His heart raced. Even with the safety cord snugly secured, he kept one foot hooked under the edge of a desk. Instinct forced him to look down, and his stomach rolled. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a long blink. Rule number one—don’t look down. Why did he forget that?
“Hey, Michael.”
The kid swallowed hard. “Sergeant Samuels? What are—” His foot slipped off the ledge, but he caught himself on the edge of the window. A strangled squeal emanated from his throat as he dug his fingernails into the brick.
“You’re okay.” Bryce scooted closer. The kid was a mess. Bright-red capillaries zigzagged across the whites of his eyes, and his dark umber skin held an ashen tinge. It couldn’t have been more than forty degrees outside, but sweat poured down his face, soaking the neckline of his sweatshirt.
“No.” He shook his head and bit his bottom lip. “I’m not. I’m a lard-ass who doesn’t deserve to live.”
Bryce inched closer. “Now, where on Earth would you get an idea like that?”
Shutting his eyes, he tipped his head back against the brick. “Social media.”
Of course. “What happened?”
Michael sucked in a shaky breath. “April Cunningham.”
Bryce bit back a curse. The Queen Bee of Central High School had been on his radar for months. After his first anti-bullying speech in the school auditorium, three different girls approached him about her behavior in the hallway. Now it seemed she’d taken up cyber-bullying too. “Girls like that aren’t worth your time. They’re definitely not worth your life.”
“All I did was tell her I liked her haircut.” Tears streamed down Michael’s face. “She posted a picture of me eating at lunch with the caption, ‘This fat bastard thought he was good enough to talk to me. He should go jump off a building and spare us all from looking at his lard ass.’”
His jaw clenched. “She’s a bully, Michael. She’s not worth it.” He unhooked his foot from the desk and eased out onto the ledge. A few inches more and he’d be able to reach the kid, if he didn’t pass out from the adrenaline first. Note to self: next time, skip the coffee.
“Everyone saw it. You should see the other kids’ comments. They’re just as bad. Everyone hates me.” He shuffled farther down the ledge.
“Not everyone.” Icy wind whipped through Bryce’s hair, stinging his eyes. He gritted his teeth and inched closer to his neighbor. Please let this cable hold. “I don’t hate you. I think you’re a pretty cool guy. So does Sam.”
“Sam.” He looked at Bryce, making eye contact for the first time. “I’m supposed to walk him this afternoon.”
“I know he’s looking forward to it. He always tells me about your walks when I get home.”
Michael shook his head. “He’s a dog.”
Bryce shrugged. “Maybe not in words, but I know he loves you. So does your mom.”
He gasped. “My mom.”
“Think about how she’d feel if you did this.”
His bottom lip trembled. “I can’t leave her all alone.”
“No, you can’t.” He reached for the boy. Almost there.
Michael leaned toward him. He was nearly in his grasp. “But what else can I do?” He jerked away, and Bryce let out a hard breath.
“You can come with me. I can help you through this.”
The kid peered over the ledge and squeezed his eyes shut. “What do you know about being bullied, besides what they taught you at police school?”
His heart ached at the pain Michael must have been going through. “I know a lot more than you think. I was bullied too.”
Michael let out a dry laugh. “Yeah, right. Look at you. You’re a big, buff white guy. No one would ever mess with you.”
His throat thickened. He’d known when he’d taken this job that his embarrassing past would come to light eventually, and he’d gladly share a little bit about himself if it meant saving a family from experiencing what he’d gone through. “I wasn’t always this good-looking, kid. When I was your age, I weighed about a hundred and twenty pounds. I was a scrawny little nerd. In order to keep the bullies off my back, I had to do their homework for them.”
Michael furrowed his brow. “I don’t believe you.”
Bryce sighed. “All right. You’re the only person I’ve ever told this to, and I’ve never shown this to anyone.” He reached for his wallet and pulled out a small photograph. “This was me at seventeen.” He turned the picture toward Michael.
“I can’t see it.”
