We All Sleep Alone

by Calle J. Brookes

  The TSP detective that was such a thorn in his side was the uncle of the woman Jennifer hated so passionately. That would inevitably lead to problems.

  He was going to have to keep a close hand on Jennifer.

  Before she did anything else to totally mess up everything Kyle had built in her moments of stupidity.

  “Just…keep yourself out of trouble. I’ll handle everything else.”

  “Including the MacNamaras?”

  “Yes. Including them. I’ll take care of everything for you. Don’t I always?”

  Jennifer wrapped her arms around him and clung.

  62

  Nikkie Jean was working when a tall, dark-haired, dark-eyed, gorgeous man walked into the ER. Next to the chief of the TSP.

  It wasn’t her fiancé. Nor was it his clone.

  No.

  Jake MacNamara was just as pretty in a fully masculine sense.

  Well, almost. Her fiancé Caine was always going to be the most beautiful man on the planet. His identical twin Rafe came in a close second. Followed by Allen. Then Jake.

  Nikkie Jean may have been responsible for starting the Top Ten at FCGH meme floating around. Her and Jillian.

  The blood wasn’t welcome, though. Nikkie Jean was already moving toward them. “Jake? What happened?”

  “GSW.” He clutched his hand to his upper shoulder, but he was on his feet. “Chief took one to the left arm. His is worse. May be still in there.”

  Another GSW. In a city of fifty-five thousand. That seemed…far too unrealistic to her. What it meant for her adopted city scared her, too. “It almost doesn’t seem realistic.”

  “What doesn’t?”

  “Why are so many bullets flying in such a small city? Answer me that, Mr. Policeman.”

  His eyes darkened, now the same shade as his niece’s. “I don’t know. I’m working to find out. I will too, kid.”

  Kid? She shot him a look. She was thirty—and he was no older than her fiancé. Still, Jake had what was known as an old soul. He would have been right at home in 1953, with some of his attitudes. It was no wonder he drove his niece insane sometimes. “I know.”

  She guided him into the exam room while Lacy took over caring for Elliot Marshall. Elliot and Lacy were good friends—and cousins by marriage. “Has anyone called Gabby yet?”

  Jake shook his head as Jillian went to work on Jake’s ruined shirt. “It just happened when we were on our way to W4HAV to see where Izzie was almost abducted.”

  She shivered instinctively.

  She’d had nightmares again. Nightmares where she lost her best friend.

  “Someone’s serious, aren’t they?” He’d need checked to make certain there weren’t fragments in the wound. “Let’s get to this.”

  She took a few moments to take an actual break while Jake was getting the necessary pretty pictures taken. Nikkie Jean needed it. She’d been the first one to offer to take Allen’s shift in the ER. She knew he’d worry about the hospital.

  He took his duties as head of trauma very seriously.

  Worry was a sharp pain in her heart, and Nikkie Jean knew it probably would be until Izzie and Allen were back in Finley Creek—safe where they both belonged.

  At least Izzie wasn’t facing this alone.

  After Caine and Rafe, Allen was the one man on the planet Nikkie Jean trusted. He wouldn’t let anything happen to Izzie. Not if he could prevent it.

  She half thought a part of Izzie knew that, too.

  She had just devoured her second pudding cup—Baby Alien Alvaro loved chocolate pudding, and Rafe had agreed to see to it that the cafeteria stocked it indefinitely—when her cell rang.

  With a number she didn’t recognize.

  Always cautious, she answered slowly. “Hello?”

  When she heard the voice on the other end of the line, relief slammed into her. Talk about timing. This was exactly who she needed to talk to right now. “Are you both ok?”

  63

  Fear had Izzie nearly sick to her stomach as she disconnected the short call she’d made. Nikkie Jean had made it clear Izzie wasn’t going back to Finley Creek anytime soon.

  Not after what had happened in Finley Creek after Allen had absconded with her.

  Jake could have been killed.

  Had Elliot Marshall not been with him, he would have been.

  Gabby, Elliot’s wife, was beside herself, freaking out. Nikkie Jean said the chief had had her and her sister’s family sent off with Mel Barratt the night before. Mel, who had a dozen bodyguards. Armed ones.

  Jake could have died. Ambushed. Him and the chief of the TSP.

  Nikkie Jean had not given Izzie too many details, but Jake was going to be sore for a while. Nikkie Jean had made that very clear.

  He had gotten very, very lucky.

  How serious a situation she was in had started to sink in. How out of control of her own life she was terrified her.

  Her only port in the storm was Allen.

  He was looking at her, at the disposable phone he’d given her after she’d threatened to walk off to call Nikkie Jean shortly after she’d forced him to let her shower off in the wet bath. He hadn’t even bothered to argue; just handed her a phone he’d already activated, then stood over her, with those muscled arms crossed over his chest while she dialed. Talked.

  She stared at him while she spoke.

  He’d purchased four disposable phones at a gas station while she slept in the passenger seat the night before, apparently. He’d grabbed phones, gassed up the van, procured them drinks and breakfast and toilet paper, of all things. While she’d been sound asleep and vulnerable in a damned parking lot. Then he’d moved them to another parking lot three hours away.

  He told her to take a pain pill and sleep. To trust him to handle anything else that came.

  The man was currently more in control of her life than she was.

  She hadn’t been in true control of her life since nine days after the tornado.

  Well, that wasn’t going to happen any longer. Because it would be inevitable—eventually she’d be on her own again. Trying to deal with the world on her own. Allen had a life he’d want to get back to as soon as he possibly could.

