OBSESSION (The Bening Files (Novella) Book 4)

by Trautmiller, Rachel

  “No roses or sunshine, I get it.”

  Because you handcuffed him to a banister.

  That decision had been automatic. Much like this one, but nevertheless, right.

  She headed toward Paige’s IV and unhooked it. Unraveled the monitors from around her stomach. Then pulled the blankets back from her legs. They had to move.

  “What are you doing?” The teen made a grab for the tubing.

  “Saving you.”

  “What? Why?” The high-pitch squeak of anxiety rolled off Paige’s words and hammered into Charleen’s heart.

  Two hands clamped down on her shoulders and pulled her away from the girl. “Stop it.” At six-two Dexter towered well above her—easily a foot. His violet eyes cracked fire. The twisted knife of fear should have been lodged in her system, but wasn’t. “What are you doing?”

  “Dexter, pick her up.”

  “Not gonna work.” He pointed toward the door, his face firm. “You can’t barge in here and take charge.”

  Maybe ending badly wasn’t the right phrase. Perhaps it would just end. “I see you’re still miffed about this morning.”

  “This morning? As if you accidentally spilled hot coffee—”

  She clamped a hand over his mouth. Cursed herself for the hasty action the minute the feel of his whiskered skin hit her palm. “We don’t have time for this. Either help me or get out of the way.”

  He removed her fingers from his face, blocked her access to Paige. A hint of clean laundry soap wafted in her direction, as it had done every time he’d shifted in his chair last night.

  No time to go down that road.

  “Don’t touch her, Charleen.”

  “I’m not here to hurt her.” With any luck she’d have time to get the girl out of the building and take Eileen with them. Get them to a safe place and head back to deal with the situation.

  Hopefully from the sidelines, once she identified the threat.

  The muscles in his jaw clenched. “Remains to be seen.”

  He wasn’t going to listen. There wasn’t anything she could say that would make it different. She could see that in the stark violet of his eyes. The way he watched her as if he understood exactly what she was. What she’d do at any given moment.

  Her heart started a frantic pound. Her stomach surged upward. She swallowed it back. Grabbed the collar of his dress shirt, pulled him downward and pressed her lips against his.

  He froze. Shock blasted from the rigid planes of muscles beneath her fingers. She didn’t give it a chance to build to something more or fizzle to that awkward moment before she pulled back.

  His eyes were locked on her, unreadable, but she had his complete attention. “Listen to me. There’s an active shooter in the hospital.” She tugged on his shirt, again. “We stay here, we become instant sitting ducks. So, I need your help. Pick her up. Let’s move.”

  ###

  SANDRA HAD SAVED his life.

  The thought would’ve taken precedence if Robinson’s chest didn’t feel like an entire elephant circus had squatted on top of it and sawed in spikes for permanence. A gasp of air shot white-hot pain through the space. He placed a hand on the wall outside the OR.

  He dug out his cell. Dialed Amanda’s number. Got sent straight to voicemail. He tried for a shallow breath. Needed to get his family out of the hospital.

  Sandra had saved his life.

  It seemed like a drug-induced dream.

  She’d used an old tactic: Dead body weight. It had thrown Seth off balance. Sent his bullets into other targets.

  It gave Robinson a chance to roll out of sight. And she’d been rewarded with a hard knock to her skull before the other man had carted her off like a caveman might have dragged his new wife.

  He’d already tallied two fatalities and three injuries in the hallway alone. And that didn’t count the man on Sandra’s OR table, if the staff who’d rushed into the area couldn’t save him. Or if Seth doubled back for Robinson.

  How far had he gotten? What was his motive?

  Eileen is my ticket…

  “Robbie!” Amanda’s voice came out in a high-pitched squeak. She holstered her weapon and skidded to a stop in front of him. Those beautiful amber eyes assessed him from head to toe, her hands moving around him but not daring to touch. “Talk to me. What happened? Where are you hit?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “You’ve got blood all over you. You can barely stand.”

  “I’m fine.” Or he would be. He pushed off the wall, caught her chin and made her look him in the eye. “I’m not hit. Just took another extremity to my sternum.”

