by Liz Johnson
“Am I at the top of the list yet?” Cody asked. Kristi grabbed at his pointy shoulder to shush him. Cody sounded far too excited. Especially when she and the doctor both understood that his best day would be someone else’s worst.
“I’m afraid not,” Guthrie said. “But you’re getting close. For now, you can stay at home, but…”
She knew that but. If Cody’s condition continued to deteriorate, he’d need to be admitted until his transplant. Dr. Guthrie had warned her of that during their first appointment.
He’d have to leave his car models and his quiet room and his very cool night-light. And he’d probably miss most of the Christmas season.
Cody would hate it.
So she shook her head at the doctor. “Please. There must be something we can do.”
He nodded slowly. “For now we’re going to set you up with a portable oxygen tank.” As he wrote a quick note on his prescription pad, he directed her to a medical supply store. “I want him to use this all day and at night.” Turning his attention to Cody, he motioned long, narrow fingers toward his nose. “The oxygen will help you feel more awake, and it’ll come through a tube that fits over your ears and right into your nose. Think you can keep it on all day?”
Cody shrugged. “I guess.”
“You mean, ‘Yes, sir,’” Kristi corrected.
Ducking his head in chagrin, Cody agreed. “Yes, sir.”
Dr. Guthrie leaned in, a soft smile on his usually firm face. “If you have a hard time with it at first, take it out for five minutes every hour until you’re used to it.”
Suddenly Cody’s face lit up, and Kristi had a feeling it had nothing to do with the doctor’s five-minute reprieve.
“Zach!”
She spun so fast that her neck popped, but she hardly noticed when her gaze settled on the broad form leaning against the exam room doorjamb. His hazel eyes were bright and alert, and some of the color that had drained from his lips had returned. But his left arm was in a black sling, held tight against his body.
She sailed across the room, and before she could even process her own intent, she’d thrown her arms around his waist. It seemed to release a burst of a chuckle, which ended on a soft groan.
“Oh!” She jumped back in time to see him physically working to relax the lines around his mouth. “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? What are you doing here? We were going to go to the ER right—” She waved toward the doctor. “We were going to go find you as soon as we were done.”
He managed a strained smile. “No need. They patched me up and gave me some fluids and sent me on my way.”
Dr. Guthrie eyed Zach with a heavy dollop of suspicion but said nothing. It didn’t help the knot in her stomach. Zach swayed just a bit, and she almost grabbed for him before he leaned his good shoulder against the door frame.
His gaze never moved from hers, but there was a flickering in his eyes, a moment where he wasn’t as focused as he wanted her to believe he was.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I’m not.” Little lines took up residence around his eyes, even though the rest of his face didn’t move. “Better me than you.” His gaze traveled across the room. “Or Cody.”
Her stomach churned. Cody had been only a few inches away from that bullet. She’d come far too close to losing the person she loved most in the world, and her only response was a three-word prayer. Thank You, God.
But what would happen if Cole found his mark the next time and Cody lost her?
FIVE
“Good morning.”
Zach thought the greeting was innocuous enough, but Kristi still fumbled her coffee cup. He jumped out of the way just in time, letting the steaming joe slosh to the dark gray tile of the kitchen floor.
This wasn’t the first time she’d dropped her coffee in his presence. Apparently he had quite the effect on her coffee-drinking habits.
But he couldn’t be the only reason she was now trembling. Not after the shooting that had taken place just three days before.
“I’m sorry.” Leaning her hand against the counter, she hung her head, presumably so she didn’t have to look him in the eye.
“You thinking about Jackson Cole?”
This brought forth a Bambi stare—all big eyes and innocence—from beneath the fringe of her bangs. “All the time.”
He moved to pat her shoulder, to offer whatever comfort he could, but stopped just short of her threadbare blue robe.
“Listen, we’re going to get through this.”
“How do you know? You don’t know that! You don’t know what’s going to happen. You can’t control it. I mean—look at you.”
True. His arm was in a sling, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire, especially after the pain medications from the ER had worn off. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from standing by her side.
From standing between her and Cole.
When the urge hit him again to reach for her, he didn’t deny it. Running a hand down her arm, he squeezed her elbow. “We’ll make it through together.”
Suddenly she ripped her arm out of his grip, and the voice that emerged sounded wholly unlike her. Fire sizzled in her eyes. “Aaron used to say that.”
His heart slammed against his breastbone at the agony in her words. He’d felt pain before at the loss of his best friend. But this was new. It wasn’t the stinging reminder of Aaron and their summers running barefoot by the creek. It wasn’t the missed stories they had yet to share or the shared past they’d rehashed a hundred times.
This was different. It wasn’t his own grief that kicked him in the chest.
He ached for Kristi. His heart broke because hers did.
And he could offer only impotent promises about things he couldn’t control. After all, she was right to remind him that he couldn’t stop a bullet, that he couldn’t control Cole, especially when he still hadn’t been found. The cops had searched the hospital grounds, and the crime scene unit had hunted out any evidence. And they’d come up with nothing.
