He remembered how strong and steady her gaze had been when he’d awakened in the hospital after the shooting, remembered her telling him with absolute certainty that no matter what was wrong with him, she could handle it. If he never walked again, it wouldn’t make a difference in the way she felt about him.
At the time, he thought she was talking nonsense, making a lot of promises she hadn’t thought through simply because she believed he needed to hear the words.
But now he understood.
He just wanted her to get through this, to live, and he wanted to be by her side, to have her in his life. Whatever those bastards had done to her, whatever lasting damage they might have inflicted, he would still need her, in the same way he needed to breathe. He couldn’t imagine ever leaving her, no matter what.
He understood now what he’d put her through in the last few months. This was how she felt when he’d been shot This was what it was like to be able to do nothing more than watch and wait and make rash promises to God, if only He would grant you the one thing you needed most. To let the person who’d come to mean more to you than anything live.
It was agony. It was maddening and frustrating, the kind of thing that made a strong man realize how very weak he truly was. The sheer power of his feelings for her left him stunned and shaken. The thought that her life now hung in the balance, and there was nothing he could do, that it was totally out of his hands now, was nearly enough to make him crazy.
“Oh, God,” he prayed, leaning over her, letting his hands feather through a few strands of her hair, kissing the side of her bruised face.
He rode with her in the ambulance, and he proved himself useful as they quickly assessed her condition and stabilized her head, neck and back in preparation for the journey to the hospital.
Dan sat by her side holding a bag of IV fluids that slowly dripped into her arm and watching the readout on the cardiac monitor. Her heartbeat was fast, and her blood pressure alarmingly low, as was her body temperature.
It had been cold overnight, he remembered. What had Jamie been doing when it had turned so cold, he wondered? Where had she been? What had they been doing to her?
He peered between the orange, rectangular braces on either side of her head, looked down into her pale, lifeless and bruised face and felt a murderous rage coming over him. With grim intent, the paramedic sitting at her other side was monitoring her vital signs. Her breathing turned even more shallow, her heart rate sped up, her blood pressure dropped. She was in a dangerous downward spiral.
“Talk to her,” the man suggested.
Dan’s hand settled against the top of her head, slowly stroking her hair. He kissed her forehead, put his lips against the right side of her face as close as he could get to her ear, and called her name.
“Jamie—Come on, babe. I finally came to my senses. I’m here now, and you promised you’d be waiting for me.”
She didn’t stir. He told her all about rehab, all the things she’d wanted to know that he’d refused to share with her, but he got no response. The ambulance went bouncing over a bump in the road, jarring the entire vehicle, and she finally reacted—grimacing in pain.
“Jamie,” he said urgently. “Come on. Talk to me.”
Her eyelids flickered open, her gaze unfocused, her pupils dilated. She looked up at him as if she had no idea who he was.
“Jamie? It’s me. I’m right here beside you.”
“Dan?” She mouthed the word.
“That’s right.” He forced a smile. “I’m here.”
Her eyelids slid down. She mumbled something he couldn’t make out.
“What?”
“Don’t tell,” she whispered.
He went still. “Don’t tell? Who, babe?”
“Anyone.”
“Jamie?” he whispered more urgently than before. “You don’t want me to call anyone? Your parents? Your brothers?”
“No.”
“The agency?” he tried. “You don’t want anyone from the agency to know you’re here? Or what’s happened?”
“No,” she said faintly, sounding worried. And scared.
He went still at her words, the implication clear. It meant someone from the agency was involved.
Did she know that for sure, or did she merely suspect it? What had those bastards told her? Did she think they were going to come after her in the hospital?
Dan hoped to hell someone did try to get to her. He wouldn’t let anyone touch her, but he’d at least know who was responsible for hurting her this way. Then he’d have someone to punish, would be able to unleash that coldblooded, murderous anger rushing through him.
“I’ll take care of it, babe,” he promised.
She drifted back into unconsciousness, and he sat beside her. His hand stroked her hair, his face next to hers, so he could hear every breath she took and reassure himself that she was truly alive, that she was safe and by his side. But there were so many ways in which a woman could be hurt. Squeezing his eyes shut, he broke out into a cold sweat at the ugly images flashing through his head.
When he was finally able to, he forced himself to take another long look at her. Her shirt had been ripped open at the neck to make room for the cardiac monitors attached to her chest. Through the opening, he saw bruised, discolored flesh. And he remembered cuts, scrapes, the beginnings of bruises on the rest of her body, now covered with a thick, thermal blanket.
Dan knew she was strong and fast, an incredibly capable and courageous woman. But there’d always been something so delicate about her. He’d seen her traipse through the mud and the swamp, seen her sweating and ready to fall over from fatigue, seen her burning with the fire of anger, hurt in that devastatingly quiet way of hers when he’d said something designed to push her away.
But he’d never seen her like this. Never seen her fearful and disoriented and so weak it scared him. This was what he’d wanted to protect her from. When he’d ridden her so hard through her Intermediaries, he honestly hadn’t wanted her to make it through the program. Because he never wanted her to go through anything like this.