  A whoosh of breath left her mouth. “We heard the shots. Called for backup.”

  He pulled her with him down the hallway, even though he wanted to grab Paige and rush from the hospital. “Seth came in with a gun. Took Sandra hostage.”

  “What?”

  “I’m gathering that it has something to do with the clinical trials.”

  She stopped. “Sandra and Dr. Borian aren’t even in the same branch of medicine. What’s her sudden extreme fascination with abortion anyway?”

  He shook his head. “Sounded like she knew him. Was familiar enough to use his first name, like a friend.”

  “Maybe. Davis… She said he performed an abortion on her birth mother. That Sandra talked the woman into it and my mom tried to stop her.”

  Was Eileen reenacting something from the past? Was Davis?

  ###

  HE WAS HURTING, but desperate to hide it.

  Amanda knew it in the way Robinson kept finding an excuse to usher her down the hall. In the grimaces he tried to hide. The choppy sentences.

  “I think we should split up. You take the south end of the floor. I’ll take the north.”

  Meaning he’d follow the sporadic trail of bodies and she’d stay in safety. One wrong blow and he’d be incapacitated. “Not happening. We’ll do it together.” She opened the door to a break room, stood just outside the threshold, gun raised as he entered and cleared the area filled with tables and chairs. A refrigerator sat at the edge of one counter, a microwave standing open next to it, as if someone had left in a hurry.

  “My way is quicker.”

  With more risk. She entered the room. “We aren’t arguing semantics. Not right now.”

  He met her near the doorway, his arm brushing against hers. Those beautiful blue-green eyes locked on hers and were full of pain he couldn’t hide, but would never mention. “We gotta get to this guy before he takes out more lives.”

  “You do realize the entire hospital is on lockdown? No one in. No one out. There could be more than just one shooter. You’re injured. I’m not leaving you.”

  “And you realize our family is upstairs.”

  Everything inside her stilled. Of course she knew that. The girl never left her mind. “He has no reason to go after Paige.”

  “You don’t know that.” He rubbed his chest. “You said so yourself. Sandra called Paige her granddaughter. What if she’s been broadcasting that all over the place? Hoping for some kind of twisted second chance. If this guy is after Sandra—and he clearly is—he’ll take out whatever he thinks she holds dear. It’s not exactly like you or Paige have been low profile since Beth’s execution.”

  No. It was one thing to come after Amanda. Another to shove her family—her husband and children into the mix. “You’re right.” She stilled the hand trying to ease tension in his chest. She moved closer, touched her lips to his. “You promised me a family. Just remember that.”

  A gentle clap filled the hall. They spun toward the origin of the sound, weapons raised.

  “Bravo. A Hallmark moment.” Seth Borian sauntered closer, gesturing with his SIG. “Move into the hall.”

  They walked forward. He stepped backward with them.

  “Drop your guns to the floor. Kick them toward me. No sudden movements. You know the drill.”

  Her heart pounded in a way that had nothing to do with their kiss. She
wasn’t about to give in. “Where’s Sandra?”

  He swung the gun in Robinson’s direction. “Funny you care, sweetheart. I’m sorry to say that teatime is over. Sandra made her bed a long time ago with her selfishness, both professionally and personally. So, drop your guns. Don’t make me ask again.”

  A lifetime ago she might have aimed on her way toward putting her weapon on the floor. Prayed for the best and known the risk was worth saving a life.

  Maybe if the gun had been trained on her, she could have done it. Tossed the coin as easily as throwing away a napkin. Not with Robinson’s life, and their future, on the line. He’d already used up his free pass.

  He lowered his gun to the ground, both hands out. He glanced at her. Sweat dotted his forehead. “You’re not afraid, A.J.” His voice was sure, soothing and warm, as if they were in the privacy of their own home.

  His eyes flicked to the open doorway. If she aimed as she was headed downward and he rolled… She could follow him through the door in less than a second if she missed. They’d still have one weapon.

  Don’t miss.

