by Liz Johnson
Wrinkles furrowed above his brow. “Which phone?”
“The one from the hospital.”
The zipper finally gave way. There was no telling if the phone shook on its own or because of her trembling hands, but she pressed it to her ear anyway.
“Hello?”
“Kristi McCloud?”
“Yes. Do you have a heart?”
“Yes, ma’am. Please bring Cody to the hospital immediately. The organ is en route, and we’ll prep him for surgery right away.”
She looked at Zach, wishing he could read her mind. “We’re close. We’re a few minutes away.”
“Twenty-five.” His tone was that implacable, calm-and-controlled one that she’d just been lamenting about, and suddenly it was the most comforting sound in the world.
“We’ll be there in twenty-five minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The disembodied voice gave her several more instructions, which she carefully repeated so that Zach would know what to do. By the time she hung up, her whole body trembled, and her breaths were little more than silent sobs.
Her baby was going to get a heart. He would get his heart. And then he would be saved.
Saved from the disease that ravaged his body. Saved from every painful breath.
And saved from the madman who wanted that heart, too.
FOURTEEN
Kristi couldn’t fully remember anything that happened during the next seven days. Everything after the moment they picked up Cody at home, snagged his prepacked bag and raced to the hospital was a blur. There were hours and hours spent either fidgeting in a hard waiting room chair or pacing the confines of the tiny space, trying not to disturb the other family in the far corner.
Her head spun and her chest ached, and no amount of aspirin could touch the vicious pounding over her ears.
Fear and sorrow seemed to mingle in equal parts and with equal strength. Fear for Cody’s safety and recovery. Sorrow for a family, who, like Greta’s parents, mourned the loss of a child.
In their wake they left only a numbness.
She tried to find joy or hope or even a sense of peace and fell flat. Except when Zach reached for her.
He was the one thing that stuck and soothed through it all. Holding her hand as she sat still. Whispering quiet prayers for Cody, for her. Wrapping his arms around her at the exact moment she was sure she would fly apart. Pressing his lips to her temples, as though he could kiss away her pain.
And maybe he could. Because having him nearby eased her fears enough to let her rest her head on his shoulder. To disappear into his embrace.
Almost seven hours after they reached the hospital, the doctor walked in, his face solemn, tired. But there was a glimmer of satisfaction in the line of his lips. “The new heart is beating on its own.” Everything after that was lost to the rush of relief louder than a locomotive.
They’d gone from the waiting room to the ICU room. Cody’s body had been dwarfed by the full-size bed covered in ugly brown blankets. She’d wanted to turn to Zach and beg him to go get Cody’s Corvette blanket. But it wouldn’t be allowed in intensive care, not when germs and infections were a very real threat.
The machines beeped; the ventilator whooshed. And Cody’s chest rose and fell. Slowly color began to return to his lips and to the skin under his fingernails. At the same pace hope seeped through Kristi, replacing the shock.
The nurses came and checked the incision that ran from his throat to his belly button. They checked his vitals every hour, checked his color, checked his responses. And then they took out the tube that had been breathing for him. And Kristi held her own breath, praying he’d suck in the antiseptic-scented air.
He did.
She cried.
And the days flew by.
But always Zach was by her side, bringing her food, bringing her clothes from home, bringing her coffee before she could even ask for it. Bringing her prayers and peace.
The shadow that had kept her locked in fear for so long finally lifted.
Perhaps they weren’t out of the woods yet. There would be years of medication and doctor’s visits and watching for signs of organ rejection.
But all those were hurdles that came with the greatest gift of all. A new heart. The chance of a healthy life.
And so, on the day that Cody was being moved from the ICU to the standard pediatric unit, Kristi found her way to the hospital’s small chapel. It was quiet and dimly lit, save for a handful of candles flickering near the altar.
Lowering herself into a chair, she rested folded hands on the back of the seat in front of her. Bowing her head and closing her eyes, she whispered the only thing she could think to say. “Thank You. Thank You for saving my son. Thank You for sending Zach. I didn’t know how much I was going to need him. But You did, didn’t You?”
She didn’t expect an answer, so she jumped when the door behind her clicked.
The man she’d just been praying about stood in the doorway, and her throat closed up. She said another prayer—this one silent, so that he hadn’t heard her words.
“Mind if I join you?”
She shook her head, and he slipped down the aisle like a shadow.
“Cody is resting right now. But the ICU nurse is with him, getting him ready to move rooms. She said she’s going to miss her favorite patient.”
Oh, and thank You for the nurses who have taken such good care of Cody.
Zach reached for her folded hands, then stopped and let his hand drop to his knee. She physically felt the absence of his touch, the coolness where his skin should have been warm against hers. “You haven’t slept much this week,” he said. “How are you holding up?”
Her head buzzed too hard to find an answer for him. And her skin itched, sleep the only prescription. Forcing her lips not to tremble, she said, “I’ll be fine whenever Cody is.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything less. What can I do for you? Do you want food? Fresh clothes? A book or magazine?”