“Come closer then. If I get any farther away from this window, I’m going to vomit.”
Michael inched closer, shuffling his feet along the ledge. Reaching out, he snatched the picture from Bryce’s hand. Bryce glanced inside at Johnson and nodded as he slid back toward the window. He almost had him.
“You wore glasses,” Michael said.
“Thick ones. I was nearly blind.”
“And now?”
“Surgery.”
“Well, that’s not so bad. So you had to do some people’s homework. At least they didn’t publicly humiliate you.”
“Well, now.” He took a deep breath and cringed inwardly. He was going to have to say it. This kid’s life was worth more than his shameful secret. “That’s not entirely true. Once, I didn’t do Aubrey Taylor’s homework. He was beyond pissed.”
“What did he do?”
“Our water wasn’t running at home for a while, so I got to school early every day to shower in the locker room. When Aubrey figured that out, he followed me in and took all my clothes. When I came out of the shower, I didn’t have so much as a towel to cover myself with. So, there I was, buck-naked and dripping wet in the boys’ locker room when the first period bell rang.”
Michael’s eyes widened. “What did you do?”
“The other kids chased me into a stall. I barricaded myself in until Coach finally found me and gave me some sweats to wear home.” His face heated, the shame of the memory adding to the nausea churning in his stomach.
“Ouch.”
He laughed dryly. “Tell me about it. Can I have that picture back?”
“Why do you carry it around anyway?” Michael slid toward the window to hand the picture to Bryce. As soon as the kid got within arm’s reach, Bryce grabbed him and yanked him inside.
All two-hundred-fifty pounds of Michael landed on top of him, knocking the wind from his lungs—a small price to pay for the opportunity to save a life. He regained his breath and pulled Michael to his feet.
His neighbor threw his arms around his neck and sobbed into his shirt. “I’m so sorry, Sergeant Samuels. I don’t…I don’t know what I was thinking. I don’t want to die.”
“Hey, you’re fine now. The paramedics are going to take you to the hospital. We’ll get your mom to meet us there, okay?”
“I’m scared.” He clutched his stomach, his lips paling to a light grayish-pink.
Bryce grabbed his shoulders. “Did you do something else?”
“Vicodin.” He doubled over, vomiting down the front of Bryce’s shirt. Two paramedics took his arms and eased him onto a stretcher. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Bryce peeled the sticky, wet fabric away from his skin, the sour reek of stomach acid making him want to vomit himself. Johnson tossed him a box of tissues, and he wiped the muck from his shirt. “How many did you take?
“Twelve.”
Bryce let out a slow breath through his nose. “You want me to ride in the ambulance with you?”
He looked at him with frightened eyes. “Please?”
Alexis’s eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the fluorescent lighting. A small TV hung from the ceiling in the corner of the white room. Thin sheets and a scratchy blanket covered her achy body up to her chin. A metronomic beeping sound drew her attention toward a humming machine and a set of monitors, and as she turned her head, she focused on an IV drip and a tube that led down under the blankets, into her arm.
Oh, no.
Were
wolves healed a hundred times faster than humans. Alexis even more so. After a fall like that, she should’ve been dead. Would’ve been if she didn’t have extra healing abilities. How would she explain her recovery?
She’d rather have died from the fall than face the wrath of the congress if she exposed their secrets. Closing her eyes, she inhaled a deep breath, and sharp pain stabbed at her lungs. Why hadn’t she thought this through?
She shoved the covers down and yanked the oxygen tube from her nose. Bruises mottled her arms in varying shades of red and purple. She moved her legs. Yesterday, the bones were broken. Or had it been two days? How long had she been out? She reached for the IV, ready to yank it from her arm, when a cheerful nurse with fiery red hair and pale green scrubs entered the room.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” She shuffled to the bed and adjusted the blankets on Alexis’s lap before placing the oxygen module back into her nose and lacing the tubes over her ears. “You’re in New Orleans General Hospital.” Her fingers flew across a keyboard, and she squinted at the screen. “Well, that can’t be right.”
