by Jodie Bailey
Scratching behind his neck, Marcus tilted his head. “Can’t comment. Can say the last I heard was his phone pinged near Johnson City.”
Travis exhaled the breath it felt like he’d been holding for hours, letting his shoulders sag. With Johnson City a four-hour drive away, Phil couldn’t possibly be close enough to harm Casey tonight.
But if he really was on the other side of the state, who’d attacked Casey and killed Meredith? While it did appear Dylan was responsible for some of the dirty work, the kind of violence inflicted on John was a whole lot more personal than a hired hand would have dealt out. And he’d never believe that Meredith was behind all of this. The confession on her computer—to a murder that had not yet been committed—made him even more certain of his old friend’s innocence.
Marcus snapped his fingers in front of Travis’s face. “You taking a space walk, Heath?”
“No. I thought the puzzle was all together but I’m still missing some pieces.”
“Let the professionals handle it. You take care of getting your girlfriend well.”
“She’s not...” Travis shook his head, ignoring the way his heart called him a liar. “Never mind. It’s complicated.”
Marcus’s laughter echoed off the window to their left, which looked out into a small atrium. The few people in the lobby turned to toss them a wave. “Man, you ain’t even right. You’re in love with the woman. Knew it from the minute I saw you staring at her at Winslow’s house. You’d have taken out anybody who dared to even look at her sideways. So why aren’t you telling her? Get over yourself, haul your rear into town first thing in the morning and buy her a ring. Done and done.”
“Says the man who quit the army because his wife couldn’t hack it.” Travis winced at the bitterness in his own words. A low blow, coming at the guy’s wife, especially when Travis had never even met her. “Dude, I’m sorry. That was wrong.”
“With all you’ve been through, you’re due a few sharp words.” Shrugging, Marcus lifted a slight smile. “Got a minute?”
“If you don’t mind walking with me to grab Casey something to eat.”
“I’ve got nothing but time.”
They kept pace with one another in the hallway, their footfalls unusually loud in the silence.
Marcus paused, taking something from the quiet before he spoke. “Look, I like to tell people my wife’s the reason we settled down, but truth is, I didn’t want to play the game anymore. I still wanted to serve, but I wanted to be around when the kids started school and not have to worry about shuffling them from place to place. Besides, some guys go in knowing they want the military for a career, and some only want a few years to get direction.” He held up a hand as though he thought Travis was going to interject. “Not a thing wrong with either way of life. God’s got a different calling for each of us, you know?”
Travis nodded, trying to figure out where this was going. “But what if you’re not sure anymore what you’re being called to?”
“You mean you can’t decide whether to stay in or get out?”
“I’m staying, no doubt. More like what I’ll do if I stay.”
“Thought you wanted to be an infantry first sergeant. Ride the ride for twenty or more then retire. Isn’t that what you told me pretty much every day we were stationed together?”
It’s what he’d always thought. Until a hot desert day when everything he thought he knew blew away with a roar.
“Let me ask you something.” Marcus stopped in the middle of the brightly lit hallway and turned toward Travis. “Deep in the deepest part of you, what is it you really want? I’m not talking about what somebody told you or what you think you’re obligated to do or what some TV show said was right. What’s the dream God put in you, Heath? The one you know is all yours. The one that, when you think about it, it brings you peace. Because let me tell you something... If you can’t find peace, then you probably aren’t on the path God created you for.” He shrugged and grinned, poking his index finger into Travis’s biceps. “Then again, brother, those are my two cents. Take ’em or leave ’em.”
Travis was too stunned to speak. How was it he’d finally promised God he’d listen, and He’d answered so quickly?
And how was it God sounded an awful lot like Marcus Brewer?
Travis stood in the middle of the hallway, looking first toward the cafeteria and then back the way he’d come, toward Casey and staying in the infantry and the peace he’d been chasing for years.
In front of him, Marcus chuckled then rolled his eyes. He grabbed Travis and turned him toward the lobby, then pointed over his shoulder. “That way, brother. I’ll find you and bring some food with me. You go do what I think you’ve known all along you need to do. You worry about your woman, and you let me and mine worry about Ingram.”
Travis’s muscles practically itched to run to Casey, but something held him in place. A thought he couldn’t quite grab onto.
Marcus shoved him. “Get your feet moving. She’s waiting.”
“No. There’s something...” Travis tried to shove his emotions aside to clear his thoughts. “Meredith. It’s something Meredith said when we were at the barn.”
“What?” Marcus’s mirth disappeared, and his hand went for his hip pocket. He pulled out his cell phone, thumb poised to dial. “I know that look. You’re about to give us what we need to tie this thing up.”
Closing his eyes, Travis pictured the walk from the parking lot to the barn and Meredith turning toward him. I’m ready to go home and grab a few minutes of peace around the fire pit. Bet Phil would love it if you came along.
There it was. Phil had been at the house when Travis and Casey were there, but he hadn’t made an appearance. Even now, with his wife dead from what looked to be a suicide, he was conspicuously absent. He’d had time to murder Meredith and vanish before the police gained a warrant to access the clinic where she was found. And sizing up the man he’d done battle with in the barn, he was almost certain... He’d been fighting Phil for Casey’s life.
