check her out, just in case.
“Damn drunk driver. You guys are lucky to be alive,” the manager said. “I mean, the way he reversed like that? Couldn’t figure out which way was forward.”
Rosalyn looked over at Steve. His eyes said the same thing as hers. That had been no drunk driver.
“Are you okay?” she asked him. “You’re the one who got hit by the car.”
He let out a small groan as he sat down on the asphalt beside her. “Yeah, nothing broken, I’m pretty sure.”
Activity buzzed around them, but Rosalyn and Steve just sat in silence. His hand was never far from her stomach. Soon the ambulance and police showed up. Rosalyn was assisted onto the stretcher and put inside the ambulance while Steve talked to the cops.
She didn’t know exactly what he said to them, but within minutes the ambulance was on its way and Steve was riding beside her. He left her side only when they arrived at the hospital, to talk to some member of the staff.
Again, Rosalyn couldn’t hear but twenty minutes later she was being seen by the hospital’s chief OB-GYN physician even though it was nearly ten o’clock at night. Dr. Puglisi had her hooked up to an ultrasound machine as soon as she heard what happened.
“There,” Dr. Puglisi said, pointing to the monitor. “Good, strong heartbeat. Baby is absolutely fine.”
Tears poured down Rosalyn’s cheeks as she grabbed Steve’s hand beside her. “Thank God.”
“A woman’s body is pretty amazing at protecting the fetus growing inside it. It generally takes more than a fall to cause real problems.” Dr. Puglisi moved the ultrasound wand. “Do you know the gender of the baby?”
Rosalyn shook her head. “Not yet. It was scheduled for my next appointment.”
“Would you like to know?”
Rosalyn looked over at Steve but he just shrugged. “That’s completely up to you.”
She tried not to show the hurt she felt by his nonchalance but knew she couldn’t blame Steve. It was too soon.
Rosalyn turned back to the doctor. “Yes, I’d like to know, if you can tell.”
The doctor smiled. “Congratulations—your strong resilient baby is a boy.”
Chapter Eight
He was going to have a son.
Dr. Puglisi had run a number of tests on Rosalyn, just to double-check that everything was okay. That she was healthy, the baby was healthy and nothing was going to creep up on them unawares.
Some of the tests she did were to establish the gestational age of the child.
Every indication was that the fetus was twenty-five weeks developed. That would mean he was conceived six months ago.
Steve knew that didn’t mean the baby was his. But it was definitely a step closer.
The most important thing right now was that both Rosalyn and the baby were healthy. His flying tackle hadn’t hurt either of them in any way.
When he’d seen that car speeding toward Rosalyn his heart had stopped. Only years of training, his body responding almost before his mind did, had him moving forward to get her out of the way.
Drunk driver, his ass.
Steve might possibly have believed it if the guy hadn’t backed up to run over him.
Someone had been trying to kill Rosalyn or Steve or both of them. He’d made it look like he was a drunk driver, but after everything Rosalyn had told him, that was one coincidence too many.
Funny thing was, until the attack happened, he hadn’t really believed Rosalyn about her Watcher theory. To Steve, her description of the situation broke too many of the typical patterns that would be found in a stalker committed enough to kill people.
He’d spent the last hour in a room the hospital had lent him for privacy, on the phone with Sheriff Harvey Palmer. He explained about Rosalyn and her twin, Lindsey. Explained how Lindsey’s prints weren’t in the system but Rosalyn’s were, although he still didn’t know why.
Steve also told Palmer what had happened with the car. A dark two-door Toyota with no plates wasn’t going to be particularly helpful, but the sheriff agreed to run the description against other incidents in the area. Maybe they’d get lucky.
Steve finished the call by telling Palmer he’d be taking Rosalyn with him out of Florida.
He was going to take her to Colorado Springs. Back to Omega Critical Response headquarters. If they were fighting some villain intent on hurting Rosalyn and her baby, Steve planned to fight on his own turf.
Once he finished with Sheriff Palmer, he called his office.
“Steve Drackett’s office.”
“Angela, it’s me.” Someone was in Steve’s office twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week to be able to field calls that might come from as far up as the White House. Angela tended to work the evening shifts.
“Hey, boss. I thought you were taking a couple of personal days.”
“I was, but my situation has changed. I’m going to need you to book me two tickets on a flight from Pensacola to Colorado Springs for as early as possible tomorrow. Me and a Rosalyn Mellinger.”
“Okay, no problem. I’ll text you with the details.”
“Anything exciting happening around the office?”
“All in all, a pretty quiet day. If you can believe it.”
A quiet day might have only meant there were no events threatening national security.
“I’m glad to hear it. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“See you then, sir.”
A doctor had already looked over Steve’s wounds—some road rash and bruises—and declared him free to go. What had happened tonight could’ve been much worse.
He walked down the hallway and saw Rosalyn joking with one of the nurses. He was struck again by her natural beauty and animation.
It could’ve been much, much worse.
