As Fate Would Have It

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As Fate Would Have It Page 12

by Cheyenne Meadows


  Swallowing, Brie squirmed in her seat. "Me?" Her voice wavered. "I don't understand."

  Gomez growled in her direction, his accent thick and heavy with agitation. "My informant at the police station." He gestured back toward his phone lying on the couch. "The cops bugged my house."

  Remaining mute, Brie scrambled to formulate escape plans.

  He moved closer, a tiger stalking his prey. "You are the only one that has been in here."

  Tabby stood beside Brie, looking back and forth between them. "Rafe, what are you talking about? She only visited that once. Brought me that nice welcome basket…"

  The light bulb went on for both of them. Tabby spun to angrily stare at Brie. "How dare you!"

  Gomez nudged her aside. "She won't do it again." Leaning closer, he stopped a few inches from her face. "I shall enjoy watching you writhe in pain while I find out exactly what you know. You will beg for death before I decide to end your life."

  Panic and fear welled to the surface.

  Tabby gave a snort and marched out of the room. "You know I can't stand all that screeching, Rafe. I'll be back later. After you dispose of the body." She grabbed her purse and paused at the kitchen door. "Oh, try not to make a bloody mess on the carpets. Last time, the stain ruined the carpets and I had to replace them." With that said, she escaped through the door to the garage.

  Brie stood toe to toe with Gomez, then made a dash around the dining table.

  Keep the table between you. Surely Gary and Rye were listening. They would mount a cavalry charge at any minute. Just buy time.

  Brie lunged from side to side, determined to stay as far away from Gomez as possible.

  He turned for an instant, opened a nearby drawer in the kitchen, and pulled out a gleaming steel bladed knife. His eyes flared nearly as bright as the light bouncing off the polished weapon. An evil grin of satisfaction covered his face as he slowly approached.

  Her heart tattooed a heavy beat as she prayed and juggled her position to stay away from him, understanding her life depended upon guessing correctly as to his next move.

  One shift left and she bounced in place, ready for the next counter move. Her purse lay open in the seat of the chair just under her hands. A familiar pink handle barely stuck above the other contents.

  She had to stall him.

  "Why are you going to kill me? I haven't done anything."

  He snarled and swiped with the knife, missing her easily. "You brought the cops in, bugged my house. Even now they are putting together evidence against me, Bandito, and Ramiro. Because of you, I shall lose all my hard earnings and money."

  She snorted. "Earnings? If you are committing a crime, I don't think you deserve those 'earnings'." If she was to die, she could at least make him spill the beans beforehand.

  "Do you know how many years I have worked to create this business? Lining up men, jewels, and money? I've earned it!" He yelled, his accent becoming even thicker with his anger. Cheeks turned bright red as he lunged and struck out again. Spanish words flung at her in anger.

  "I'm just a nobody. I think you have lost your mind. A smart man would consider his partners as the culprits. Men are greedy, you know."

  Gomez paused for a long moment, seeming to consider her theory. With a shake of his head, he resumed his hunt. "They know the consequences for double-crossing me. I will check on them later. First, you will die."

  He faked left and headed right. Brie missed the transition, finding herself spinning away from a knife blade now covered in blood. Her light blue T-shirt and shorts revealed a large tear, big enough that her shorts gaped and fell to the ground. With a yelp, she struggled back around the table.

  A jerk sent one dining chair over backward, blocking his progress momentarily. Sliding and skidding to a halt, Brie grabbed for her purse as she lost her balance. Contents sprinkled over the linoleum floor as she crashed to her side.

  Eyeing the Taser, she flipped on her back, scooting backward while Gomez advanced. The knife hung menacingly in his right hand as he smiled evilly down at her.

  Another scoot, she reached back, presumably to gain leverage on the slippery floor.

  "I'm tired of messing with you. Start talking now and I might end your suffering sooner."

  Brie panted with exertion, trying miserably to ignore the pain in her lower belly where the knife had struck. Her blood covered not only her clothing and hands, but the floor, too. As she continued to draw backward, her feet left slide marks in the red liquid.