Travis paced backward along the hallway, each step faster than the last. “Phil’s in town. Casey needs protection. Deacon, too. Trust me.” Without waiting to see how Marcus reacted, Travis turned and ran for the stairs. Phil worked in the hospital and knew how to get around without being seen. He had wide-open access to Deacon and now, to Casey.
Travis’s steps echoed in the hallway as his lungs protested the exertion. He had to get to Casey before Phil finished what he’d started.
* * *
Casey stared at the blank TV screen and wished Travis would hurry. Dr. Walters hadn’t been in the room two minutes before her pager went off and she’d excused herself, leaving Casey alone. Lying here with no backup and tethered to the bed by an IV line only hours after someone had tried to kill her made her edgy, and the lingering effects of the ketamine weren’t helping. If she knew where her cell phone was, she’d call Travis and be every bit the pitiful specimen of human being she felt like at the moment, telling him to forget the food and come hold her hand because she was afraid of the dark.
Stupid. Casey slid higher in the bed and pressed the button to ease herself upright. She was a soldier. Maybe not a battle-hardened Ranger like Travis and Lucas, but she was still a soldier, and this was definitely behavior she ought not to fall prey to.
One thing she did know for certain, though... As soon as Travis returned and they were alone, she was going to tell him the truth she’d started to tell him when Dr. Walters stepped in. It might be cliché, but fighting for her life had caused something inside her to click into place. Her value wasn’t in the eyes of others, and she’d spent far too long thinking it was. When she’d dated Travis, she’d been in awe, always wondering what a man like him could possibly see in her, always believing he’d walk away one day because he’d suddenly awakened and realized he could do better. She’
d never seen it before, but lying here now after almost losing everything, she knew her value, and it wasn’t in the eyes of men. It was in the eyes of God.
Her love for Travis had been selfish, seeking validation and completion that he was never created to give her. Now, she knew... She loved him for the man he was, the one who made her laugh, the one who always had her back, the one she’d sacrifice for if she had to.
If Travis rejected her, it would cut to her soul, but she’d survive. She didn’t need him to make her whole, but she wanted him in her life because, without him, life would be a whole lot emptier. And it would be missing a huge, crucial piece.
As if on cue, two taps sounded, but no one came in. Maybe he thought Dr. Walters was still in the room. “It’s fine. They’re gone.”
The door edged open and a man slipped in, shutting the door behind him before recognition kicked in.
It wasn’t Travis.
Phil Ingram stood at the foot of the bed, eyeing her with a grim tilt to the side of his mouth.
Casey tried to scream, but he was next to her in an instant, his hand over her mouth, pressing her against the bed. She struggled, her limbs weak from the effects of the drugs still lingering in her system and no match for the man who had several inches and several pounds on her.
The monitors beside her had to be registering her change in breathing and heart rate, pinging to the nurses that something was wrong. One of them had to check on her soon. Casey just had to stay alive until they did.
With the last fight she had in her, Casey twisted her head and clamped down on Phil’s hand hard, trying to hold on. If he was going to kill her, she’d be sure he left plenty of DNA evidence behind.
With a silent growl, he tore his hand from her mouth, then backhanded her. The force to the side of her face knocked her sideways, pain dragging tears from her eyes and leaving her dazed, stealing what remained of her fight.
While she struggled to recover, he punched buttons on the monitors and turned to face her, breathing heavily, the hatred he exuded thickening the air in the small room until Casey felt as though she couldn’t survive under the suffocating weight of it. “This would have been a whole lot easier if you hadn’t fought.” He swiped at the sweat on his forehead with his injured hand, leaving a streak of blood behind.
Casey fought the pain and panic that paralyzed her, trying to get her mouth to work, her arms to move, but like in every nightmare she’d ever had, her body refused to respond, and her mouth refused to make a sound.
Keeping a hard eye on her, Phil reached into his pocket and produced a large syringe filled with a cloudy liquid. “I just left Deacon Lewis’s room. Chances are, he’s gone or close to it. Once we’re done here and once Travis goes home and overdoses in his grief, everyone will think all this death rests squarely on Meredith’s shoulders.” He pulled the cap from the vial, then, like a snake, reached over and grabbed Casey’s arm, jerking it toward him, the IV in her hand twisting and bringing more breath-stealing pain. She struggled, but he squeezed her wrist until it throbbed.
He laid the needle against the vein on the inside of her arm.
The door opened. “Casey, you—”
Phil jerked, and the needle pierced Casey’s skin then fell away, clattering to the floor.
Travis.
He filled the doorway, his face hard with rage. “Back away, Ingram, or I’ll kill you myself.” Keeping his eye on Phil, he tilted his head and yelled into the hallway, “Call security!”
Phil took the opportunity to lunge for the door, but Travis was ready for him. He stepped to the side. As soon as Phil was close, Travis grabbed him and, using the other man’s momentum, swung him into the frame of the door with a loud crash, then let him slump to the floor in the hall before both men dropped from view.