  She was anything but those relaxing emotions as she lowered to one knee. Prepared to change everything.

  “Hold up, there.” Hard metal pressed into the side of her skull as Sergeant Killian Brink came into view. He stomped the gun from Amanda’s grasp. A sick crunch vibrated through her as her middle and ring fingers ground into the hard tile. A hot lick of pain coursed up her arm and had her wanting to curl in a ball on the floor.

  He kicked the weapon to Seth.

  The doctor caught it with his foot. “Thank you.” He nodded toward Robinson. “And yours.”

  Robinson’s weapon followed suit. Killian yanked her hands together in front of her and threw a pair of cuffs on them. Blood oozed from her second finger. A piece of white protruded just below the knuckle.

  She drew in a sharp breath of air. Looked away.

  No big deal. Nothing to see.

  “What are you doing, Killian?”

  The Sergeant secured Robinson’s hands behind his back. Used them to pull her husband to his feet. A small groan came from his mouth.

  The sound grated through Amanda. She checked the urge to rush to his side and stood.

  “Turn around and walk slowly until I tell you to stop.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THEY WERE GOING to die.

  The sentence was on repeat in Amanda’s mind as Seth and Killian marshaled them through the hallways, up a flight of stairs and to the third floor, a gun at each of their backs.

  They needed a plan of action. Couldn’t be led to who knows where and expect to live. It didn’t work like that.

  They stopped outside of a door that said EMPLOYEES ONLY. A padlocked chain circled the doorknob and connected to the sturdy metal handle of a fire extinguisher cabinet.

  Killian pulled a key from his pocket, undid the lock and opened the door.

  Two long tables had been shoved against the outside windows, the chairs stacked up on top. Davis lay in the middle of the floor with a towel wrapped around her head, her eyes closed. Dexter was next to her, a red stain forming on his abdomen, his breathing coming in short bursts as her niece held a hand on that spot. His eyes were locked on Amanda, glassy.

  Her heart fell to her knees.

  “Tell me what to do. Please.” Paige’s back was to them as she sat between Dexter and Davis, her gaze trained on someone just out of sight.

  Seth gave Amanda and Robinson a shove that sent them farther into the room.

  Eileen Nettles dug through a drawer and produced another towel. Handed it to Paige.

  Beyond that, Sandra sat with a bruise forming on her cheek and a fat lip, her cuffed hands between her legs.

  The door slammed behind them. “Nice little family reunion.” Seth’s voice held irony and the edge of a chuckle as he forced both her and Robinson to sit next to Davis. Robinson sat straight, his eyes examining the room.

  Killian trained his gun on Eileen. “Try anything funny and Mrs. Nettles gets a closed coffin.”

  Paige glanced in their direction. Relief covered her features. She started to move toward them, but stopped. Her eyes scanned the room. Then she turned back to Dexter and pushed the towel against his stomach.

  Why wasn’t Sandra doing anything? And why was Amanda’s mother the only one unbound? She couldn’t be helping Seth and Killian. There wasn’t any way. Right?

  Please, no.

  “You pulled me from an important surgery, Seth.” Anger laced Sandra’s words.

  “He’s gonna die anyway. Your words, honey.” He waved the gun in front of them. “Always so cold. Never thinking past yourself. Like your AD research.”

  “For a cure.”

  He laughed. “For a name. Isn’t that why you suggested abortions for those women? Easier to end a barely formed life than ruin months of clinical progress, right?”

  “They were part of my trial, Seth. I hardly told them they had to forfeit their pregnancies. They had the AD gene. They were prime candidates and probably on the cutting edge of an answer.”

  “I thought this lady here was your ticket.” Killian took a step closer to Eileen. Tapped his gun against her head. “Guess not.”

  “Young man.” Her mom turned toward the sergeant. “We don’t play with guns in the house.”

  Something dark glittered in the detective’s eyes.

  Amanda scooted toward her mom. Prepared to defend her if needed.

  Killian pointed his gun in Amanda’s direction. He didn’t take his eyes from Eileen, tilted his head and let out a laugh. “You don’t make the rules, lady. Your daughter can’t save you this time.”

