“Drop it. Now!” The voice was weak, but the tone was deadly serious.
Tate’s gaze jerked up to where Sabrina stood, swaying on her feet, blood dripping from her face. Paul’s gun shook in her hands, but she had it angled well, lined up with Paul’s face through the gap behind Tate.
Paul’s gaze darted from her to Kevin and back again.
Tate took advantage of his momentary distraction to launch sideways, using his weight on Paul’s arm as he grabbed the man’s wrist and twisted.
Paul yelped, his muscles engaging too late as the knife clattered to the ground.
Tate kicked it aside and pushed to his feet.
Then his colleagues rushed the room, and Tate told Sitka, “Let go!”
She opened her jaw and dropped Paul’s arm, then moved out of the way, letting the other officers do their jobs.
Tate could only stare at Sabrina. She’d dropped her arm to the side, but she still held the weapon. She stared back at him through badly swollen eyes, and a wave of intense relief and residual terror and realization washed over him.
She was alive.
She blinked a few times, then the gun clattered to the floor, and she collapsed.
Rushing forward, Tate caught her before she landed. His arm gave out, and he slid to his knees, trying to take her weight.
“Get an ambulance.” The chief’s voice rang in Tate’s ears as he fumbled to see Sabrina’s face, to check her breathing.
Arm shaking, he managed to get a hand on her neck and feel for a pulse. Tears rushed to his eyes when he found one.
Then the chief warned him not to move her. “She probably has internal bleeding. We’ll get the medevac.”
They were closer to Luna and the hospital than they would have been back in Desparre, but they were deep in the woods, in the bowels of an old fort. A helicopter couldn’t land here.
Fear once again gripped him. Had he gotten to her in time, only to lose her anyway?
Chapter Twenty-Four
It had been almost thirty-six hours since Kevin had been declared dead at the scene and Paul had been taken into custody. Not only had the Desparre police defused the bomb he’d built, but apparently the secondary device Njeri had spotted was something Paul had trained on only the month before. They were already building a rock-solid case against him. The chief thought maybe this time they’d dig deep enough to find the money they hadn’t located the first time around. Paul was unlikely to ever again step outside a prison.
Tate blinked at his watch, then rubbed sleep from his eyes and leaned over to pet Sitka, who was snoring on the hospital floor. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be here, but she was a police K-9, so they’d made an exception.
His left arm ached at the movement, but it was dulled by the painkillers they’d given him after they’d stitched him up. The bullet had passed through the muscle in his biceps and gone out the other side. He’d need physical therapy, just like last time, but he would recover. And the plastic surgeon who’d closed up the cut on his face had told him he probably wouldn’t have a scar.
In the hospital bed, Sabrina twitched and then let out a whimper in her sleep.
He leaned toward her from the chair the hospital staff had pulled in, along with coffee for him and a bowl of water for Sitka. Once they’d gotten Sabrina into a room, he hadn’t left her side.
But she still hadn’t woken up. As soon as she’d arrived at the hospital, doctors had rushed her in for CT scans of her brain, facial bones, neck, abdomen and pelvis. She’d been wheeled away from him, looking small and battered and helpless in that hospital bed, a far cry from the determined woman who’d stood, blood-covered and swaying, and saved his life.
At the time, overhearing snippets of the doctors’ conversations, phrases like check for a fractured skull and could have an intracranial hemorrhage had terrified him. They’d gotten him stitched up only by assuring him they’d tell him if there were any changes to or any news on Sabrina’s condition.
Hours later, they’d told him either she was very lucky or her assailants had known exactly how to hit to cause a lot of visual damage but not to kill her. They said she had a couple of fractured ribs that luckily hadn’t punctured her lungs. But she had a lung contusion that would need pain management. Amazingly, despite the massive swelling and bleeding on her face, she hadn’t broken any of the bones there. But she did have a brain contusion. The doctors had called it minor, said the microbleed would require a longer stay in the hospital. It was also what was keeping her unconscious.
She was medicated, needed time to heal, but every moment her eyes stayed closed made him more anxious. Her doctors planned to keep her in the hospital for at least a week but said she would most likely make a full recovery within six months. But most likely wasn’t good enough.
Somehow, in the time he’d spent with her at her hotel room and pretending to be her boyfriend, he’d fallen for her for real. Or maybe it had happened long before that, when she’d first come to the police station asking for help. Or even before that, when he’d run into her in town and felt an instant connection he wanted to pursue.
“Tate.”
The whisper came from the doorway of Sabrina’s room. After giving her one more glance to be sure she wasn’t waking, Tate forced himself to his feet. His whole body ached as he hobbled toward his chief.
“How’s she doing?”
“Nothing new,” Tate told him. His fellow officers hadn’t left the hospital until a few hours ago, exhausted. Luna police had taken over, stationing an officer at each of the two hospital entrances to protect both him and Sabrina. At this point, they all assumed Adam had left, that finding him would become a longer-term investigation. But they weren’t taking any chances.
Tate hadn’t realized his chief had stayed.
“I’ve got an update on Charlie.”