Alexis stared at the woman. Thoughts scrambled through her brain as she tried to devise an escape plan. Eric must have thought she was dead, or she wouldn’t be breathing. At least that part of her plan had worked.
The nurse tapped a manicured nail on the table. “According to this, your face was swollen beyond recognition a few hours ago. But I don’t detect any edema now.” She pressed her icy fingers against Alexis’s cheek bones. “Does this hurt?”
She held back a wince. “No.”
“Well, you’re lucky to be alive. That was quite an accident you had.” She returned to the computer. “What’s your name?”
“Alexis.” She clamped her mouth shut. She’d said too much.
The nurse typed on the keyboard. “Last name? You weren’t carrying ID.”
She scratched the back of her neck. “It’s…um…Sinclair.” If Eric thought she was dead, she was safe for the moment. Macey was safe. She could lay low for a while and figure out what to do about stopping Eric’s cockamamie plan—if she could get out of the hospital.
“Is there someone I can call for you? A relative? Friend?”
It felt like her brain slammed against her skull as she shook her head. It was best if no one knew where she was.
The nurse gave her a warm smile and patted her hand before hanging a new bag of fluids on a hook and connecting it to the IV tube. “I’m going to give you a little something for the pain. It might make you sleepy.” She picked up a syringe and reached for Alexis’s hand.
She jerked it away. “No. I’m not in pain. I don’t want the medicine.”
“Oh, nonsense. I can’t even see your real skin color through all those bruises.”
Alexis covered the IV with her hand and glared at the nurse. “No medicine.” No way in hell was she spending another second in this place. “I want my clothes. I want to leave.”
“I can’t let you leave until a doctor dismisses you. The police need to talk to you too.” She squinted at the computer screen. “Something’s not right about the details of your accident. It says you fell a hundred feet. Do you remember what happened to you?”
She cringed inwardly. Talking to the police was the last thing she needed. “Where’s my stuff?” She could put on a show to convince them she was well enough to leave, but it was a matter of time before they figured out she’d given them a fake name. She had to get out before they started asking questions.
“Your things are somewhere safe, and you’ll get them back as soon as you’re released. Until then…” She reached for her hand. “Please…this will help you feel better.”
“I feel fine.”
The woman sighed and laid the syringe on a tray. “I’ll go get the doctor.”
As soon as the nurse shuffled out the door, Alexis sat up. Sharp pain ricocheted through her abdomen as if she were being stabbed by three knives at once. Clutching her side, she gingerly lay back on the mattress. Her enhanced healing abilities weren’t healing her fast enough. She closed her eyes and breathed through the pain. As soon as she was capable of standing, she’d be out of there.
Bryce changed into a set of hospital scrubs and shoved his soiled clothes into a plastic bag. Michael would survive. They’d pumped his stomach, and the doctor seemed to think his liver would recover. Hopefully his mom would get him some counseling. Something. Anything to intervene in the downward spiral that had tempted him to the ledge. Bryce wouldn’t give up until the kid got the assistance he needed. This was one cry for help that would not go unanswered.
He knocked on the door to Michael’s hospital room. “How’s it going in here?”
Karen, Michael’s mom, sat on the edge of the bed, holding her son’s hand. Her dark-brown hair was mussed, as if she’d raked her hands through it too many times, and tear stains streaked her cheeks. “He’s going to be okay.” She wiped beneath her eyes, smearing makeup across her face. “Thank you for saving him.”
Bryce used his thumb to turn the ring on his right hand…the symbol of the life he couldn’t save. “Any time. And you know I’m right upstairs if you ever need anything. Both of you.” He squared his gaze on Michael. “I mean it.”
Tears pooled in the corners of the kid’s eyes. “I’m sorry I can’t walk Sam today.”