Casey sank into the bed and let her eyes slip closed, tears sliding down her cheeks as shouts and footsteps blasted in from the hallway. Ebbing adrenaline left her limp and shaking, unable to take in the chaos around her.
“Casey.” A familiar voice broke through the noise, guiding her into reality. She opened her eyes to find Travis standing over her. “You’re safe. Phil’s in custody. It’s over.”
She smiled what felt like the first smile she’d been able to muster in days. Not quite able to believe the threat was really over, she reached for him with a trembling hand. “Never, ever leave me alone again.”
He rested his forehead against hers as more bodies poured into the room. His whisper was for her alone. “I won’t. I promise.”
TWENTY
Casey shut the door behind her mother and dropped her head against the metal for a moment, reveling in the silence before she headed to the kitchen to find something to drink. Sometimes her throat ached so much she felt as though she’d never get enough water ever again.
In the living room, Travis dropped onto the couch and snapped his fingers, calling Gus over. The dog had been a constant companion ever since Casey had left the hospital, apparently slipping back into Travis’s life as though he’d never left.
It made Casey a little bit jealous, the way Gus got to be so close to him while she had to stay at arm’s length. He’d kept his distance since Phil had been arrested, but that might be because they hadn’t been alone since. Her mother had arrived and hovered as though Casey were an infant all over again. Although she appreciated the love from Mom, what she really wanted was Travis all to herself.
And now that her mother had decided to make a run to the grocery store, Casey had what she wanted and had no idea what to do with it.
Gus whined softly as Travis rubbed his ear, as though he couldn’t get enough. Travis looked the same way. He’d found his best friend again, and it showed. He looked up from his seat in the den and caught her watching. “Was Kristin as fun when she got out of the hospital as you are?”
From the kitchen, Casey looked over the counter and widened her eyes in mock fear. “She was terrible. So, so terrible. It’s a wonder Lucas could bear to be around her.” She turned to hide her grin and tugged open the refrigerator door, her body still protesting the abuse from several days ago, her arm screaming a bruised reminder of the rough treatment it had endured at Phil Ingram’s hand.
That first night in the hospital, she hadn’t been able to sleep, still convinced somehow the man would evade the police and find her. Even with her friends in the room, she’d felt exposed and vulnerable. Last night, with Kristin in the spare room and Travis on her couch, had been a little bit easier. Still, she jumped at every sound and constantly had to remind herself nobody was hunting for her anymore.
Phil was in custody and, once Dylan had realized the other man was caught, he’d started talking, probably hoping for a plea deal for his cooperation. Marcus had dropped by last night to fill them in on the details.
Phil had read Casey’s story on recovering addicts and realized both Deacon and John had talked to her. Believing her latest conversations with them would out him for stealing medications from his wife to sell on the street, he’d first had Dylan steal her laptop to find out what she knew. When it was password protected, he’d gone after John, beating the man to death in a rage when he let slip he may have mentioned Phil to Casey in a prior interview and he’d also put her in touch with Deacon.
Phil had intended to do away with Deacon before he could talk, but he’d miscalculated what it would take to kill the bigger man.
He’d gone straight after Casey, believing she knew enough to take him down. He’d drugged her in the barn with the intention of hauling her away and killing her where the deed would leave no evidence connecting her to him, but Travis had found her while Phil was dealing with Meredith, who’d figured out what he was doing.
And now, it was over.
Except the fear still lingered. And so did Travis’s impending departure.
“There’s
no shame in counseling, you know.” Travis’s voice was too close behind her.
Casey jumped and slammed the refrigerator door shut, then leaned her forehead against the cool stainless steel, absentmindedly running her fingers across Gus’s head when he nudged her knee. “Who said I needed help? I’m fine.” Right now marked the first time she’d been alone with Travis in days, and here she was pacing and thinking instead of looking him in the eye to tell him everything she’d realized in the hospital. He left for selection in two days, and if she didn’t say it now, she might never get the chance.
Instead, they were discussing her mental state. This was all going sideways.
Laying a gentle hand on her shoulder, Travis turned Casey toward him and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “You jump when the a/c kicks on. You pace your room all night. And you stood there for about three minutes staring into the fridge without moving.” He slid back but kept his hands locked at her waist, then planted a kiss on her forehead. “Talk to somebody.”
“I’m talking to you right now.”
“You know what I mean.” He released her to lean against the opposite counter, crossing his arms, making his biceps stand out more than they usually did. “There’s no shame in asking for help. If I’d been smart and not so determined to be a gung ho GI Joe, I might have talked to someone sooner and not almost derailed my life the way I did.”
Easing herself onto the counter next to the fridge, Casey slid back and tapped her heels against the bottom cabinet door, trying to appear unaffected by the change in his tone. Hope surged. Maybe this was the conversation she’d been longing to have. “How did you almost derail your life?”
Travis crossed the small kitchen in two steps and leaned against the counter between her knees, planting his hands on either side of her hips. The blue in his eyes deepened in a way she’d seen before and once thought she’d never see again. The shiver that ran along her spine this time wasn’t fear. It was much more pleasant.
