by Low, Gennita
Langley swore. “Have you called the cops, yet?”
“No. If we alert them they’ll call in SWAT and somebody will get killed. We need to handle this ourselves. I need you to call Bowie and get over here. I’ll call Doc. Bring your gear.”
“I’m on my way.”
Hawk stared at the phone. If Derrick hurt her he’d kill him. But it wouldn’t bring her back. His life would be empty—empty. He had finally tasted real love, and he’d nearly blown it. He’d only had a taste of the second chance Zoe seemed to be willing to give him. He wanted more.
Stay strong, Zoe. I’m coming. I’m coming.
*
Fear poured through Zoe stealing her strength and making her limbs rubbery, her breathing harsh. Please, don’t let Brett come in here. Derrick’s grip on her jaw tightened. Though her mouth was uncovered she couldn’t utter a sound. Tears stung her eyes and her vision blurred.
“Damn you, tell me,” Derrick said and turned the barrel of the .357 Magnum against her side. All the facts about the gun Brett had recited day after day flashed through her thoughts. If he pulled the trigger there was no way she would survive. Zoe raised a trembling hand and pointed toward the hall. Derrick twisted her around, his arm around her neck holding her back against him. He forced her forward.
Brett came out of the bedroom down the hall. He jerked to a stop when he saw them, his lips parted in shock. He recovered quickly and his eyes went flat and hard. “Let my sister go, Derrick.”
“Not until I’ve seen Marjorie.”
Zoe tried to shake her head, but Derrick dug the gun into her waist and gave her jaw a painful warning squeeze.
“Don’t do this, man. You’re just digging yourself a hole you’ll never be able to climb out of.”
Derrick’s muscles bunched. “Shut up, Cutter. Get Marjorie, or I’ll twist your sister’s head off.” His voice sounded hoarse.
“I’m here, Derrick,” Marjorie appeared in the doorway. Her eye looked grotesquely swollen, her cheekbone, eye, and temple purple. The rest of her face looked paper white. “Let Zoe go. I’m here.”
Where Derrick’s brutal grip hadn’t rung tears from her, the weary acceptance in Marjorie’s features had them welling up and sliding down Zoe’s cheeks.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you, baby. I swear I didn’t.”
“I know, Derrick. But you did.” Her voice sounded weary. “Let Zoe go. This isn’t between you and her, it’s between you and me.”
Derrick released Zoe and shoved her forward. Her legs unsteady, she staggered and would have fallen had Brett not caught her.
Brett scowled. “God Damn it, Derrick. What is wrong with you?”
“She should have kept her nose where it belongs, just like you should have.”
Brett’s eyes narrowed and he pushed Zoe behind him. “You want to put that gun down and come over here and shove me around?”
Fear, abrasive as steel wool, scratched its way up along Zoe’s nerves. From behind, she grasped Brett’s arm and squeezed it tight. Didn’t he know better than to bait an unstable man?
Looking over Brett’s shoulder she noticed how haggard Derrick appeared. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, his jaw shadowed with beard stubble. He held the gun next to his side yet didn’t take his finger off the trigger. All he’d have to do was raise it and fire and one of them would be dead.
“Come out from behind, Cutter so I can talk to you.” Derrick motioned at Marjorie with the gun.
Marjorie shook her head and her body trembled visibly. “Not until you put the gun away. I’m afraid of guns, you know that.”
Zoe laid a hand on her arm, offering her what comfort she could.
Derrick focused on Marjorie, intent, unblinking. “You went to the police today, didn’t you?”
She hesitated, her eyes straying to the gun. “Yes.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” There was accusation in his tone.
“Please put the gun away, Derrick.”
“You didn’t have to do it,” he shouted, his voice cracking. The sound thrummed through the narrow hall making both Zoe and Marjorie jerk as though a jolt of electricity had leapt through them.
Brett reached out a hand to ease Marjorie further behind him.
“Get out from behind Brett and face me, damn it.”