He’d spent six months angry with her, followed by a day of terrible sadness when he thought she was dead. He’d then been given the precious gift of a second chance when he’d found out she was alive.
Her smile still took his breath away just like it had six months ago.
“You ready to go?” he asked her.
She jumped down from the table. “Yep. Dr. Puglisi said I was done as soon as you were.”
“Good. It’s getting pretty late. I think we both could use some sleep. We’ll go back to my hotel like we’d originally planned.”
A uniformed officer had driven Rosalyn’s car over from the scene of the accident at Steve’s request. He opened the door for her to get in and made his way over to the driver’s side.
He eased slowly out of the parking lot and began to drive. He didn’t go directly to the hotel, instead took leisurely routes going nowhere near where they would be staying.
After an hour Steve was absolutely positive no one was following them. He’d actually been sure of it for twenty minutes before that, but Rosalyn had fallen asleep and waking her up seemed heartless. She’d had a hell of a day. First Steve pulling a gun on her, then someone trying to kill her. Not to mention dealing with her sister’s recent death.
She deserved a nap.
They had so much they needed to talk about. He needed to find out all the details she had about the Watcher. Needed to know where she’d been for the last six months.
Needed to tell her that he was the director of an elite law enforcement agency and was probably more uniquely situated to protect her than anyone else. Even though he’d almost been killed today.
Yes, it was possible it was a drunk driver who had nearly run them over, but Steve would still be on high guard until he knew exactly what it was they were up against.
He drove around a few more minutes before pulling the c
ar up to his hotel on the beach. He got out and looked around for a few minutes, making sure no one had picked them up in the last few minutes. Unlikely but possible.
Nothing. It was completely quiet in the parking lot. The beach was deserted also. All to be expected at nearly midnight on a Wednesday.
Steve walked over and got Rosalyn’s duffel bag out of the trunk. She was still clutching her tote bag in her arms, just like she had been when he’d known her six months ago.
He opened her door and nudged her gently on the shoulder. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, let’s get you inside so you can sleep properly.”
Her eyes barely opened but she got out of the car. He put an arm around her and led her through the lobby and up the elevator to their room on the seventh floor. He used his key card to get in.
This room was definitely less romantic than the setup six months ago. But from the look in Rosalyn’s tired eyes, she didn’t care about romance tonight.
“I’m just going to go straight to bed. Is that okay?” She lay down on the bed, on top of the covers, shoes still on. Evidently, having only one bed didn’t bother her. She was sound asleep again.
Steve set her duffel bag on the chair and walked over to her. He untied and slipped off her athletic shoes. He then lifted her body with one arm—it shouldn’t be that easy; if they hadn’t just been reassured by one of the best doctors in the area that Rosalyn was perfectly healthy, Steve would’ve worried much more about how little she weighed—so he could tuck her under the blankets.
She never even stirred.
Steve shook his head, smiling. She was like a child. He didn’t know if that was how she normally slept or if it was a product of exhaustion, pregnancy and stress.
It had been a long day. Steve took a shower, wincing at the sting of the water against his scrapes, and changed into fresh clothes.
Tomorrow he would have Rosalyn in Colorado. He realized she hadn’t actually agreed to that yet. He wasn’t trying to keep the information a secret, but neither was it up for negotiation. Steve needed to figure out what was going on. The Critical Response Division headquarters was the best place for him to do that.
The body of Rosalyn’s sister still needed to be taken care of, but Rosalyn’s mother would have to do that. He hoped Rosalyn wouldn’t fight him about going to Colorado.
Not because he wouldn’t take her if she did. He would still take her. It would just make it much more difficult.
But he’d fight that battle if he came to it. Right now she was sleeping peacefully and he should do the same.
He slid next to her into the king-size bed. His body wanted to grab her and pull her into his arms, but he knew that wasn’t wise. Too many unresolved issues between them. Until he knew exactly what was happening, how much he could trust her, he knew he needed to keep his distance.
He looked over at Rosalyn, who had turned onto her side in an attempt to get more comfortable. She looked innocent, lovely, fragile.
But in his line of work he’d learned how very easy it was for looks to deceive.
He would keep on his side of the bed. It was better for everyone that way.
* * *
STEVE WOKE UP and immediately sensed something was wrong.
Rosalyn lay completely snuggled in his arms, draped over him like a blanket. So much for keeping his distance from her.
But that wasn’t what was wrong.
He looked over at the window. No light was peeking through, so it was obviously still night. He estimated about four o’clock in the morning.
What had awakened him?
He listened for any sounds that would be foreign. Someone trying to break into the room or yells from farther away.
Nothing.
Then he smelled it. Smoke. Too heavy to be just some cigarette somebody was toking on illegally on a balcony.
He shook Rosalyn. “Wake up, sweetheart.”
She just mumbled and tried to move away from the hands disturbing her sleep. Steve shook her again. “Rosalyn, come on, you need to wake up.” He pulled her until she was in a sitting position.