Close calls were a part of the job. A bullet here and there. A knife. A fall. A fist. Usually there were weeks of preparation, an adrenaline rush that came hard and fast, that carried you through until the job was done. At times, there were a few dizzying moments of terror when things went wrong.
But this... There were rope burns on her wrists and her ankles. Those bastards had her for a day and a half. They’d held her prisoner. Tied her hands and feet together. Beaten her.
He felt sick inside and bitterly angry with himself for not being able to prevent it from happening. And he would make them pay.
Jamie thought she must have split her skull in two. The noises were assaulting her, the light blinding her. She moaned, broke out in a cold sweat and started to shake.
Someone held her hand, she realized, the touch blessedly warm and reassuring. “Shh,” a voice said, a soft, female voice. “You’re safe now. We’re gonna take good care of you.”
“Who?” she whispered. “Where?”
“You’re in the emergency room at St. Mary Margaret’s.”
St. Mary Margaret’s?
It was too close. She breathed in deeply, flinched at the resulting pain in her side, wondered how she’d gotten away. Or if they’d simply left her for dead. She couldn’t imagine they’d given her up willingly.
And then she remembered—the car. They’d shoved her out of the car in a desperate effort to slow down the people chasing them.
Oh, God, the car.
The kindly nurse squeezed her hand more tightly. “It’s all right. I’ll stay with you. Or I’ll call someone for you, if you like. Who can I call?”
Dan, she thought. She could have sworn she’d heard his voice, sounding rough and strained and insistent, as she was drifting in and out of consciousness. But he was in Maryland, an hour and a half away. She panicked, thinking of what could happen to her in an hour and a half, and she knew
what she had to do.
“Josh,” she told the nurse, having to concentrate hard to come up with his cell phone number and beeper number.
It would have to be Josh. He lived nearby. The agency offices weren’t far, either. If the nurse could find him, he could be here in minutes.
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” the nurse said.
Dan was sitting in a chair against the wall opposite the treatment room Jamie was in when the nurse walked out. Awkwardly, he got to his feet. Leaning heavily on a black cane, he walked slowly across the hall. He stopped the nurse by putting his hand on her arm.
“How is she?” he demanded.
The nurse took one look at the way he was leaning on that cane and tried to help him back to the chair. “And what did you do to yourself?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said impatiently. “The woman in there. How is she?”
“And who are you?”
“Dan Reese,” he said simply.
“Her husband?”
“No. She’s not married.”
“Next of kin?”
“No. Her parents are out of the country, and her brothers... I don’t know where her brothers are. I rode here with her in the ambulance. I’m...” He couldn’t put into words what he was to her, what he felt for her, settled for simply saying, “I have to know how she is.”
“We’re still assessing her condition.”
Dan could have put his fist through the wall. “Is she going to make it?”
“Right now, she’s extremely weak, her vital signs aren’t good and we’re still checking for internal injuries.”
He absorbed all of that, piece by piece, willing himself to be calm, to try to act halfway civilized and not like some madman. Drawing on hard-won patience, Dan said, “I need to see her.”
The nurse looked him in the eye and said, “I’m sorry. She’s asked me to call someone else.”
The words cut deep. He winced, then realized the implication of what he’d been told. “She’s conscious?”
“Right now, she’s drifting in and out.”
“I need to see her,” he repeated.
“Look, I—”
“Ask her,” he insisted. “My name is Dan. She’ll see me.”
“All right.” The nurse’s eyes flashed a warning. “Wait right here.”
Dan turned around and leaned heavily against the wall. She’d been conscious, he reminded himself. And coherent enough to give the nurse a name and phone number.
Not his.
He wouldn’t think about that now.
Restlessly, he pushed a hand through his hair and closed his eyes.
Oh, God, Jamie.
The nurse came back quickly. “She’ll see you.”
He turned, ready to push his way into the room, but the nurse blocked his way. “We need to come to an understanding. Someone’s been using her for a punching bag.”
“I know,” he said. The woman was still glaring at him. Finally, he realized why and said, “It wasn’t me.”
“All right,” she said, as if she didn’t believe a word he said.
“Do you think I’d be half out of my mind worrying about her, if I was the one who did this to her?”
“I wouldn’t think so. But I’ve seen it happen. Ten years in the ER, and you’ve seen just about everything.”
Through clenched teeth, Dan said, “I’m not going to hurt her.”
“Not here, you’re not. I won’t have you upsetting her, either.”
“Of course not.”
“She looks bad,” the nurse warned.
“I know.”
“The doctors are still with her. They’ll likely be in and out for hours. But she’s scared, and if it makes her feel better to have you with her, they’ll probably let you stay.”
“I understand.”
The nurse finally stepped aside. Dan pushed open the door and found himself reluctant to go any farther. He looked at the gurney in the midst of the room, saw her hair, a rich, black pool of color against the stark white of the sheet. Her cheek was bruised, one eye puffy, her lip swollen and split. The injuries seemed to stand out even more in the light. On her forehead, near her hairline, there was a big piece of white gauze, now stained red. Three people hovered around her, bent over her right leg, blocking his view of the lower half of her body.
