by Unknown
“Give us a medical breakdown of what he just said, for those not so up to date with redneck medical terminology.”
Nic grunted and it lifted his upper body, while he shook his head. She cleared her throat and gave them all a kind smile.
“Well, as he said, someone delivered Potassium Chloride to him intravenously, which means it was injected directly into his vein. It induced what looks to the untrained and very aware eye, like a heart attack. Had he died, it would have easily been classified as SCD, which is Sudden Cardiac Death. The thing is, your father does not have any heart problems, so since we know his history, the EMT’s noted the site where the drugs were administered and were able to give him a dose of Sodium Bicarbonate which counter-acted the effects of the Potassium Chloride and set him right.
“Unfortunately for him and us, his body sent him into a coma, which is like a hibernation of sorts; his body was protecting itself and focusing on getting right. Once a person goes into a coma, we can only take measures to help them breathe, feed them – intravenously – and the like, keeping them alive, physically. It is up to the person’s body to wake themselves up when it’s ready. We got lucky and his only lasted a couple of weeks. And extra lucky, because there is no fear of another heart attack since there is no sign of any cardiovascular problems.”
The brothers all listened while muffling curses and stifling grunts. Noah would understand most if not all of this, because he was their go-to for medical stuff – their medic.
“When I was ‘asleep’, after he gave me that drug, I heard him cussing and shuffling around, trying to get up and leave. I started hollering for your mama and one of you boys – I knew that Dillon was on his fishing trip and would be no help to me. It’s damn lucky your mama was coming to call me in for lunch.”
The Doctor touched his shoulder and gave him that sweet smile; a smile that indicated he genuinely cared for her patients.
“Thanks Jess.” Charlie said, trying his damnedest to look unaffected of her or the situation his father just played out. He turned on his heel and made quick strides out into the hallway.
Tommy followed first and the brothers all made it out behind him; doc stayed to check Nic out and see how he was feeling. They could all hear him grumbling from across the way, “Geez, can’t I have a smoke, ma’am? I’m feelin’ ready to get back home already.”
She presumably touched him somewhere still hurting because he gave out a pained curse; with a silent exchange, all of the men agreed they’d never mention it so long as they live. Nicholas was a tough sumbitch and seeing him in that little hospital gown really was like a kick to the family jewels; Nic and his dad were the two strongest men who knew and seeing one of the in such a frail environment seemed so off, disconcerting.
“So, we’re looking at this guy having been on our land the morning of. We still have tape of that day, right?” Noah asked.
“Gonna have to call Luke to be sure.” Mike nodded, but looked to Charlie. “We need someone to stay on him. As ornery as he is, he still needs someone to watch his six while he’s in here. No one is off limits. Foxhole friends move together, piss together, sleep together, you hear me?”
Again, everyone nodded and Tommy hollered, “Hooah battle buddy!”
Just because he could. It was a mutual love-hate relationship between the Marines and Army; they loved to hate each other.
“Foxhole friend, battle bitch, shipmates, you got the deal.” He scoffed, his competitive streak peeking out.
Noah and Tommy laughed, exchanging looks.
“I’ll get J.R. up here and he can switch off with Skippy tomorrow.” Charlie said.
“Alright. They should be good enough. It’s not like he can go anywhere. We’ll get something together for when he’s released. Charlie, stay on base with the Doctor and let us know what we’re looking at. Having you handle this will keep us on site and closer to Taylor. This is escalating and I’ve got a gut feeling this is about to come to a head.”
Charlie was turning away, already calling in his deputy and Mike looked to Tommy and Peyton. “You two get back to Taylor and keep Matt in the loop.”