Worry clamped down on his chest until the chief said, “The surgery was a success. They stopped the internal bleeding. He’s got a lot of healing ahead, but he’s going to make it.”
Tate let out a relieved breath.
“And so are you.”
When Tate shook his head, not understanding, the chief said, “The two of us have a lot of paperwork ahead, getting your personnel file in order. And there’s a suspension in your future because I can’t just pretend this didn’t happen. But obviously, the threat against you was real. So, I’m willing to accept that you did what you had to do.”
Relief loosened the tension he hadn’t even realized he’d felt underneath his worry for Sabrina. “Thank you.”
“You’re a good officer, Tate. We want to keep you.” He held out his hand as Sitka jerked upright, then ran over.
Tate shook his hand, then the chief bent over and petted Sitka. “You, too. You make one hell of a K-9 unit.”
She gave the chief’s arm a slobbery kiss, and he smiled, then stood.
He turned to leave, then twisted back toward Tate. “Don’t give up,” he advised, nodding toward Sabrina.
“Doctors said—”
“I know what the doctors said,” the chief interrupted. “I’m talking about you. Don’t give up on her. Believe me when I say I know what I’m talking about.” Something wistful and sad flashed over his face as he said, “This kind of connection doesn’t come around often. When you find it, hang on as long as you can.”
“Thanks,” Tate replied when he finally found his voice. By then, the chief was already striding away.
He glanced down at Sitka, who looked from him to Sabrina.
Tate’s gaze followed, then he jerked in surprise. Her eyes were open, staring at him. She looked groggy, but far more aware than he would have expected after all she’d been through.
Rushing back into the room, with Sitka keeping pace, he carefully took hold of her hand. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a couple of assh
oles beat me up,” she rasped.
Relief made his laughter come out sounding like a half sob. He stroked his thumb over the skin on her hand, mottled purple with bruises. “You’re going to be fine.”
The words seemed to reassure her, but her eyes closed again. They didn’t open again for several long minutes. When they finally did, a nurse came in and listened to her heartbeat, then checked her pupils and helped her sit.
She gave Sabrina some water, then patted her arm, above where Tate still held her hand. “I know you don’t feel so great now, but you’ll be all right. You press your call button if you need me, okay?”
When Sabrina gave a shaky nod, looking a lot more alert, the nurse smiled at both of them, then left them alone.
Sabrina stared at the open doorway for a long moment. Then her lips pursed, lines forming between her eyes as she turned back to him, her expression one of wariness and distrust. “Who were they? Why were they trying to get back at you?” Her tone turned accusatory as she demanded, “And why did they call you Tate Donnoly?”
“I’m sorry.” His voice came out barely more than a whisper, so he cleared his throat and tried again. “I’m sorry.” He gave her the short version of the attempt on his life and his subsequent name change and return to Alaska.
Her gaze shifted to Sitka. “You didn’t grow up in the Midwest.” She looked back at him. “You grew up in Sitka, Alaska, didn’t you?”
His dog let out a soft woof, then laid her head on the edge of Sabrina’s hospital bed.
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
“I had to. I was trying to keep you safe. I was trying to keep everyone safe. I swear to you, Sabrina, I thought that article had gone unnoticed. Just in case, I was planning to leave after I helped you find your stalker. If I thought there was an immediate threat, I never would have—”
“You dug into my life without my permission,” she cut him off. “And I get it. You did it to help me. But I told you everything afterward. I was really honest with you. Not just about what happened but about my life. About my family and my friends and who I really am. The whole time you were lying to me.”
He clamped his lips shut as she spoke, letting her talk. But then he couldn’t keep quiet anymore. “I tried to be honest with you.”
She let out a huff. “When?”
“With everything. I told you more about myself than I’ve shared with anyone since I left Boston. Yes, I hid some of the small details that I thought were dangerous for you to know—like the fact that I used to be a cop in Boston, that I’d grown up in Alaska. But the rest of it? All the things I shared with you about my family and my dreams for my life? That was all true.”
“The things you left out weren’t small details,” Sabrina said, her voice too calm now, like she was tired of it all. Tired of him. “You hid pretty important pieces of yourself. Including a threat. And I paid for it.”
“I know.” He slid his hand over hers, and she frowned, pulling her hand free.
Dread built up, the fear that he’d messed up so badly there was no coming back from it. But the chief was right. He had to try.
“I’m so sorry, Sabrina. I can’t take that back. If I had suspected what would happen, I would have left.”
She flinched a little at that, and it gave him hope.
He leaned closer and stared into her eyes, hoping she could see the truth there. “I love you, Sabrina.”
Her lips parted as she stared back at him. Then tears welled up, and she blinked them away. Her voice was a whisper when she said, “I don’t think I can forgive you.”
* * *
SABRINA WOKE WITH a start, her heart thundering in her chest, her head and ribs aching. She blinked, trying to get her bearings.
She was in a dark hospital room. Not a hidden concrete fort, trapped in by crooked cops, thinking her only option was how she might die. By bullet, beating or bomb.