  "I don't know… anything." She managed to gasp out once more.

  Her heart jumped as her fingers latched onto the pink Taser partially covered by her now empty handbag.

  Careful not to let on, she continued with her pitiful efforts to escape, falling to her side in order to hide the weapon she managed to retrieve.

  Hairy male legs stopped inches from her as he stared down. She breathed deep and waited for possibly her one and only chance.

  He reached out. She twisted, narrowly missing his questing hand, sitting up in the process. Bringing the Taser up, she pushed it outward, making sure to get as close as possible to him before pulling the button with all her might.

  A loud screech followed, along with him falling backward to the floor. She scrambled to put distance between them, keeping constant pressure on the trigger.

  "Brie!" A familiar voice hollered her name as navy blue uniformed men raced in through the door. Two of them jumped on top of Gomez, wrestling his arms behind his back.

  Brie sat heavily on the floor, sudden exhaustion replacing the surge of adrenalin. Her belly burned as her heart pitter-pattered. Rye's face appeared in her line of vision.

  "Brie? You okay?"

  She nodded, too weak and tired to answer.

  "I called dispatch for an ambulance. They should be here any time." Gary's voice broke through the melee. "They've got Tabby, too."

  Rye nodded at the information, but his eyes never left her face. He reached out to cup her cheek, while a tender kiss landed on her forehead. His mouth opened, but no words emerged.

  "Let us through!" An ambulance cart pushed through the crowd stopping beside her. A man and a woman in gray shirts and matching cargo pants began firing questions at her as they squeezed her arm with a blood pressure cuff. Before she could protest, strong arms lifted her and deposited her on the makeshift bed. The room spun, voices carried, before she relaxed into the comfort of the cart and closed her eyes.

  Chapter 28

  Emmie, one of the friendly emergency room nurses, remained in her room, cleaning up from the suture placement. "Who is tall, dark, and surly standing outside your door?"

  They were co-workers, not close friends. Yet, in a small hospital everyone knew everyone else. Emmie had transported more than one patient to Brie's medical floor for admission.

  "A Neanderthal," Brie answered flatly. Her independent streak had taken a sharp blow from his overbearing attitude.

  Emmie chuckled. "Funny. I thought they died out ten thousand years ago."

  "Yeah, well. Throwback." Brie winced at the pulling sensation below when she shifted position from her rear onto her side. "Could be reincarnation, I guess. Who knew a weasel would come back with such an attitude?"

  Tossing away the last needle in the red plastic biohazard bucket, the tall brunette, still wearing gloves, returned to pat her hand. "I think I could handle attitude from a man if he looked like that one. Talk about eye candy." She licked her lips and closed her eyes briefly. "Can you imagine him hot and sweaty and naked?"

  Brie squirmed and swallowing at the thought. Unfortunately, she could. Not something she wanted to focus on at the moment.

  A small pang of jealousy hit Brie. Emmie was just the type of woman Rye would go for. Tall, slender, graceful from her former life as a dancer. Dark hair framed her classically beautiful face. She possessed the personality to boot—playful, cheerful, and bubbly. What man could resist her if she set her sights on him? Brie was willing to bet none of them. />
  A knock sounded at the door. Who could it be now? She had seen the emergency room physician, the OBGYN, a couple of nurses, the on-call psychologist, a business office representative, and even the social worker. For the life of her, she couldn't imagine who else in this small building would need to see her. "Come in."

  Emmie paused at the door, tugging off her gloves, and used the dispenser by the door filled with alcohol hand wash. She shot Brie a small smile, then held the door open for Rye to enter, escaping in his wake.

  He stepped into the room, looking her over intensely. His eyes flashed, but he didn't speak.

  She sighed, twiddling her fingers in her lap. Certainly not the person she wanted to see. Well, he was and he wasn't. The shaken woman inside her wanted to crawl into his arms, soak up his strength and warmth as he held her and whispered soothingly in her ear. He would promise to keep her safe, and no man like Gomez would ever enter her life again.