“No—No,” Marjorie started crying in earnest. “You’re going to hurt me again. You’re going to kill me. I’m afraid—I’m afraid.” She clenched part of Brett’s shirt and cowered against his side as close as she could get.
“I’m not going to hurt you, but if I have to go through him to get to you, I will, Marjorie.” Derrick cocked the gun at his side. The soft snick echoed over and over in Zoe’s head growing louder and louder. The hallway seemed to shrink and become claustrophobic.
“I wouldn’t have hurt you but—You won’t be here when I get back. You won’t stick it out. You’ll be with some other guy, laughing with him, touching him, sleeping with him. Doing things with him you’re only supposed to do with me. I thought you were already.”
“You didn’t go to Jessica’s, did you? You didn’t hurt her did you?” Marjorie asked a note of panic in her tone.
“Fuck her. Why did you go running off to her the minute I was gone?”
“Because I missed you, Derrick. I needed to have someone with me.”
The open pain in Marjorie’s voice punched through Zoe making her chest ache and her throat tighten. With Derrick standing just a few feet away, threatening and unstable, the words she and Hawk spoke outside his office seemed mundane and useless. Why couldn’t they have said something important to one another? Why hadn’t she told him she loved him?
Brett’s muscles grew taut as he tried to cover them both with his body. “She’s terrified, Derrick. Put the gun down and we’ll all sit down and talk,” he said, his tone soothing.
Derrick’s face grew flushed and he scowled. He took two strides toward them, raising the gun as he came. He pressed the barrel of the weapon against Brett’s forehead with enough force that he had to tilt his head back. “Shut the fuck up, Cutter. If I wanted your advice, I’d ask for it. Stay the fuck out of my business or I might just finish what I started in Iraq. You should have never put that kid between us, Cutter.”
Brett braced his feet apart to maintain his balance. “What kid, Strong Man?” Brett’s conversational tone belied the fact he had a gun pointed at his head.
Derrick’s eyes narrowed. His tone grew scoffing. “Always the hero. That can get you killed real quick, you know.”
Derrick reached for Marjorie’s arm and Brett blocked the attempt with his own. “What do you mean, Derrick?”
Distracted, Derrick’s aim wandered away from Brett’s head and Zoe drew a shaky breath as the gun pointed at the ceiling.
“That kid would have just as soon killed you as looked at you.”
“What kid?”
Derrick’s gaze grew steady and dark as though he were focusing on some distant place inside his own head. “It doesn’t matter now, you don’t remember, and I’m never going to tell you. You’ll just have to figure it out for yourself.”
He lunged at Marjorie grabbing her arm. She squealed in protest and tried to pull away. Brett knocked the gun aside and twisted to one side in an attempt to shove Derrick back.
Zoe staggered back against the wall. Brett struggled to gain control of the gun. The barrel of the 357 swung toward Zoe’s face. With a frightened cry, she grabbed both Derrick’s wrist and the barrel of the gun. She tried to twist it from his grasp.
The front door crashed inward and Langley appeared in full body armor as Hawk stepped in from the kitchen doorway, a taser raised and ready. He fired and almost simultaneously the Magnum leaped in her hand as it discharged blowing a hole in the wall next to her. The magnitude of the sound jerked a startled yelp from Zoe. Sheetrock dust and insulation flew through the air. Derrick screamed and fell to the floor his body jerking from the electrical current as though he were havi
ng a seizure.
Doc, Bowie, and Langley, battle ready and armed, rushed into the hall. As a unit, they pointed their guns at Derrick. After holstering his weapon, Bowie whipped out plastic handcuffs, rolled him over and secured his hands behind his back. Langley retrieved the Magnum from the floor, while Doc bent to check Derrick’s pulse. The only sounds in the hall were the dispassionate, well-trained replies of “target is secure” and “clear”.
Hawk shoved the taser into Brett’s hand as he pushed passed him and Marjorie. He reached for Zoe.
With a sob, she went into his arms. His Kevlar vest, stiff and rough, pressed into her breasts and his utility belt dug into her stomach. She didn’t care. They were all safe and his arms held her close.