They nodded and took off without waiting for further orders. It was one of those situations where you don’t sit around and twiddle your thumbs, debating the best novel of all time and sharing a glass of brandy. Peyton climbed up into his truck and Tommy peeled out of the hospital parking lot, tearing ass down the dirt road’s until he was pulled up in front of his house. He didn’t even have the patience to wait and park it in the garage. His stomach was like a bowl full of ice cubes as he approached the front gate only to realize it was open and no one was manning it. There were two teams on the perimeter of the land but only Dillon was on the gate tonight. That did not bode well for his safety – whether he was dicking around and Tommy got to him or if someone took him out.
Peyton had whipped out his glock and his cell phone at the same time as they flew through the gate and dialed Luke.
“Gate’s down – anything?”
Tommy sat and waited for him to convey what Luke was saying.
“He has no coverage and is running off Betty’s power grid. He’s black.”
“Fuck.”
Swearing the mantra, she better be okay with you Carver.
* * *
“Hungry?” Matt asked me, herding me towards the kitchen. He’s lucky he still had his balls intact.
“Not particularly. I’m full on betrayal at this moment.” I sneered.
“More for me, then.” He chuckled.
“You’re a complete…. I just… I don’t even have words for what you are right now.”
“Whatever you can think, I’ve been called worse. Trust me. But I’m with Tommy on this one, sweetheart – your safety at all costs.”
“I’m going to bed. There’s no point in fighting with you. One of us will get stabbed and I prefer not to hide bodies in a hurry.” I waved him off in that nasty way that stuffy old ladies do and continued on to the rear staircase. No turning back now or he’d know how scared I really was. He was once my refuge, but he turned his back on me and I wasn’t giving in this time.
“I’ll be there in two minutes. Do not even think about the balcony; I will shoot anything I hear outside of this house and that means your pretty ass if it finally gets you to sit still and do as you’re told.”
“Like you could even get the safety off before I ran.” I scoffed at him. Pretty boy cringed when he saw my little bitty .22.
“Tell you what, when I get upstairs, I’ll show you something really neat. First though, I need sustenance to keep up with you.” He grinned at my retreating back. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew it in his voice well enough by now.
“Bros before hoes and all that shit, huh?” I mumbled, creeping up the stairs on high alert.
“You’re my favorite hoe though, and I’d put you before any bro, any day.” I heard Matt reply just loud enough so he knew I heard him.
Show off. Guy had ears like a dang bat.
When I finally reached the bedroom, I closed the door behind me and glanced around the room taking a mental inventory or where every single thing was. It was weird how I had taken to doing this since the first time the stalker was in my house. If I noticed anything just a little off, I went on high alert and knew something was off.
That or I was really freakin’ paranoid. Either of which was a total possibility.
I let out the breath I was unconsciously holding, strolling over to the bed.
What to do, now. I glanced over at the desk Tommy had brought up and put in the corner by the closet. I supposed I could try and put some words to paper, but that would only make me think and right now, thinking was the very last thing I wanted to do.
That left sleeping, or bath. Hmm….
Where’s the whiskey? My eyes narrowed and I looked over to where I left it on the nightstand. No whiskey. Damn him.
A swishing noise had me turning back towards the desk; all too quickly a ha
nd clamped over my mouth and the bed dipped as someone put a knee next to me, giving them a better stance to hold me still. They lowered their mouth to my ear, from out of my view and whispered eerily, “They should never have left you alone. Not even for a second Annie.”
I was fighting with all my might, but they way outweighed me and I had no chance so I gave up the struggle to hear what he was saying. It gave me a chance to catch my breath and plan my next move. The one time I’m not strapped.
“I will let go, but you have to be a good girl and promise not to scream. I promise I won’t hurt you.”
His mouth was touching the shell of my ear and if that wasn’t enough to do it, he sniffed my hair, effectively making me shudder with repulsion.
I took as deep a breath as I could and nodded my understanding, agreement.
They slowly pulled their hand away and slid a hand under my arms to help me stand.
Weirdest stalker ever. I’m pretty sure. I don’t have a ton of personal interactive experience with them, not really.