“What’s going on?” she asked, blinking multiple times. “Is it morning?”
“There’s trouble, I’m pretty sure.”
He ran over to the door. He could see smoke seeping under the crack. He ran back and grabbed the hotel phone. As soon as someone answered, he barked out, “I’m in room 742. There’s a fire in the hallway but the alarm isn’t sounding. You need to call the fire department and get some sort of alarm working.”
He didn’t wait for the person to answer. He grabbed one of Rosalyn’s shoes. “Can you put these on or do you need help?”
“I can do it. I’m slow, but I can get them.”
He handed her one shoe and put the other on her foot himself. “We’re going to have to get out of here. I’m not sure how bad the smoke and fire will be.”
She grabbed her tote bag and pulled it over her shoulder. Fine, she could take that, but the rest of the stuff would have to stay.
He stood and led her to the bathroom. “Soak these towels. We’ll keep them over our faces to protect us from the fire and smoke as best we can.”
She began running water over them as he went to check the door again. The smoke was even heavier under the crack.
He opened the door slightly to see exactly what they were up against. He couldn’t see three feet down the hall, the smoke was so thick. There was no way they’d be able to wait for the fire department to get up to their floor.
He shut the door, taking the wet towels from her. “It’s bad out there. We’re not going to be able to see much of anything. But we need to make it to the stairs.”
“I don’t know where they are.” Panic pinched her face. “Are they near the elevator?”
“No.” As a force of habit Steve had memorized the general layout of the hotel when he’d checked in. “They’re a little bit farther. Just keep hold of my hand, no matter what.”
She nodded, eyes big. He wrapped one of the wet towels around the lower part of her face. “I’m not sure the extent of the fire, but the smoke is thick out there. It’s going to be rough. Stay low and breathe through the towel as much as possible.”
When he opened the door again, he immediately felt heat to the right. The fire was closer than it had been moments ago.
And blocking their way to the stairs.
“We’re going to have to go to the far staircase,” he told Rosalyn. “Stay with me no matter what.”
She nodded and he pulled the door open farther. Smoke immediately filled their room. Steve bent at the waist to get lower than the worst of the smoke in the hall. He knew bending that way would be difficult for Rosalyn. He was glad she was significantly shorter than he was to start with.
He lost all visibility only a few feet from their hotel room. He had to rely on his instincts and his mind’s ability to process spatial data to get them to where they needed to be.
He could feel Rosalyn’s small hand in his and knew that if he made a mistake, missed the door to the stairs or turned down the wrong hall, it could mean their deaths.
About halfway to where he estimated the stairs were, the smoke got so thick they had to crawl. Steve’s eyes burned, although the wet towel at least protected his throat from the worst of the smoke.
He turned back to Rosalyn. Tears were streaming from her eyes. He knew his looked the same.
“Pull the towel all the way over your face,” he yelled back at her. “I’ll guide you out.”
She didn’t argue, just pulled the towel past her nose, over her eyes. It wouldn’t help her for long, but it had to be better than nothing.
She was putting her trust in him completely to guide her out. He wouldn’t let her down.
He crawled as rapidly as he could—feeling her h
and on his ankle as she crawled behind him—until he found what he hoped was the right door. If not, they would be in dire straits. He could feel heat licking behind them.
The sound of glass breaking came from the other end of the hall, probably firefighters, but they wouldn’t get the blaze and smoke under control quickly enough to help Rosalyn and Steve.
Steve reached up from his crawl to the door handle and sighed in relief when it opened.
They were at the stairs. Steve dragged Rosalyn inside the much cooler stairwell. People were running down the stairs, some crying, some screaming.
Steve stood and scooped Rosalyn up in his arms. He pulled the towel down from her face to find her looking out at him with those blue eyes.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, voice a little husky. “I can walk.”
He shook his head. He wasn’t going to take a chance on her getting trampled or knocked down the stairs by someone in a panic.
He’d almost lost her twice today. And that was after he’d already ID’d her dead body.
He carried her to safety himself.
Chapter Nine
Rosalyn found herself being checked out by Dr. Puglisi for the second time in eight hours. Another ultrasound.
And thank God again both she and the baby were all right.
“I can admit you if you want, especially since it seems like fate wants you here in the hospital.” Dr. Puglisi peered over her medical chart at Rosalyn. “But honestly, there’s no reason for you to stay.”
Rosalyn’s eyes and throat hurt, like Steve had told her his did. Neither of them had inhaled enough smoke to do any real damage, thanks to Steve’s quick thinking and ability to get them to the stairwell and out of the smoke rapidly.
“You’re fortunate, of course,” the doctor continued. “Both times tonight. Especially for someone who seems to be a magnet for trouble.”
“I don’t want to stay at the hospital if I don’t have to, and if the baby is safe.” Rosalyn put a hand protectively over her stomach.
“That little guy is perfectly fine. As a matter of fact, any day now you’re going to be feeling him move more pronouncedly.”