She drew back to look up at him, her vision blurred, and blinked away the tears that continued to fall. His gaze had never been more intent. His hands trembled as he ran them over her shoulders and arms as though checking for injuries and brushing the tufts of insulation away. “I love you, Zoe. I love you.”
His voice sounded muffled beneath the ringing in her ears, but she heard him. A sweet tangle of emotion rushed through her, and she smiled through her tears. “I love you, too.”
When Hawk bent his head to kiss her, her arms went around his neck and she rose on tiptoe to meet him halfway.
As their lips met, one word rang out behind them in a masculine chorus.
“Hooyah.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‡
“Come on, Ensign Clark. I know you can do it,” Zoe said as she watched the young sailor struggle to maintain his balance between the parallel bars. She gripped the gate belt around his waist to steady him as he lifted his foot just enough to slide it over the floor, lay it down, and then shift his weight. His breath came in quick gasps. Sweat beaded his forehead dampening his blond hair in front and darkening it. He paused a moment before raising the other foot.
“Jesus, this hurts like a son-of-a-bitch,” he said as he got the other foot going.
She grimaced in sympathy. “After having both legs nearly crushed, you didn’t expect they’d work just like new the first time out, did you?”
“Well, a guy can hope can’t he?”
“We certainly don’t dissuade hope around here. Isn’t that right, Tank?” She shot a look at the man standing directly behind Ensign Clark. He stood eight inches taller than the young serviceman and looked as though he could bench press a truck.
“Yes, ma’am.” Tank retrieved the wheelchair, ran it between the parallel bars and lined it up behind Clark. He set the brake.
Zoe gripped the gate belt harder. “Just ease yourself down now. Tank will help you. Take it slow.”
Once seated, Clark took several cleansing breaths. Zoe grasped one rail of the parallel bars to maintain her balance and bent to pick up the paper towels she had left lying on the exercise mat close by with a bottle of water. She offered them both to Clark and he grinned.
Another PT called to Tank for some help. After unbuckling the gate belt and removing it, Zoe leaned back against the parallel bars to wait for Tank’s return. He’d take Ensign Clark back to his room as soon as he was finished with the other patient.
Clark tucked the water bottle between his thighs and wiped his face. “How long have you been a physical therapist?”
“Here in California, almost six months. I practiced two years in Kentucky.”
He pointed the water bottle at her left calf encased in a brace. “How long since that happened?”
Her capris pants hid the scars on her thighs and buttocks but the more sever ones on her lower half of her leg were completely visible. She’d soon found showing her own scars encouraged the men not to be so conscious of theirs. “Since I was seven. Both my legs were involved too. It took me nearly a year to learn to walk again.”
“Shit!”
“You’ll get there Ensign Clark.” She patted his arm.
“Aren’t you going to give me a pep talk and tell me, if you can do it, I can, too?”
“Do you need me to?”
He grinned again. “Yeah, I think I could use a little moral support. You could come eat dinner with me when you get off.”
Zoe rested her hand on her protruding stomach and shook her head, amazed. When she had first started the job every new patient started out this way. Flirting came as natural to these guys as breathing. Now that her pregnancy was so pronounced, she couldn’t believe he was serious. “I have a boyfriend.”
“I heard. He’s in Iraq. It would just be dinner and he’d never know.”
Zoe studied Ensign Clark’s face. Young, handsome, and despite his current mobility problem, he’d be up and going again, as long as he did his therapy and kept a good attitude. She experienced not a single spark of interest. “I’d know, Ensign. I love my boyfriend.”
“So it’s the real deal, huh?”
“Yes, it is.
There was just enough regret in the young soldier’s face for Zoe to feel flattered.
“He’s a lucky man.”
Thinking about the loving message Hawk had sent her that morning via e-mail brought a smile to her lips. “I’m a lucky woman, too.”
Tank returned just then and grasped the handles of the wheelchair.