Leaning heavily on the cane, remembering the things he’d gone through himself in a hospital not too far from this one, he felt sick inside, felt a rage start to burn low in his belly and spread throughout his entire being.
He didn’t want her going through anything like that.
Dan moved slowly. He’d graduated to the cane only days ago, and it took a great deal of concentration and effort to move with so little support. All too easily, he could fall flat on his face. He schooled his features to wipe any traces of fear and outrage from his face. He was three steps away from her when her head turned slowly to the left and she saw him. “Dan.”
She was breathless, her voice sounding so weak, it scared him all over again. He rushed the last three steps, something he couldn’t afford to do. His cane clattered to the floor, the sound bringing all eyes in the room to him, something he would have found humiliating under any other circumstances. But today, he simply didn’t care.
Jamie did. The stark clatter of the cane against the hard flooring startled her. She tensed, jerked a little, the abrupt movement hurting her.
The nurse pushed a stool to the side of the gurney. Grateful, he sank down onto the stool and bent over the battered, bruised face of the woman he feared he’d never see again.
“Sorry,” he whispered, his hand stroking gently through her hair. “I’m still clumsy, still bumping into things and knocking them over.”
She tried to smile again, her eyelids drifting downward. “You’re not even here.”
He had to bend even closer to catch the words. “I’m not?”
She shook her head and winced.
He spread his hand wide against the top of her head to halt the movement. “Be still, Jamie. It won’t hurt as much if you stay still.”
“Promise?” she said drowsily.
“Promise.”
“I know you’re not here,” she insisted.
“Why?”
“You’re walking.”
Dan sighed. “That’s debatable.”
“You can’t walk,” she insisted.
He began to understand. He had a lot of explaining to do. “I’ll tell you about it. I’ll explain everything later. When you’re better. Okay?”
A single tear seeped from the corner of her right eye, which was drooping shut. “Dan?”
“Yes, babe.”
“Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t, Jamie. For as long as you want me, I’ll be right here.”
He pressed his lips to her bruised face, kissed away her tears, then lowered his forehead to hers and let it rest against her soft skin. And when he wanted to shout and rant and rage at what had been done to her, he forced his voice to be quiet, to soothe and to try to calm, to reassure.
“Go to sleep, babe.” He kissed her again, softly, this time pressing his lips against the corner of her bruised lips. “I’ll be right here.”
He sat by her side for the next few days. She was unconscious most of the time, exhaustion taking over and giving her body time to heal. She had hairline fractures in two ribs, extensive bruising to several others, a badly sprained ankle and a head injury that had given the doctors fits. It was a contusion, which meant the soft, sensitive tissues of the brain slammed violently against the inside of her skull, causing swelling. Dan knew at one point the doctors had considering drilling a hole in her skull to relieve the pressure. He was thankful it hadn’t come to that.
Then he’d been torn, trying to decide whether it was more dangerous for her to stay here or be moved. The two men in the Honda had gotten away somehow, and they were Mill out there. Jamie had been afraid they would come after her, even here. She’d be
en afraid to let anyone from the agency know she was here, possibly for the same reason.
She ended up remaining in the hospital for another day and a half while the doctors closely monitored her head injury. Even then, they didn’t want to let her go, despite the fact that her life might be in danger if she stayed. Dan and Josh had covered their tracks as best they could, through a network of old friends at the 911 emergency dispatch center, the ambulance service, the police force and at the hospital. Where they didn’t have friends, they fabricated a story that they hoped was plausible. They tried to convince everyone Jamie was in the federal witness protection program, that the people who’d hurt her this way were still after her. Finally, because Dan had sworn to have a doctor on the premises day and night, and a nurse watching over her, they agreed to release her.
Dan was able to get in touch with an old friend of Doc’s, someone Doc knew from Vietnam, who was flying a medevac helicopter for a hospital in the area. He took Jamie and Dan from the hospital in D.C. to the rehabilitation facility in Maryland where Dan had been staying.
It was more private than any hospital he knew, and it had on-site security and a medical staff on duty twenty-four hours a day. Dan hoped he was doing the right thing in taking her there.
He rode in the back of the helicopter beside her. Jamie slept most of the way, probably because of something the nurse shot into her IV a few minutes before they left the hospital.
It was almost noon by the time they arrived, later still when the doctor checked Jamie’s condition. Dan got Jamie settled into one of the private cabins on the heavily wooded grounds of the hospital, built for people who no longer needed immediate hospital care but had to have access to the extensive rehabilitation facilities there.
Dan didn’t plan to leave her side, but he had to sleep sometime, so he needed help with security, too. There were a half-dozen ex-military men among the private security team at the hospital, and Dan had enlisted the help of two of them. He set up his own security perimeter around the cabin, complete with trip wires and infrared sensors, and he was well armed.
That was it, he thought, making his way inside. He’d done all he knew he should do. Now they waited. Either Jamie knew who was responsible for this, and he and Josh would find that person, or that person would come after her.
Dangerous to Love Page 15
