To be so young and free, Alana thought, trying to remember when that had been her. It seemed like so long ago. A whole other life. Another her. That take-on-the-world naive woman had grown up fast with some hard knocks along the way.
“Which one of you is going after Gavin?” she asked.
“Sarver.”
She nodded. Given his fear of hospitals, it was probably for the best, because she wasn’t leaving Cristian’s side until they kicked her out.
“We’ll be right outside the door if you need us.” Sam gave her privacy.
Once the door closed behind him and Mercer, she laid her head on Cristian’s chest. It rose slow and steady beneath her cheek. Thank God he was alive. She wanted him back. Needed him. She couldn’t let him go yet.
“I’m sure you heard.” She spoke softly, believing he could hear her. “Gavin escaped the blast. Sam thinks--he’s here with Sarver--that Gavin will come after me. They won’t leave my side. You have good friends, Cristian.”
Nothing. Not a hint of movement or sign that he heard her. Eyes closed, she continued to speak. “I had friends growing up, but I’m not sure any of them would risk their lives for me. I left for Nicaragua with my dad without a second thought. Without saying goodbye. My friends and I never shared the bond you and your teammates do. I see that now. They would die for you, Cristian. And so would I.”
It was the closest she had come to vowing her love for him. Maybe because she wasn’t really sure he could hear her. Some thought comatose patients could; others said no.
“Alana. It’s time to go.”
She lifted her head to see Sam had poked his head inside the door. The apologetic look on his face made her nod. “Five more minutes.”
“Five minutes,” he agreed and closed the door.
Alana spent those five minutes simply holding Cristian the best she could with only one arm. And when he didn’t hug her in return, she kissed his cheek and left the room, praying that tomorrow he would wake up and hold her.
* * * *
Trapped inside a dream. Everywhere he turned, the dream changed and shifted, throwing him back to his past when he was twelve and expelled from school for fighting and then to the present with a red-haired goddess sponge-bathing while he watched. And everywhere in between, highlighting the best and worst moments of his life.
Like being caught in an episode of Twilight Zone, except it was really happening. His body felt heavy, his limbs unresponsive. Not even his eyes would cooperate. Faces floated inside his head. Faces of people he’d killed. Faces of people that hurt him. His entire life played out in slow motion and he could do nothing to stop it. Not like an out-of-body experience. He could feel his body, he was just trapped inside it. And no matter how hard he fought, it wouldn’t release him.
The only comfort he found was a feminine voice speaking softly, and the tender touch only a woman could possess. It chased the faces away, made the pain recede. But the faces always came back to haunt him. He wanted to get back to her. Sensed she needed his help. Though he couldn’t understand her words, he knew she needed him. Danger lurked around the corner, he could feel it. Just how the hell was he supposed to get back to her before danger stole her from him?
Chapter 24
Alana stared at the gun in her hand, mixed feelings settling over her. Not one to ignore her gut instinct, she tucked it in her purse and left the bedroom before she lost her nerve. She hadn’t slept much last night, waiting for a call from the hospital to tell her Cristian had come out of his coma. The call hadn’t come. When she had slept, it was restless, with fragmented dreams and a sense of foreboding she couldn’t shake.
Mercer and Sam were waiting for her and didn’t argue when she refused coffee and asked to go straight to the hospital. During the drive, she held the purse on her lap, clutching it with tight knuckles. She didn’t like carrying a gun, hoped she would never have to use it, but her gut told her something was wrong. Could be lack of sleep or stress, but either way, she wasn’t being too careful.
Sam drove, glancing over the seat to say something to her. She’d chosen the back seat because of the weapon in her purse. No one needed to know she had it. A conversation she would just as soon avoid.
“Detour,” he said as they turned down a side street.
“Some kind of road work,” Mercer commented.
Alana didn’t bother to look. They were always working on the roads somewhere. Detours usually only made a trip a little longer. She didn’t care as long as they got to the hospital soon. So she could see for herself that Cristian was all right.