Taking a deep breath, she glanced around. Tate was asleep in a chair across from her bed. When she strained, she spotted Sitka sprawled at his feet, lightly snoring.
She didn’t remember drifting off to sleep again, but the stiffness in her body that turned into sharp pain at any movement, told her it might have been a while. She did remember the doctor coming in, giving her a whole lot of medical speak that had made her head spin, then summing up with “You’ll be okay. Your brain and your ribs need time to heal, but you’ll get there.”
Then she’d been alone with Tate again, struggling to figure out what else to say. He’d told her he loved her. But it didn’t matter how she felt in return, not if she couldn’t trust him.
He’d hidden his past from her. Hidden the threats against him. After she’d spent two years running from a stalker, he should have known how much of a difference the right information could make. Instead, he’d left her in the dark, clueless about the additional danger she faced.
Her fists clenched, and the movement tugged on her IV, stinging. But the pain was a welcome distraction from her building anger.
If he’d been totally honest with her, maybe she wouldn’t have done anything different. Maybe she would have felt the same way he had about the likelihood of his past coming to get her. But at least then she wouldn’t have this sense of betrayal that hurt worse than all of her injuries combined.
She loved him.
The realization hit with the force of one of the punches she’d taken to the head. She huffed out a humorless laugh, and her chest started to ache.
How hadn’t she realized it earlier? Of course she’d fallen in love with Tate, no matter his last name. He was sweet and smart and funny, and all the struggles of the past few years had seemed lighter when she was with him.
When Jessamyn had joked that maybe she’d meet her soul mate in that bar two and a half years ago and Sabrina had rolled her eyes, she’d thought about how her married friends liked to tell her that when she met the right one she’d just know. Adam had spotted her in that bar, begun his unnatural obsession that had led her to Desparre. That had led her to Tate. And now, suddenly, she knew.
But did that matter if she couldn’t trust him?
Squeezing her eyes closed, she tried to imagine going home and never seeing him again. The idea was painful, and she didn’t want to face it. When she opened her eyes again, a silhouette in the open doorway made her jump.
She almost didn’t recognize him, with his hair dyed darker, the glasses, and the hospital scrubs. Obviously the Luna cops watching the entrances hadn’t recognized him. But when he stepped inside, there was no doubt.
Fear mingled with a deep sense of betrayal. Adam had spent more than two years destroying her life, then convinced her to see him as a friend.
Adam smiled with a darkness in his eyes as he put a finger to his lips. Then he twisted toward Tate, his expression shifting into a possessive fury. His arm twitched, drawing her attention to what he held. A gun.
Sabrina’s gaze went from him to Tate, asleep on the chair.
She didn’t think. She just leaped.
The IV ripped out of her hand, and her bruised ribs set off a ferocious, searing pain that nauseated her. Her head jostled, and it felt as if her brain was bouncing inside her skull.
Then everything seemed to happen at once.
She smashed into Adam, propelling him back and pushing the gun sideways. Adam’s gaze locked on hers, a mix of jealous rage and sinister intent that sent goose bumps across her neck. Then his hands shifted, ready to shove her back.
Before he could move, Tate jumped out of his seat, awakened by the noise. He knocked over his chair as he pushed his way between them, smashing Adam’s gun hand into the wall, and making him drop the weapon.
Then somehow, Sitka was there, pressed up against her when she might have swayed and fallen.
Tate spun Adam face-first into the wall, yanked handcuffs off his
belt and slapped them on as nurses and doctors rushed toward them and Tate told them to call for backup.
“She’s mine,” Adam snarled, trying to twist out of Tate’s grip.
Tate pushed him back into the wall as he turned his head to look at her. “You okay?”
She stared back at him, at the intense protectiveness in his eyes, at the love she could see there.
The love she felt in return made her chest ache, made the words want to burst free.
Instead, she managed to nod as tears filled her eyes. She gave him a shaky smile to reassure him she really was okay and that she hadn’t reinjured herself badly.
When Sitka whined, Sabrina stroked her fur, still staring at Tate. She didn’t take her gaze off him, even when a pair of officers rushed into the room and pulled Adam away.
It was over.
After two long years of running and hiding and thinking she’d never have her life back, they’d caught her stalker. She could go home, return to the life she’d made for herself there.
So, why did her chest suddenly ache so badly over all the things she was giving up in Alaska?
Epilogue
Sabrina pulled back the curtains on her living room window, exposing the glorious view she’d fallen in love with the moment she’d stepped foot in this cabin.
She took a deep breath, smiling when her ribs gave only a slight twinge in protest. She’d spent a full week in the hospital, while doctors gave her medication to help her manage the pain and tests to check her neurological state. Then they’d declared the small bleed in her head healed enough to release her.
For the next three months at least, they’d told her to expect her symptoms to persist. Ringing in her ears maybe or some dizziness or just not feeling quite right. They wanted her to have regular follow-ups with a neurologist back in New York. But they’d cleared her to travel.
Her bags were already packed. She’d left New York two years ago with a trunk full of belongings. She was returning with two duffel bags.
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