By candlelight his features softened. Gone were the hard edges of his jaw and the bold planes. They were replaced by shifting shadows.
And always a familiar tenderness.
The only thing she wanted from him in that moment was his touch.
“Hold me?”
Surprise registered on his face, and he held so still that she thought he might turn her down. But before she could wrap her arms around herself, he took care of it. He enfolded her, his scent whispering around her, replacing the sharp tang of the sterile hallways with warmth and spice. When he rested his cheek on top of her head, she could feel him smile. And she let go. All the tears she’d been holding back so tightly leaked down her cheeks.
He’d always known how to hold her—even when they were teenagers. And he’d never once teased her about needing it.
Because maybe—just maybe—he cared about her half as much as she loved him?
“We’re going to be okay now, right?” she asked.
She hoped for an immediate, swift confirmation, but she didn’t get it. Instead, he dragged out a sigh that seemed to say he wished it was so.
“We can’t still be in danger from whoever was after us before.” She tried to sound confident, only partially succeeding. “Can we?”
He shook his head against hers, conveying his concerns and hesitations through the simple motion. “I don’t know. It feels too easy.”
“Cody getting a heart?” It had been anything but easy. Zach should know. He’d been there for every hour of it.
“No. Not his heart.”
She sighed.
“The part where the man who tried to kill us suddenly moves on to another family. Another child.” His voice sounded like it had been dragged across gravel. “People are still in danger.”
She knew that deep inside. But she didn’t have the strength to acknowledge and face it. She barely had the strength to hold her head up after seven nights of sleeping in an uncomfortable chair at the bedside of her child.
; Looking up at his cheek, she ran a finger across the stubble growing there. His skin quivered. Could her touch affect him so? And how would she be affected by him? She knew their kisses had been electric, but maybe it was the threat that surrounded them that made the connection so intense.
Now that they were safe, a tug deep in her stomach ached to know if her connection with Zach would remain. If kissing him now would be the same as it had been before.
Even more, this might be her last chance. What if he never held her like this again? Her future was as unsure as it had been fourteen months before.
Cody had been saved. But now she might lose Zach.
Big fingers ran through her hair, cupping the back of her head and tilting it upward.
Her gaze didn’t make it any farther north than his lips. Both sides stretched into a full grin as he ran a thumb across her chin. Her insides danced as he closed the distance between them by half. But he stopped there, and she could do nothing but lean in toward him. Pressing a hand against his chest, she tried to steady herself—and utterly failed.
The tender skin on her face was nearly on fire from his touch, but she craved more. More that he didn’t seem inclined to give.
Wrapping her hand into the cotton of his shirt, she pulled on him just enough to get him moving. Still, only his breath reached her face. It wasn’t enough.
Please. Please.
She needed this connection at least one more time.
He remained like stone, unmoving. But far from cold. Far from uncaring.
The tender embrace around her waist made her heart pound. With each breath, they came more fully in contact, and her breath hitched. Every time.
And the thumb at her cheek traveled the damp trail of her tears until she turned into a puddle herself.
But he still didn’t move.
Well, that didn’t mean she couldn’t.
Pushing herself up, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. Hard. Insistent.
Finally he moved, cupping her face and tilting her head until their connection was sure and sweet. And so rich.
It zinged at the back of her throat like she’d eaten all the frosting off a cupcake.
The kiss was equal parts thrilling and settling. His touch made her feel like she was a rocket about to explode. Yet she didn’t want to be anywhere but in his arms.
When he sighed her name against her lips, she dared to hope that he might feel the same. But before she could begin to ask, someone in the back of the chapel cleared her throat.
Kristi ripped herself out of Zach’s arms and spun to face Cody’s nurse, Jessica.
“We’re getting ready to move him. Want to help him get settled into his new room?”
Kristi glanced down at Zach, who was staring at her with narrowed eyes that were filled with questions. Ones she wanted to answer. But was now the right time?
“You go,” he said. “I’ll be right behind you.”
She nodded and was halfway down the aisle before she remembered what this move would mean for Cody’s comfort. “Zach, would you mind running home? Now that we don’t have the ICU restrictions, I think Cody would like his blanket.”
“Of course.”
She followed Jessica down the hall, then walked beside the rolling hospital bed as they entered the elevator.
“How you feeling, little man?” Kristi pressed her hand to the bland hospital blanket covering Cody’s legs.
He lay relatively still, having given up shrugging or motioning to express himself. She couldn’t imagine how much his little body ached. Even his voice was pitiful. “Okay, I guess. When do I get to go home?”
Jessica chuckled. “Not quite yet. The doctor still wants to watch you for a little while longer. We need to make sure you’re taking all of your medications at the right time and getting your strength up. Before you can leave, you’ll have to show the doctor that you can walk all the way to the end of the hallway.”
Cody’s pink lips pinched to the side. “Which hallway? The little one?”
Jessica reached into the pocket of her scrubs and pulled out a pen before scribbling on his chart. “Ornery as ever, huh? I’m marking that down so the doctor knows just how sneaky you are.”