“That’s odd,” Sam said, slowing. “They’re directing us down an alley.”
“Maybe the road is closed in both directions.”
Alana peered out the window. There really wasn’t much traffic this morning. A man with a neon orange and green safety vest directed other traffic one way, and them another.
“Or they want to cut down traffic on the side roads.” She had seen them do that to avoid congestion.
Sam followed directions and turned into the alley barely wide enough for the truck to fit down. Tall buildings surrounded them on each side and occasionally they ran over a cardboard box or garbage that had been tossed out.
“Where are the other cars?” she wondered, looking out the back window.
“I don’t like this,” Mercer said.
Spooked, Alana tightened her hands on her purse. If they didn’t like this, she certainly didn’t. Their instincts were much more in tune than her own.
“Me either,” Sam agreed, rolling to a stop.
Heart pounding, she looked from one man to the other. Strange they were the only car directed down the alley. Looking behind, she saw the man in the safety vest was no longer there and cars were passing freely.
“The traffic cop is gone,” she said. “What’s going on?”
Sam let out a curse and slammed the truck in reverse. Her head whipped around to see an SUV speeding down the alley toward them. Bracing an arm on the back of the seat, Sam looked over his shoulder as he drove backward to avoid a crash.
“There’s another one behind us,” Alana cried, twisting to see another SUV blocking their exit.
Sam stomped on the accelerator. “Put on a seatbelt, Alana,” he instructed as the truck shot backward.
She fumbled for the belt. “What are you doing?”
“Getting the hell out of here.”
“But we’re fenced in.”
Sam didn’t waver from driving. “Not for long.”
Unable to look away, Alana watched as they approached the vehicle blocking from behind. When Sam didn’t slow down or stop, she braced for impact.
“Get down,” Sam ordered.
Alana ducked down in the seat as they hit. The seatbelt cut into her chest. Her purse flew off her lap onto the floor. The other SUV hit them from the front, not as hard, but enough to jolt her in her seat.
“Go, go, go!” Mercer shouted.
Sam twisted the wheel hard and the truck spun in a circle, belt whining. He stomped on the gas and the truck shot forward, steam rising from the smashed front end. Alana looked back to see one SUV had followed them out of the alley. The other was in shambles. Two men climbed out, jumped in the working SUV, and gave chase. She recognized one of them as Gavin’s guards from the island. The one who had stared at her with a lascivious grin when Gavin hadn’t been looking. A face she would never forget.
A shudder worked down her spine. Was Gavin in one of those cars? How had he found them so quickly?
“I know that man,” she told Sam and Mercer. “Gavin brought an army.” Gavin was a smart criminal. He wouldn’t come alone. Not up against a mercenary. A mercenary currently in a coma.
“We can handle them,” Sam assured her as the truck made loud squeaking noises.
A car came barreling out of nowhere. Alana screamed when it hit them dead on. Glass shattered, metal ground as she was thrown against the door. Steel folded around her with a deafening crunch.
Shock registered slowly. She sat there, staring at the destruction around her, not believing what had just happened. The sound of a car door slamming pushed her into motion. Unsnapping her seat belt with shaking hands, she leaned forward to grab Sam’s shoulders.
“Sam! Wake up.” She pleaded with him, checked the pulse in his neck. Strong and steady, but he was out, a bloody gash on his forehead.
Stifling a sob, she moved to Mercer, who hung half out the window. No seatbelt. Bleeding badly. Not responding.
A movement caught her eye. She looked out the cracked windshield to see four men approaching, armed with big guns.
“Oh, God.” She sobbed, grabbing Sam’s shoulder. “Wake up. Sam. Please. Wake up.” But he didn’t wake up. He lay there, slumped in his seat.
Panicked, she gasped and slid back. The gun. Find the gun.
Searching the glass-covered seat, she tried to find it. The floor. She bent down, frantically feeling around for it. Something clanked on the window and she jumped, let out a scream, just as her fingers touched the cold metal of her gun. Groping for it, she tried to wrap her shaking hand around it.