  The solid independent streak inside was determined to stand tall and alone, proving she could handle anything the world threw at her. Embarrassment and shame hid just beneath the skin's surface and this stronger version of her fought to keep it that way. No way could she let him see such vulnerability.

  The knife had sliced through her skin, leaving a track from the right lower ribcage at an arc down to her low bikini line. No big damage, but it sure hurt like the devil. The doctor prescribed antibiotics just in case, but assured her that she would be as good as new soon. Stitches were due out in ten days, and he warned her to take it easy for a few days, just in case.

  She also sported freshly shaved private parts. Sure, Rye wasn't Superman and could see through her clothing. But she knew, and it made her all the antsier. Hard to be confident when you felt naked.

  "You okay?" His gaze still roamed her face as the whispered words escaped his mouth.

  She nodded, not sure she could speak in a steady voice. Her luck, the voice would crack and her façade of strength would crumble.

  He approached her bed, sitting down at the foot, and reached out to pat her knee through the covers. "You know, they had to call all around to find a doctor willing to come in and take that Taser probe out of Gomez's nuts."

  A tiny smile teased at her lips. That was the only good thing about this whole situation. She hadn't meant to do more than hit the man and fry him with enough juice to scramble his brains. She had hit him alright, in the testicles, and who knew what sort of long term damage five hundred thousand volts directly there would do. She hoped a lot.

  "How do you know that?" She glanced up to ask. With the stringent confidentiality laws in effect, no one was supposed to know anything.

  He pulled a handful of papers from under his jacket. "Police reports. We know everything."

  She lowered her head with that declaration as her throat tightened. Of course, they would know. He would know about all her injuries and what it took to fix them.

  He scootched up closer on the bed, taking one of her hands into his. "Women who are hairless down there are damn sexy."

  Her face heated to the level of a blast furnace. "Pervert."

  He grinned in response, and those dimples flashed. "Never denied it, honey." Leaning in, he placed a kiss to the top of her head, then her nose. "You've been sprung and I'm your chariot ride home."

  Chapter 29

  Brie glanced down at her borrowed scrubs then turned her attention to the strong, dark haired man sitting in the driver's seat. As if he felt her appraisal, a small grin appeared on his face. Reaching out, he waited. She returned the gesture, gingerly placing her smaller, pale hand in his, taking comfort when he intertwined his fingers with his, and gave a small squeeze.

  The emergency room scrounged up some hospital scrubs for her to wear home. Emmie helped dress her as she went over the discharge instructions and advice on care of her stitches. By the time Rye pulled her car around, she stood at the front door, more than ready to head home.

  They didn't say much during the drive, although Rye kept a close eye on her. More than once she felt his probing gaze, but words were few and far between.

  Once they arrived home, she made a beeline for her bedroom, intent on a hot shower to scrub away the memories of Gomez's touch on her skin. Just the thought of what happened sent her skin to crawling, and she prayed soap and water could work wonders on skin hygiene as well as mental trauma.

  She stepped from the shower a long time later, when cold water drove her from the sanctuary. She donned the shirt he loaned her their first night together and finished with a pair of loose shorts. Though the movements caused pain from the pull on the newly placed stitches, she managed to brush out her long hair, simply pulling it into a ponytail for easy care.

  A long look in the mirror caused her to sigh. Did anyone get the license plate of the truck that hit me? Bags sagged under her eyes, her shin sported a nasty purple bruise that matched the entire length of her cut nicely, while her knees bore fresh abrasions, red and raw from the struggles on a hardwood floor. Various small cuts and bruises speckled the rest of her body. She resembled the poster child for domestic abuse. Might as well get it over with before Rye decided to come looking for her. She lifted her chin, softly opened the door, and walked down the hall.

  Worry creased Rye's face as she emerged from her bedroom. Her eyes focused on his face and eyes, trying to read each and every thought written there. His gaze flicked over her quickly, yet thoroughly, before a corner of his mouth uplifted casually. "Dinner's ready."