“Don’t you worry about that old fur bag. He’ll have to settle for walks with me for a while, but he’ll survive.” He looked at Karen. “You’ve got my number. Don’t be afraid to use it.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
“I’ll see you soon, kid.” He gave Michael a soft punch on the shoulder and then swallowed the lump from his throat as he stepped into the hallway and headed for the elevator. Michael was a good kid. No one deserved that kind of treatment, especially a kind-hearted soul like him. So far, Bryce hadn’t been able to bring any charges against the bully, but this time…he was going to get through to that girl one way or another.
The fact that she could get under his skin the way she did presented another set of issues, though. To consider suicide as a viable option to solve his problems meant the kid needed professional help. Bryce knew how to recognize the signs…now that it was too late for his own family…but he’d be damned if he’d let it happen to another one.
As he made his way down the hall, he spotted Lauren, a red-headed nurse with brown eyes and freckles, and he ducked his head, hoping to pass by unnoticed.
“Sergeant Samuels.” Excitement raised her voice an octave. She trotted over to him and batted her eyelashes. “Nice scrubs.” Her gaze raked up and down his body.
He held up his bag of soiled clothes. “Occupational hazard. Have a good evening, ma’am.” He tried to step around the nurse, but she caught him by the arm.
“I think we’re beyond ‘ma’am.’” She grinned. “Congratulations on the promotion, Sergeant.”
He flashed her a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks. It was a long time coming.”
“You know…” She stepped closer, resting her hand on his shoulder. “My shift ends in a few hours. If you want to come over, I could give you a proper congratulations.”
“Lauren…” He tried to make his voice firm and compassionate at the same time.
She pouted her lower lip. “My bed’s been awful cold without you.”
“That was one time, six months ago, and I told you I wasn’t looking for a relationship.” He removed her hand from his shoulder and gave it a squeeze before dropping it. “I thought I made that clear.” This was exactly why he did his best to steer clear of women. He wasn’t the settling-down type of guy, but they never seemed to understand that…always wanting to get to know him. They may have liked the package, but there was nothing on the inside they’d really want to know.
She sighed. “You did. I just thought…” She shrugged. “Anyway. Before you go, there’s an alleged suicide attempt in room two-eleven. Jumped from a transmission tower. They pronounced her dead at the scene, but she wok
e up in the ambulance on the way to the morgue. The details of the accident seem…off. Not a single broken bone.”
He looked at his watch and blew out a breath. His shift had ended two hours ago.
“There’s a detective coming to talk to her about it, but I thought…since you’re into rescuing people now and all…that you might want to see her.”
Another suicide attempt? His shoulders sagged as the weight of her words pressed down on him. “Show me the way.” He followed Lauren into the room and found a woman lying on her side, her back to the door.
Her short blonde hair stuck out in every direction, and she grumbled as they approached the bed. “I don’t want the medicine.”
“That’s okay.” Lauren rested a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “This is Sergeant Samuels. He needs to ask you a few questions.”
The woman rolled over gingerly, grimacing in pain from whatever had happened to her. Her arms were mottled with bruises, and a ring of dark purple encircled her left eye.
Bryce’s pulse thrummed. She was battered, and her hair was shorter, but he would have recognized that face anywhere.
His breath caught in his throat. “Alexis?” He stepped closer to the bed and took her hand in his. “What happened to you?”
Her eyes widened, and she squeezed his fingers. She gave a tiny shake of her head and furrowed her brow. His heart wrenched at the sight of her, but the imploring look in her eyes stopped him from saying more.
“Oh, you know her?” Lauren typed something on the computer. “She didn’t want me to call anyone for her.”
He glanced at the nurse. “I do. I can take it from here.”
Alexis released his hand and let out a long breath.
“Okay. I’ve got other patients to check on, so go ahead and do your thing, Sergeant.” She swung her hips as she sauntered past him, stopping to rub her hand up his arm. “If you change your mind about this evening.”
He stiffened. “I won’t.” And with Alexis back in town, he never would. She was the one woman he wouldn’t mind getting to know.
“Well, if you do, you know where to find me.” Lauren winked and slipped into the hallway.
Bound by Blood (Crescent City Wolf Pack Book 3) Page 4