They took a step beside me and it brought them more into my line of sight, but they had camo paint on their face. So they’ve been hiding in the wood line. How did trained snipers not spy them?
“I had a little insider help.” Their voice was giddy and deep – definitely a man. Familiar though. Creepier if anything though, because I knew I knew him and because it seemed like he read my thoughts.
“We don’t have much time. He’s coming and we have to go, Annie.”
“Who are you?” I whispered, trying my damnedest to keep my voice steady.
“I can’t tell you that. Not yet. I don’t want you to be scared.” He said, soothingly.
“I promise I won’t yell. I need to know.”
He seemed to have some sort of tender feelings for me, so I was going to exploit them as best I could. I knew a great tool in my back pocket would be personal touches, but I might vomit – or choke him – if I touch him, so I hold off.
“You know me. Just think back. I have always been watching over you. You’re my love, Annie and I won’t let anything or anyone hurt you. I’ve been watching and keeping him at bay.”
There was a hint of regret in his voice and I had to wonder if he regretted keeping me, as he thought, safe or he regretted that I was in this position now; why did I feel a twinge of sympathy for his sorrow? The confusion must have shown on my face because he gave a small shake of his head and put a hand on my arm. “Oh, no. I… I’m sorry I didn’t protect you well enough, but I’ll do better this time.”
Okay, this guy really was disturbing and in that “freak” category as far as stalkers went. Weren’t they supposed to be violent and all, “if you don’t love me we both die?”
“Tell me who you are.” I pushed again.
“We don’t have any more time. I fear he’s here. In the house, already. He’s found the tunnels that Tommy kept hidden.”
Dread washed over me. Matty; he’s downstairs and has no idea what’s going on. It’ll be all my fault if my best friend gets hurt (or worse) because I was so selfish to bring him into this mess of mine. This mess that I have no idea how I stumbled into, but it’s mine none the less. One word he said, strikes me and I can’t wrap my head around it.
“Tunnels?”
I actually gulped and pretty sure my eyes bugged out. Tunnels could not be a good thing…especially if a stalker knew about them and was telling me that someone else who wasn’t supposed to know, knew. Seriously, who was I in another life to have deserved this? Two people who wanted me, possibly, dead? I better go kissing babies and donating my small fortune after I make it out of this.
“Escape routes – his extreme case emergency exit. Tommy likes to be prepared.”
Okay, now he sounded like he really adored my husband, not me. I gave a mental shrug - if he wanted to jump on the Tommy-needs-a-stalker-train, who was I to stop him? My conscience kicked me. Bitch, this was self-survival time; me, then them.
“Please.” I almost begged. I had to know who I was fighting.
He stalled a total of six seconds (I counted) and then said, “I can’t take the paint off right now. Think back though – high school.”
It was all I needed. Those two words put a hurting and a deep, dark, cold fear in me that rooted me to the spot; tethered me to that time. It was a likely possibility that my jaw was on the floor and he could just walk right into my mouth.
“Leif?” My voice croaked.
I finally took a step back, unsure why I was still so close to him, allowing him to touch me. The world seemed to be shaking like we were in the middle of an earthquake but I realized it was just me, shaking my head furiously in denial.
“I swear to you Annie, I will not hurt you. But we have to go. He’s coming.”
I wanted to scream at him and pound his chest, find my .22 and leave him with a nice little souvenir for all the suffering he put me through; the bruises and broken arm I left him with last time weren’t enough. He wasn’t allowed to call me Annie, never, but in that moment I processed his words further and set myself straight.
“Who?” I asked.
I was thinking that he was way past cuckoo for cocoa puffs and likely the only thing I had to fear.
Boy, could I ever be so wrong.
This whole ordeal seemed to be one of slow motion, to deepen the effect; almost as if remaining quiet kept them at bay but speaking about the things we feared, they would come to light.
The balcony door swung open in an eerily silent fashion and standing there, locked and loaded is Dillon. His .9 mm was reflecting light from the full moon, making it even more ominous, dangerous.