  Her feet padded to the kitchen table. Rye had been busy while she washed the dirt, blood, and fears down the drain.

  "Thank you." She picked up a spoon and ladled a bite of hot soup. Leaning in, she sipped it after blowing across it a couple of times.

  He nodded, following her motions. "It's the least I could do."

  The words tugged at her heart, spelling out how responsible he felt for the whole situation. Guilt wracked his face and his eyes dulled with the load.

  "Rye…" Her words trailed off as she considered what to say.

  He looked at her, setting his glass of soda back down.

  "It's not your fault. I made the decision and went of my own accord. You couldn't have known what would happen. None of us could."

  A long pause later, he softly answered. "It's my job to know. I'm a cop. We have to plan for the worst case scenario." Reaching out, he gently rubbed his thumb across her discolored chin. "I shouldn't have let you go. I should have been there sooner, before he got his hands on you." His cheek tensed as he took in a deep breath. "I dropped the ball."

  "No, you didn't." She leaned into his caress, soaking up the warmth and attention like a frozen icicle on a warm sunny day. "I… I thought…" Her line of vision lowered to the steamy bowl of soup. "I thought it would be simple. After Jack, I guess I got overconfident and cocky."

  The scraping of a chair being scooted brought her attention back to Rye. He stood easily, took her hand, and pulled her up beside him.

  Unsure of his intentions, she remained still, waiting for his next move.

  "Come here." Tugging her hand, he guided her to the couch. He sat with one leg lining the back of the couch, the other bent at the knee, leaving one foot on the floor. Slowly, he settled her between his legs, encouraging her to lean back into his chest. As she complied, he wrapped both arms around her, allowing her to snuggle in.

  Brie stiffened for a second, a moment of independence flashing through her mind, before common sense and a wounded heart took over. With a couple of small wiggles, she managed to twist enough to rest the side of her head against his chest. The beat of his heart eased her tensions as did his fingers lightly stroking her back.

  He kissed her crown, adjusted a smidgen, then gave her a gentle hug, careful to avoid getting too close to her stitches. "You sure you're okay?"

  Brie remained still, allowing him to soothe her, as she considered his question. A lump formed in her throat preventing any words from escaping. With a nod, she sniffed and
focused on that lub-dub sound beneath her ear.

  He sighed heavily. "Want to talk about it?" The words were softly whispered against her hair.

  "I… I'm not sure." Her soft voice broke with emotion.

  He cupped the side of her head, holding her close against him, resting his chin on her crown as he began to speak. "I remember my first hand to hand fight with a criminal. It was hard, messy, and damn scary. All I could think about is he had nothing to lose in killing me."

  Brie nuzzled against his shirt. "Were you hurt?"

  "Yeah." He didn't elaborate further.

  She tilted her head to look into his face, noticing his eyes gazing across the room as if remembering the moment. "How did you… get past it?" The words tumbled out.

  Rye nudged her ear with his nose, leaving a kiss in his wake. "It gets easier. One day at a time. No, you don't forget, but you realize something else. How special each and every day is."

  She took a moment to consider those words before deciding to accept his sound advice. Cherish the moment. She'd heard a similar quote somewhere along the way and it stuck with her.

  Resting in Rye's arms marked one of those moments with her. She closed her eyes, leaning heavily into him. "Stay with me?"

  "I'm not leaving any time soon." The words rang with truth.

  She cuddled into him, feeling safe and warm, something she wasn't sure she would ever feel again after enduring such a trauma.

  Chapter 30

  Rye spent most of the night consoling her, wrapping her in his strength while bolstering her with his words of wisdom and insight. His hard body cushioned her smaller frame, body heat warming her physically while his tender touches, nuzzles, and kisses warmed her soul. Nothing would harm her while tucked in his embrace. She knew that for a fact.

  The doorbell chimed late the next morning, waking Brie from a restless sleep. Voices carried softly down the hall, allowing her to identify the visitors.

  "It appears this year's get well card is…" He opened the plastic bag containing a golden brown loaf and sniffed. "Banana bread."

 

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