“See you tomorrow, Ensign.” Zoe waved briefly as she moved out of the way so Tank could push the chair through. She scanned the room on the lookout for her next patient.
Exercise mats covered several areas of the floor. Padded benches lined the walls at equal intervals. Three sets of parallel bars stationed in each corner of the room were in use, the fourth, where she stood, was the only one free. The injuries they saw each day ranged from accidental injuries like Ensign Clarks, to amputations suffered in battle.
Knowing she was needed and appreciated by the men, helped her continue to get up each day. And it helped pass the time until Hawk returned from Iraq. The baby moved and she rubbed the spot where a tiny limb protruded. “Please let him come home before the baby’s born. I don’t want to go through this alone,” she murmured beneath her breath.
“Zoe,” Brett’s voice came from a door to the left. She turned to face him. His intent expression had anxiety slicing through her. His long stride ate up the distance between them.
“What is it?” she asked her tone high-pitched with fear.
“Easy, Sis.” Brett reached for her and gave her a squeeze. “It’s nothing bad.”
She drew a deep breath as her heart thundered against her ribs. “You never come here. I just thought—” She turned her face against his shirt as quick tears burnt her eyes.
“Shh—” Brett gave her another squeeze. “I should have called before I came. I just wanted to surprise you.”
Zoe rested against him until the rush of emotion subsided. She drew back to look up at him. “It is a surprise. You never willingly show up here.”
“I need you to go somewhere with me.”
“I have one more patient, then I’ll be free.”
“Tank has agreed to take him for you.”
“Tank isn’t qualified to take him for me.”
“Lt. Cameron said she’d supervise for you. It’s important, Zo.”
She studied him for a moment. Now that the fear had passed she grew more curious. “Where is it you want me to go?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise anymore, now would it?”
She grimaced in agreement. “All right. Let me get my purse from my locker.”
Brett grinned. “Good.”
“Have you heard from Hawk today?” Brett asked as they got into the car.
“Yes. He emailed me early this morning. I know he tries to paint a rosy picture to keep me from worrying.” She buckled the seat belt as he backed out of the parking slot.
“You do the same for him,” he said accusation in his tone.
Zoe ran a hand over her stomach. “The only thing I want him thinking about is coming home. I’m not going to cause him any distractions.�
�
“For someone who used to be determined never to get involved with a man in uniform, you’ve turned into the perfect military spouse.”
“I’m not a spouse, just a girlfriend.”
“Hawk will want to get married as soon as he finds out about the baby. Hell, he’d have married you before he left if everything hadn’t gone to shit.”
If he’d known she was pregnant, they might have both been in a little more of a rush. But she hadn’t wanted that. Zoe brushed at the soft curls that feathered around her face. “We’ll deal with everything when he comes home.” When he comes home. He had to come home.
“Where are we going?” Zoe asked as a guard waved them through the gates at the base.
“We’ll be there in a minute.”
“How is the class going?” she asked.
“Fine. I only draw a blank now and then.”
Zoe’s throat grew tight. She knew he was making light of things so she wouldn’t worry. “Brett, please don’t sugar coat things. I want to share things with you. I need to know you can talk to me so I won’t feel I can’t talk to you.”
Brett glanced in her direction then reached for her hand. He gave it a squeeze. “I really am doing okay, sis. The new assignment has gone a long way to ensuring that.”
“Good, I’m glad.” She paused. “And how did your visit with Derrick go?”
“He finally admitted he knocked me out and left me to die.”
His tone sounded so subdued, so weary, Zoe laid a hand on his arm in comfort. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “He still won’t explain what happened with the kid.” Pain flickered across his features. “I thought we were buds as well as team mates.”
“Is he getting counseling while he’s in prison?”
“Yeah.”
Zoe shifted the conversation. “Wonder who it was that slapped you in the hospital?
“Since it wasn’t Derrick, it had to be Flash. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know why since he’s probably dead.”
He turned into the fenced in area of the Miramar Air Station and parked the car. He glanced at his watch. “We’re here.”