The door jerked open. Someone grabbed her roughly by the arm. Fighting him, she fumbled for the gun, her only chance to escape.
“Get out.”
A rough tug sent her bouncing across the seat at the same time her hand wrapped around the gun. Swinging it upward, she thumbed the safety and aimed it at the man trying to get her out.
“Back up.” She eased out of the truck. The men backed up a step, not intimidated, but wary. A woman holding a gun was dangerous in more ways than one.
Sliding out of the truck, nerves frayed, she said, “Put your weapons on the ground.”
The men glanced at each other. She squeezed the trigger and a bullet ripped through the pavement at their feet. They jumped back, eyes wide in surprise. Obviously, they hadn’t thought she would do it.
“Drop them!” This time they did as told, laying their weapons on the ground. Feeling more in control, she motioned with her gun for them to back up. They took a hesitant step back. She herded them another step, kicked their guns aside.
“Alana, darling, put the gun down.”
Gavin.
Turning her head without lowering the gun, she saw him approaching, a bandage wrapped around his head and swelling on his cheek. Hatred flowed through her like lava. This man had cost her so much. More than any person should ever have to endure. He had stolen her father, murdered her family, and killed Leya. Their lives meant nothing to him. She meant nothing to him except for her medical skills. Those were valuable. He never wanted her. He only wanted her talent. And now it was tainted.
“Don’t come any closer,” she warned. “Or I’ll shoot.”
Gavin stopped, putting up his hands. “Don’t take it out on my men, darling. It’s me you’re angry with.”
“Tell them to stand down,” she said.
Gavin issued an order to his men and they backed off. Knowing they would never disobey an order, she turned the gun on him, aiming at his chest. She could pull the trigger and stop this man from harming another person. Put an end to this once and for all. Once Gavin was dead and buried, she could go on with her life. Grieve. Start over. Put this behind her.
“Will you shoot me, darling?” Gavin taunted.
“You murdered my father. Everyone on that island. Leya. Cristian is in a coma because of you.”
“Cristian?” Gavin eyes narrowed. “First name basis with the mercenary, my darling?”
She lifted her chin. “He’s a better man than you.”
Gavin lip curled. “Shut up! You will not speak to me like that. Give me the gun.” He held out a hand as if she would obey his order.
“No, Gavin,” she said quietly. “You’ve hurt too many people. I can’t let you do it anymore.”
“We have an agreement.”
“No. No more agreements. I can’t trust you.”
“You don’t have to trust me. Only be part of my team.”
“Never. I will never kill for you, Gavin. Never.”
Alana squeezed the trigger.
* * * *
Dropping the gun, Alana stared at her hands. What had she done? Taken a life with hands she’d sworn would always save lives. It clattered to the cement, deadly steel glinting in the sunlight.
Dear God, what had she become?
Gavin lay on the ground, blood streaming out of a bullet hole in the center of his forehead. She’d done it. She murdered a man.
Reality hit her like a ton of bricks and she spun around, vomiting into the gutter. A cold sweat broke out all over her body, making her shake. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t a killer. How had she come to this point in her life?
A hand landed on her shoulder and she jumped.
“Alana. It’s okay. It’s Sam.”
Sam? She looked up to see a bloody, battered Sam standing over her. And behind him, with a gun trained on the four men stood Mercer, looking like death warmed over.
“Sam?” Her voice wavered. “I shot him. I killed Gavin.”
He shook his head. “You hit the building behind him, Doc. Mercer’s bullet put him down.”
Letting him help her up, she clung to the truth. “Are you sure?”
“One hundred percent. We gotta get out of here before the cops arrive. Wait for us in the truck?”
“But it’s smashed.”
“She’ll run. Now, go, while I clean up this mess.”