Cody’s smile was contagious, and Kristi laughed. “You’re a good kid.”
“I know, Mom.”
They all laughed at that as Jessica steered them into a single room with a large blue curtain hanging from a track on the ceiling.
Something billowed behind the curtain, and Kristi’s stomach dropped.
Was someone waiting for them?
No. They weren’t in danger any longer. She had to remind herself that they were out from under that shroud.
Weren’t they?
Cody had his heart. No one would try to steal it from him now.
He was no longer on the transplant list. He was a success story.
She swallowed the strange punch of anxiety and swished the curtain out of the way. The room was empty.
Of course it was.
“Are you all right?”
Kristi tried to smile at the nurse but came up severely short. “I think so.”
Not looking fully convinced, Jessica turned back to Cody. “Hang tight. Let me get an extra set of hands to help me transfer you to the other bed.”
“Sure.” Cody closed his eyes as the rubber soles on Jessica’s shoes squeaked their retreat.
But they weren’t alone. Kristi could feel it.
She couldn’t hear it. There was no loud breathing or audible movement. And she couldn’t see it. But somehow, she knew that trouble was brewing. She could feel the weight of that invisible gaze—the same one she’d felt a hundred times and had thought was Jackson Cole.
Only now she knew he wasn’t the one after her. And not knowing who was lurking in the shadows was so much worse.
She spun around and around, searching to find the source. No cameras. No signs of life. No one.
They were alone.
But they weren’t.
As she reached to open the big wooden door, it flew in and slammed against her forehead.
She staggered back, tripping over her own feet and falling into the railing of Cody’s bed.
“Momma?” His cry barely made it through the alarms clanging in her head, and she squinted into the familiar face of a man looming over her.
Kicking at his shin, she screamed.
He cut the sound off before it even began, pressing his hand over her mouth and his foot against her neck. She clawed and kicked at him, but none of it made a difference.
Cody cried, and she prayed it would be enough to garner the attention of someone passing by.
“Shut up or your mommy is going to get it.”
She heard Cody’s cries die down to whimpers. She thrashed against his hold, desperate to reach out and comfort her son. But her strength was disappearing. No matter how hard she gasped, there was no air to breathe. The pressure on her neck increased, and everything in her cried for relief.
But her arms were limp, her legs useless.
As her vision narrowed, she saw another figure scoop up Cody just before everything went black.
FIFTEEN
Zach knew there was something wrong as soon as the elevator doors opened. The nurses station was a flurry of activity, and a uniformed security guard was waving his arms about as he talked with two police officers.
Zach clenched his hands into Cody’s fuzzy blanket tighter and tighter until his arms shook and he could see only red.
He’d gone after the blanket and left them alone.
Because he’d foolishly thought they were safe. He’d wanted so badly to believe that the danger had passed and that there might be some hope for a future.
And he’d left them to what?
He had no idea what had happened, but he had to find out. Not knowing was so much worse than the horrors his mind could conjure.
He started running the moment his foot hit the slick white tile, and he das
hed past the cops, barging into Cody’s room.
“What are you doing?” the security guard yelled at his back. “This room is off-limits.”
Zach took his first real breath as he slammed to a stop inside the empty room. There wasn’t a body. No hints of blood. The only sign of a struggle was the front bed, which was pushed to an odd angle despite the clearly engaged locks on the wheels.
“Where are they?” He spun on the red-faced guard, whose bluster died on his lips.
“Wh-who?”
“Are you kidding me?” Zach roared, shaking the blanket like a weapon. “My son and my wife. Where are Cody and Kristi?”
The guard looked like he was about to cry, so he pointed over his shoulder at the policemen, like they’d somehow made Zach’s family disappear.
Unacceptable.
“Did anyone see anything? A nurse? Security footage?”
“The—the camera on this lev-level is broken. No one saw anything.”
Doubly unacceptable.
The bustle from outside the room continued, but Zach shut it out, zeroing in on the guard, who had apparently decided to cooperate. Which was the idiot’s first—and only—good decision thus far.
Zach scrubbed at the top of his head. “How long have they been gone?”
“Twenty minutes.”
The whole room spun. Twenty minutes. They’d been gone almost as long as he had. And he’d made it to their home and back.
They could be anywhere by now.
Forcing his hands to stop shaking, he twisted up the blanket, searching for anything to help him find them.
He had to find them. There was no other option.
“I need to see security footage from the other floors, especially the ICU.” The man didn’t move. “Now.”
Again the guard had the gall to point to the officers. “Can’t. Only the cops can see it.”
Zach was ready to spit fire. Instead, he swallowed the bile building in the back of his throat and spun on his heel. Sailing to the stairwell, he flew down four flights and back into the parking lot before he consciously realized where he was going.
Denise Engle.
She knew something, and it was a whole lot more than she’d been letting on.
He broke several posted speed limits on the short drive to her office, but he didn’t have time to care. Nothing was going to stop him. Not even the secretary at the front desk of the transplant offices, who had the nerve to try to hold him up.