  Something heavy dropped into Amanda’s gut. She started to stand. A firm hand found her shoulder. The grin on Seth’s face left little to the imagination. He had all the power.

  Eileen gripped Killian’s ear. “Drop the toy.”

  He let out a howl. Smacked her across the face. The force sent her flying to the floor.

  Robinson attempted to stand. Seth kicked him over and placed a booted foot against the agent’s chest, the gun right in his face.

  “No.” Her voice mingled with Sandra’s and Paige’s. The surgeon was on her feet.

  “How nice.” Seth eased his foot from Robinson, but didn’t remove the gun. His gaze touched them one-by-one until it rested on the other doctor. “You all can agree on something. Though I doubt your reasons are as pure as theirs, Sandra.”

  “Mom.” Amanda scooted toward where Eileen lay face down on the floor, unmoving. She held her breath and brushed back a strand of her mother’s dark hair. A red welt surfaced on the woman’s cheek. Her eyes opened. “Don’t give up, honey.” The words were so soft, Amanda bent closer to hear them.

  “Grandma?” Paige shuffled next to her, tears running down her face.

  The older woman patted Paige’s hand, looked up at Amanda and whispered, “Get the gun, A.J.”

  What? She glanced around the room. Robinson still struggled for a decent breath, his gaze hard and focused on the man above him. His right leg was bent, revealing the edge of his ankle holster.

  How had her mom remembered that? Was Davis right? Did the drug work?

  “That’s my girl.” A smile blossomed on her mom’s face.

  “It’s a multifaceted disease.” Sandra’s voice filled the space. “Intricate. It took me years to perfect the methods. The screening. The drug. I forfeited my life for it.”

  “Yeah. I think you forget how many of those hours I sat there with you. So, you don’t have to explain it to me. I’ve lived with it. Watched it consume my brother. It destroyed his family. Do you think Killian, here, cares about what you lost? His father is dead. And you could’ve prevented it.”

  “The trial was randomized, Seth.”

  His sardonic laugh split the silence. “Remember that time you came to me and asked for help?” He moved to her side of the room. Jerked Sandra forward by her hands. “Had a few too many cocktail
s and ended up with pregnancy number three—or was it number four? I forget. You didn’t want another kid. The one you already had tied you down too much.” He shoved her backward. Her body hit the table. The stack of chairs crashed to the floor.

  Amanda rushed toward Robinson. “Holding up?”

  “Peachy.” The word came through clenched teeth.

  Amanda patted his leg as if she were comforting him. She slid her bound hands toward his ankle. In her peripheral vision, she located Killian in the far corner. His attention swept the room before returning to Seth and Sandra.

  Please let the LCP Ruger be here.

  “I never asked questions. I helped you because we were friends and colleagues. I forged legal documents. And you couldn’t give my brother the drug. You gave him the placebo. After you promised me.”

  Sandra straightened. “I didn’t have any control over it.”

  “You should have thought about that before you made promises you couldn’t keep. You didn’t seem to have a problem ensuring Eileen Nettles received the actual drug. If I heard right, you said you paid for it.”

  What? Amanda’s hand stilled.

  Sandra’s gaze flicked to her, a hint of guilt there. “I paid a charity in her name. I paid her to join the trial. It wasn’t fixed.”

  “I don’t believe you.” He raised his gun “You took my brother from me.”

  Sandra shook her head as she backed into the table, both hands raised.

  “I’d love nothing more than to shoot you and be done with it. But then those girls’ lives would’ve been in vain.” He leveled the barrel under her chin.

  “You didn’t have to kill them.” She gave a harsh swallow. “You don’t have to kill anyone.”

  “A matter of opinion.” He backed away, turned and headed toward Paige and Eileen. He gripped a handful of Paige’s hair and pulled her upward. She reached above her head, didn’t make purchase. Her full-blown scream sent chills straight to Amanda’s heart.

  Her uninjured hand circled the gun. In her left hand it felt foreign. She’d only practiced shooting southpaw a handful of times.

  You’re not afraid.