Thank. Hallelujah.
Using the distraction, I make a break for it and kick off to run for the safety of Dillon’s arms when Leif grabs me by the shoulder; getting a handful of my hair, he yanks me back. He quietly breathes out an apology but he’s yanking still, pulling me into his body. Dillon takes a step forward, for which Leif takes another step back.
“Let her go Leif and we can figure this out. We can get you the help you need.” Dillon says in that tone he uses on injured animals.
“You can’t have her.”
In my periphery I see something shine by the light of the lamp and he’s jabbing it out in Dillon’s direction. Deep down, I strangle the sob that threatens to escape.
Shit just got real. I can handle guns, but knives… no thanks. In my opinion, they’re way more unpredictable and don’t come with a safety. No, the only knives I feel comfortable with are hunting knives but in this situation, I’d prefer… say, a Styrofoam child’s sword.
“Leif, put the knife down and let her go.” Good idea!
As I’m saying my prayers, I squeeze my eyes and hope that Tommy can hear me willing him here. I’m shaken from my thoughts as the bedroom door is kicked open and Matt clears the room, taking in the scene. My eyes fly open as I think that my prayers have been answered, and in a way they have; Matt will try to save me, but he isn’t the last face I want to see if this all turns south. Well, farther south.
“Matty.” I whimper.
“I’m here sweetheart.” He creeps into the room and I can see the cogs running in his head as he devises some sort of plan. I can’t imagine what an agent slash publisher can do in this situation, but I’m pleased to see him nonetheless. My selfish tendencies creep in and I think, at least I won’t die alone. Then, I smack myself because that is not how I should be thinking right now. If anyone deserves to die…
“Leif, please put the knife down.” I ask, swearing to myself that no matter what, I won’t beg.
“Dillon, why don’t you put the gun down?” Matt half suggests and my brows climb to the back of my head by way of my forehead.
Hello, is this thing on?
“How’s about we get rid of the knife first?” I plead with no one and everyone.
Leif has been murmuring something behind me since Dillon showed up and I only catch bits and pieces of it.
“Been too close, all along,” and “I knew it, no one believed me!” were the most terrifying.
“Leif, what didn’t anyone believe?” I asked him, turning ever so slightly, to peer at his face. The paint held but I could tell he was sweating bullets – how ironic.
That damn sympathy returned and despite the shit-tuation we were currently tangled up in, I knew you should get all the “facts” or thoughts if you will, before anyone in here goes bang-bang!
He turned his gaze to me still keeping Dillon in his sights and opened his mouth, but in an incredibly fast whirl of movement, Matt lunged for me, Dillon pulled the trigger twice and Leif shrieked out in pain.
Matt grabbed a hold to me, knocked me onto the bed, out of the way and as Leif went down, before Dillon could advance, Matt wrenched me up his body putting half the room between us and Dillon than already existed.
“Don’t come any closer.” He warned.
Out of nowhere, Matt had an FXS .45 tactical with flashlight and silencer attached, pointed square at Dillon’s forehead.
“Carver?” Dillon asked, almost impressed.
“Dilly?” I squeaked, paling further.
“Put the gun down, now.” It was no longer a warning, but a threat.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s the one; the one that Leif was talking about. Think about it – he’s been with you the entire time and knows all your secrets. How else did he get into your apartment and do all those things? Use your brain Taylor Ann. You’re smarter than that!” He yelled at me, waving his gun.
“I said, put the gun down. That is the last time I’ll tell you.”
“Look at him, Taylor. Clean cut my ass. He’s got a silencer for fuck’s sake! How many rich boys do you know that use a silencer, let alone own a fucking .45?”
My head was swimming with this turn of events; on one hand, I knew Dillon almost my whole life and on the other, I knew Matt for much less time, but completely. He really was there for me, the whole time when I was alone; scared, heartbroken and lonely.