Nodding, Alana limped back to the truck on legs that shook. She climbed into the backseat and closed the door, huddled in the corner, and waited. Within minutes, the four men were unconscious and trussed like Sunday chickens for the police. Sam retrieved the gun and bullet casings, wiping away any trace they had ever been there.
By time they left, sirens were blaring in the distance. Exhausted, she leaned against the door and watched the city pass by. She had been through an emotional wringer. What she’d thought she’d done had turned out to be wrong. Thank the Lord. She didn’t have to live with the repercussions of actually killing a man in cold blood. But she did have to live with the fact she’d pulled the trigger. Somehow, she’d developed the ability to take a life even though it went against her moral fiber.
What turned an ordinary person into a killer? She had resorted to her most primal animal, relying on basic instinct and survival. Was this how Cristian felt when he did a job?
“It’s over now, Doc,” Sam said quietly from the driver’s seat.
Alana closed her eyes without responding. It wasn’t over. She had her nightmares to contend with. And she wasn’t the woman she’d thought. She might never be again.
That scared her more than her uncertain future.
* * * *
Slade forced his eyes open, the abyss fading slowly, painfully from his mind. Feeling like he was returning from a deep sleep, he looked around. Hospital. IV. Monitor attached to stickers on his chest. Blinds open to allow sunlight. Blinking against the brightness, he took stock of his limbs. All were there. Though his head felt like it was splitting in two and he was weak as a babe.
The door opened and Alana walked in, limping on a cast. Her eyes filled with tears when she saw him.
“Cristian,” she breathed and rushed to his side. She wrapped her arms around him and when he held her, he felt her trembling. “Thank God you’re awake.”
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She pulled away, sat in the chair next to his bed, but didn’t let go of his hand. There were dark circles under her eyes and her face was drawn and pale. “It’s over, Cristian,” she said. “Gavin is dead.”
Not what he’d expected to hear. How long had he been out? “When?”
“This morning. That’s what took us so long to get here.”
“Us?”
“Sam is here with Mercer. They haven’t let me out of their sight.”
He nodded. While he had been away, they had taken over Alana’s protection. Without a s
econd thought. So that’s what having good friends meant.
He reached out and cupped her cheek. “Are you all right?” He would get the details from Ryden and Mercer later. The last thing he wanted Alana to do was re-live what happened.
“I took your gun, Cristian. From the apartment,” she said quietly.
Silent, he waited.
“I shot at Gavin. I wanted to kill him for all the pain he’s caused me.”
“Shot at?” he questioned, his gut sinking. He wanted more than anything for her to tell him she hadn’t been the one to take Ross down. She should never have to live with that.
“I didn’t murder him. I missed. It was Mercer’s bullet that killed him.” Her breath hitched and she shuddered. “I’m sorry. You just woke up. I shouldn’t burden you with this. How are you feeling?”
He tilted her chin, forced her to look at him. “It’s no burden. And you are not that woman.”
Her eyes glistened with tears. “I feel like I am. Like Gavin changed me.”
“He did. He made you stronger.”
“I don’t feel strong,” she whispered, leaning into his hand now caressing the soft skin of her cheek.
“You are the strongest woman I know. You’ll be fine.”
“Thank you.” She laid her head down on his chest. They both knew what he meant when he said she would be fine. Fine without him. In her new life. Harvard was waiting for her and he didn’t fit into that world. Even though she wouldn’t voice it, Alana knew it too.
With a heavy heart, Slade held her, let her cry on his shoulder for what could never be. It remained unspoken between them, but they both knew they had no future. Her future was bright with possibilities. He wouldn’t hold her from that. Not for him. He knew she would sacrifice herself for him without a second thought, and he couldn’t let that happen. She had made too many sacrifices already. To ask her to stay with him would be selfish.
So, with a kiss on top of her head, he let her go.
Chapter 25
Six Months Later
Alana hiked her books up in her arms, squinting into the bright December sun as she trotted down the steps of the science building and headed toward her car.
Hard Core (Onyx Group) Page 26