Which didn’t make any sense. If the shooter was able to get away without leaving a trace, he had to know what he was doing. So how had he missed Kristi by almost two feet?
“We’re—”
She whipped up her hand to cut him off. “Please. Don’t.”
“All right.” He wasn’t exactly sure what he was agreeing to, but it was certainly something she felt strongly about, so he was willing to comply. “What…what can I do?”
Her gaze swung toward the living room, where Cody’s Corvette blanket hung over the arm of the couch, the little boy intent on a TV show about two guys who fixed up rusted-out muscle cars and resold them for more money than Zach earned in a year. The little man was either engrossed in it or he had sacked out for another nap.
“I’m scared.” Her words were barely a breath, and he wasn’t entirely sure she’d meant to speak them. Yet they tugged at the part of his heart that demanded he be honest with her.
“I am, too.”
She spun to look into his face. “You are?”
“Of course. I got shot.”
Just as he’d hoped she would, she let out a little laugh. Then she clamped a hand over her mouth as though she wasn’t quite sure it was okay to laugh at his injury.
Better laughter than tears, he’d always thought. So he joined her.
“We’re in the middle of something serious, and we have to find Jackson Cole before he strikes again.” He shrugged his good shoulder, careful to keep the other unmoved. “As much as I hate to say it, I’m not at full capacity.”
Her eyes narrowed. “How are you feeling? You’ve been putting on a brave face, but there was a lot of blood.”
This was a little too much concern. Even from the woman wearing his ring. He wasn’t completely unused to people caring about him—his brothers on the teams cared. They just showed it in a more…gritty way. So he blurted out the only thing that came to mind. “I’m sorry about your sweater.”
> “I don’t care about the sweater. I care about—” Her jaw clamped closed, and she refused to continue.
But a seed of hope twisted its way inside him. Maybe she’d been about to say that she cared about him. He was almost sure of it. But he didn’t like the way that thought made his heart kick a little harder.
He had to get them back on safer ground. “My headache is gone, and I’m not as tired as I was yesterday. Practically new.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned.
Okay, so that hadn’t been enough to distract her.
“We’ve been holed up here for a few days. Maybe we could use some air.” She didn’t look convinced, but he pressed on. “Do you think Cody is up for a field trip?”
*
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kristi couldn’t keep the hesitation out of her voice as she glanced over her shoulder at Zach, who was carrying a wide-eyed and excited Cody, who clutched the shoulder straps of the bag that held his brand new portable oxygen concentrator.
“Yep. Helping kids in need is always a good idea.”
“Of course it is, but…” That’s not what she had meant, and she had a hunch he knew it.
“Kids like me?” Cody pressed a hand to his chest, breathing deeply from the oxygen tube tucked into his nose.
Zach shook his head and pointed to the seven-foot-tall Christmas tree covered in white paper angels at the end of the mall’s open courtyard. Shoppers bustled between stores, barely conceding to the cool December weather with sweaters and long pants. Even Zach had only been convinced to put on a jacket because Cody had said he shouldn’t have to wear one if Zach didn’t.
“You see this angel?” Zach picked up one from the middle of the tree. Cody nodded.
“It represents a kid whose parents can’t give him a present this year. This guy is six. Just like you.”
Rubbing at his forehead, Cody frowned. “His mom can’t get him even one?”
“None.”
With a firm, decisive nod of his head, Cody said, “I could give him one of mine.”
Zach chuckled, but a tear caught in the corner of Kristi’s eye. Her son, who had so many struggles, who had already lost so much, was willing to give up his own happiness for another little boy he’d never met. When she sniffed at the unexpected emotions coursing through her, both of her guys looked at her like she had completely lost it.
Could they really blame her if she had? Her son needed a new heart. Her husband had just reentered their lives and added a presence—a man’s presence—they hadn’t had in more than two years. And Jackson Cole was trying to kill her.
If she wanted to cry because her son had the kindest little spirit, well…it was her party, as they said.
“What?” She might have sounded a little more confrontational than she’d intended, but she had no intention of backing down.
“Nothing.” The corner of Zach’s mouth quirked up in a half smile. It was secret and soft and just for her. And it made her stomach do a strange flip-flop.
Oh, dear.
That was not good. Not good at all.
Turning back to Cody, Zach gave him a full smile and tipped his chin toward the volunteer standing next to the tree. “If we buy some presents for the guy on the angel card, she’ll give them to him, and she’ll tell him about how much Jesus loves him.” Cody squinted, clearly deep in thought, as he scratched at the oxygen tube running across his cheek. “Do you think you could pick out a few things he might like?”
Cody nodded hard. “I bet he’d want some toy cars. And a toy tool set.”
Zach looked thoughtful, his lips pinching to the side before he responded. “Excellent suggestions. Let’s find them.”
After signing up with the volunteer and promising to return with the gifts, Zach led the way toward a toy store. He never hesitated, pulling out his ID before the girl wearing the angel pin could even ask him for it, and then immediately turning in the right direction for the store.
“Have you done this before?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Whenever I’m home over the holidays. It’s my favorite thing to do at Christmas.”
