Under His Skin
Page 16
He pivoted, decided her cry had come from the neighboring room, so he pushed at the door. But it was locked.
He unholstered his gun and shot the door lock. Once. Twice. Gritting his teeth, he twisted the knob and kicked open the door.
His heart stopped. Grace was tied down to a surgical table and Poultry stood over her, holding a hypodermic in his hand.
Chapter Twenty-One
Poultry jerked his head toward Parker, his face twisting into a snarl. “Going to join us, Detective?”
Parker raised his weapon and aimed. “Put down the needle, Poultry.”
“I wasn’t going to hurt her,” Poultry said with a sick laugh. “Just put her to sleep forever.”
“He killed Bruno,” Grace whispered hoarsely.
“I know you’re the one who’s been stealing the bodies,” Parker said. “That you removed tissue and sold it to the tissue banks.”
Poultry frowned, wild-eyed, as if he might be high. “I’m not going to jail. I’d rather die.”
Parker took a step forward. “That can be arranged.”
Poultry raised the needle to stab himself, but Parker lunged toward him and knocked it out of his hand with the butt of his gun, then grabbed his arms, spun him around and slammed his face down onto the floor. A second later he jammed his foot on top of Poultry’s back, then snapped the handcuffs tightly around his wrists.
“Why didn’t you just let me die?” the man cried.
“Because that’s the easy way out,” Parker growled. “You need to go to prison and pay.”
After reading Poultry his rights, he reached for his phone, punched in Bradford’s number and told him where they were.
Grace was squirming, struggling to free herself. “Move and I’ll shoot you,” Parker told Poultry.
His pulse clamored as he rushed to the table and untied the bindings around Grace’s wrists and ankles.
“Thank God you got here, Parker. He’s crazy…”
“I know, baby.” He yanked her into his arms and pressed her head to his chest, rocking her back and forth. His chest ached from an effort to breathe, from knowing he was almost too late. “But he’s going to pay now.”
Bradford and a security guard burst into the room, quickly assessing the scene. “She all right?” Bradford asked when he saw that the assistant ME was secured.
“Yeah. Do me a favor, get him out of here,” Parker growled. “And let’s have a CSI team in here to photograph the scene and sweep it for trace. I don’t want this guy going free for any reason.”
Bradford nodded. “Come on, Poultry. We’ve got a cell waiting for you.”
Parker glanced at the security guard. “If you could confiscate security tapes, that would help.”
“Sure thing.” The guard hurried out and Parker helped Grace off the gurney. He was still shaking all over from seeing her strapped down.
She clung to his arm, her legs buckling. “Parker…”
“Not here.” He picked her up and carried her through the doors, then headed outside. Grace curled against him, her body trembling. He paused in the shadows of the doorway outside, breathing in the night air, then sent a prayer to heaven that he’d made it in time to save Grace.
“I was so afraid I’d lost you,” he said, hugging her tight.
She pressed her hand against his chest. “I thought I’d lost you, too.”
His gaze met hers, emotions lodging in his throat.
“Where do you want to go from here?” he asked quietly.
She traced a finger along his mouth. His stomach clenched at the emotions darkening her eyes. “Home with you,” she whispered.
Relief surged through him. “Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“Are you going to walk away again?” He breathed deeply. “Because I don’t want only one night, Grace.”
She shook her head. “No, Parker, no more running.”
He kissed her hair. “God, Grace…I was so afraid I’d be too late—”
“But you weren’t,” she said softly. “You saved me, Parker. You protected me.”
“I would have died for you.”
“I know.” Her voice broke, and she stroked the side of his cheek. “How can I walk away from a man like that?”
His chest ached. “I could think about taking a desk job—”
She pressed a finger to his lips to hush him. “No, you’re a cop, that’s who you are, just like my brother and father.”
“But you said you couldn’t marry a cop, couldn’t live that life.”
“I was wrong.” She kissed his jaw. “I couldn’t marry anyone else.” She traced a finger over his lips. “I realized something when I was trapped in there. I’ll always worry about you coming home at night, even if we aren’t together.”
He kissed her thoroughly, pouring his heart and soul into the kiss. “Then marry me, Grace? I promise I’ll come home to you and love you as long as I live.”
She laughed softly. “Yes, Parker, I’ll marry you.”
He grinned, his chest swelling with hope and dreams for their future. “All right, we’re going to have the doctor check you out. Then I’m taking you home.”
She clutched his shirt. “Are you sure you don’t have to go to the station? Take care of business? Go to physical therapy?”
He shook his head. “Rehab can wait. And Bradford can go to the station. I have more important things to do.”
She arched a brow, a teasing smile in her eyes. “Like what?”
“Like take you to bed.” He nuzzled her neck and began walking toward the ER. “I’m going to hold you until we both stop shaking, then make love to you until dawn.” He kissed her again, this time tenderly, filling the kiss with promises to come.
“Then we’ll sleep in each other’s arms, wake up and do it all over again.”
“That sounds perfect.” She sighed and curled into his arms. “I love you, Parker. I will love you forever.”
He laid his head against hers. “I love you, too, Grace.”
ISBN: 978-1-4268-1278-1
UNDER HIS SKIN
Copyright © 2008 by Rita B. Herron
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.eHarlequin.com