She bit back a laugh. “Shopping for six-year-olds?”
His gaze settled on her, warm and gentle like his touch. “I like helping people who need it.”
Right. Of course.
People like the civilians he kept safe in foreign countries. People like the survivors he volunteered to help at the battered women’s shelter here in San Diego that he’d told her about in one of his letters.
People like her and Cody.
Maybe they were just another charity case to him.
The idea twisted her stomach, oddly bitter.
So focused on her inner turmoil, she missed the rug on the floor and tripped over a turned-up corner. Catching herself on the strap of his sling, she squeaked and jumped back, managing to right herself. “Did I hurt you?”
Zach looked like it would take a tank to hurt him. His neck muscles flexed where they disappeared beneath the collar of his black jacket, and a tic in his jaw almost looked like he was holding back a smile.
But he only said, “I’ll live.”
“Okay. Good. Okay. Right.” She couldn’t possibly sound any more inane. But the sudden sense that she was being watched distracted her from the embarrassment. She whirled to see who was behind her.
There was no one there.
“You see something?” Zach whispered insistently into her ear, his lips practically brushing her hair. Which didn’t do a thing to help the tremors in her hands.
“No. But…”
“Do we need to go?”
How should she know? She wasn’t the trained warrior with half a dozen tours under his belt.
“Does it feel like there’s someone watching you?” Zach pressed.
“I’m not sure.” Her gaze roamed the crowded courtyard. There was no way to pinpoint a single face.
But Cole was tall—nearly six and a half feet. And the only man who towered above the crowds was a twenty-something surfer with a head of blond curls. Not the angry face and dark features of Jackson Cole.
“Then we’ll go.”
“No, but Cody.”
Her son had already picked out a remote-control car, holding it up for them to see. “I bet he’ll want this.” But it was clearly an effort to hang on to the toy in question. He breathed quickly from the tube connected to the pack on his back.
She dropped to her knees in front of him, but Zach was there first, grabbing the toy car before it could hit the ground. “Can you breathe?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.” Cody nodded, rubbing his forehead. “Just tired.”
Now she didn’t have to be a SEAL, just a mama bear, to know it was time to go. “Let’s head home.”
“But the car. He needs the car.” Cody’s voice rose, drawing the attention of the nearby shoppers.
“We’ll get it later,” she said, shushing him.
“What if we forget?” Cody shook his head.
“We won’t forget,” she said.
“But we might.”
Why was he picking that minute to argue with her? She turned to Zach for support, but he had disappeared. Looking around the store, she spied him heading their way, a large white bag in hand. He held up his prize and shot her a coy grin.
“Got it. Let’s go.”
She didn’t have time to ask him how he’d done that—how he’d circumvented a long checkout line and rescued them from a total Cody meltdown in front of all of those people. Maybe, like her, he’d sensed that Cody was wearing thin, so he’d taken action. He tended to do that. A lot.
“Want a ride, little man?” He barely waited for Cody’s response before scooping him up and striding through the door.
Kristi had to almost run to keep up with him, and her feet kicked harder when she felt that tingle on the back of her neck again.
She wasn’t imagining it. There was someone watching her.
When Zac
h whipped a look over his shoulder, she knew she wasn’t the only one who felt it. He didn’t say anything to her, but his gaze locked with hers, his eyes brimming with a harsh truth. They weren’t safe.
“Stay close.”
She nodded.
His voice went low as his gaze swept over the sheer number of people between them and the mall’s entrance. “We’re going to take a shortcut.”
Before she could even register what he’d said, he veered into the crowd, bumping into a boy in a tank top and surf shorts. The kid groused. Zach never slowed. Kristi scurried to keep up.
Her heart was already pounding, her skin crawling. But she risked a glance behind her anyway.
A man in a dark jacket with a dark ball cap pulled low over his face made the same turn they had.
She wanted to lie to herself and say it might be only a coincidence.
It wasn’t.
Zach grabbed her wrist. He pulled her close so that she fell into his back, but he never wavered. It took a moment to realize that he held her with his injured arm.
“Your sling—”
He cut off her argument with a single look, his eyes sharp and focused. Then he peered over her head, and she couldn’t help but follow his movement.
The man behind them was closing in.
Zach’s arm at her back tightened, and she spun in time to see another man to their left, this one wearing big aviator sunglasses. As he hustled toward them, his jacket flapped open, giving everyone in the area a full view of the black handgun shoved into the waist of his jeans.
A girl screamed.
Kristi slapped her hand over her mouth, not entirely sure if the cry had been hers or someone else’s. But there wasn’t time to think about it. With a breath in her ear, Zach instructed, “Through that store. There’s an exit in the back. Then left to the car.” As he charged ahead, he squeezed again. “Don’t stop for anything.”
Glad for the reminder, she clutched his hand until her fingers ached. He didn’t even flinch. Just flung open a glass door and led her through a maze of clothing racks.
The door closed and then swung open again. She didn’t need the gust of cool air on her back to know that Baseball Cap or Sunglasses was right behind her. She prayed constantly in a two-word mantra. Save us. Save us. Save us.