  They both did. Allen had no reason to stick around for her. Maybe he was for now because he seemed to adore Nikkie Jean, but that was weak.

  She was discounting the kiss he’d given her before she’d slept. It had been his way of disconcerting her. Messing with her head. Because he was a jerk that way. And thought he was God’s gift to doofy overly sex-crazed female nurses everywhere.

  He did have a reputation, after all.

  “Bad news?” he asked quietly.

  She nodded, biting back a sob that wanted to escape. “Jake…someone shot him and Elliot an hour ago.”

  He tensed. “They both ok?”

  “Yes. Flesh wounds, Nikkie Jean said. She is at the hospital, taking your shift.”

  She wanted to talk to her uncle for herself.

  Izzie couldn’t. She had to keep going, with the man next to her.

  Izzie firmed her chin and looked at him. She wiped her eyes and pulled in a breath. She couldn’t fall apart right now. That wouldn’t help either of them. “This is real. It’s not going away for a while. I…thank you for what you did, but—”

  He stepped closer, easy to do in the van. He’d opened the pop-up top to give himself some head room and to take advantage of the breeze. She could still hear the interstate traffic nearby. How invisible and anonymous they were sank in.

  No one in the world knew exactly where they were right now.

  If the men who had attacked her found them, she and Allen could disappear off the face of the earth altogether.

  That terrified her. She would be the first to admit it. Talk about having only one port in the storm. This man was hers. Whether she liked it or not.

  He kept moving closer, taking up too much space.

  How big he was struck her again. For a crazy moment, she half t
hought he could keep the entire world at bay if he wanted.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Get that in your head. I spoke with Rafe. My position with the hospital is secure as long as I need it to be. That was never any question. Even if it isn’t, Caine has offered me the assistant COM position at Barratt County. Whenever I want it. He’s not the first hospital or medical group to make me offers. I’ve been headhunted since I was still in med school, competing with Rafe. I’m not the least concerned.”

  “You have a life in Finley Creek. Friends. Family.” Lovers. He had to have at least one lover somewhere. A man like him would have multiple lovers somewhere. She knew for a fact that he’d dated at least six women from the hospital and had been sniffing around Rafe’s new wife, Jillian, long before Jess had gotten her hooks into him.

  The way the rumor mill went on, he’d made it through half the nurses on first shift by that point. That had to be an exaggeration, but where there was smoke, there was usually fire.

  He’d probably made it through a quarter of the doofier first-shift nurses. Jerk. “I—”

  “Shut up, Izadora.” His hands wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her closer. Close enough that he could loom over her and show her that he was bigger and in charge. He was almost gentle about it. His hands scorched her, though. “Be quiet and listen.”

  Izzie wanted to fight, to squirm her way free, but she knew that was exactly what he expected. In the last day and a half, she’d learned a lot about her companion, even though she’d slept most of that time away.

  She forced herself to stay still and looked up into his eyes. “What? Just spill it, Jacobson.”

  “I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone. Get that out of your head. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m not leaving you behind. No matter what.”

  His words had come more fiercely than she expected. Like he meant it. Like he had no intention of abandoning her to face anything alone.

  Well. That was a first. The only man who had ever stuck by her had been Jake. “Why? You…aren’t exactly fond of me. We both know that.”

  “That is so far from the truth.” He’d leaned down and whispered it near her ear. Oh boy. Maybe she needed to do some evaluating here. “Not in the entire time I’ve known you.”

  “Bull-oney. You didn’t even remember my name until two months ago. It took a tornado for you to remember what my name is, and we both know that. I’ve worked at FCGH for four years. Never once did you call me Izzie. Until after the storm.”

  “I knew your name well over two months ago.”

  “Liar. Try again, Jacobson. Not that it matters to me.” She almost said something about Logan Lanning, but she stopped. Not with how close he had been to that family. Even in a verbal sparring match like this, there were rules. Things she wouldn’t say to hurt someone. He’d loved Lanning just as much as she loved Annie. Izzie wasn’t about to rub salt into that particular wound. That had all the fight going right out of her. “I don’t know what to do.”

  It was the first time she’d ever admitted vulnerability to him. Before, she would have gnawed off her own leg to avoid doing that.

  His hands shifted, slipping around her back. Before she knew it, Izzie was pulled tight against his hard chest and his face was buried in her hair. His hands stayed in PG territory, but it felt like so much more. Yes, she was going to do some thinking about this as soon as she could.

  “It’s going to be ok.”

  She didn’t remember the last time someone had told her that. Not since Nikkie Jean the day Wallace Henedy had nearly killed her.

  That day was hard to forget.

  Her arms—casts and all—slipped around his waist, and she clung to him. She needed strength for a little bit. Something familiar. That wasn’t so wrong. “We need to come up with a plan. I’m not good without an idea of what I’m supposed to be doing. It’s kind of my thing. Details, plans, schedules. I just…need to know where I’m supposed to be at all times. Parking in a Cracker Barrel parking lot and sleeping the day away horrifies me. It’s just so…random. I’m the one who makes the ER schedule for Wanda every week. I like that stuff.”

  She’d always been a planner. She’d had her life planned well in advance from about the age of nine. It was how she’d survived with her mother. Knowing what her goals were had helped her get through every crappy thing that was going on in her life at the time.

  It was her coping mechanism, and she absolutely knew it. She really needed a coping mechanism right now. Otherwise, she was going to wrap herself around Allen like an octopus and say to hell with every shred of dignity she’d ever possessed.

  Her uncle had almost been killed while she was whiling away hours sleeping in a van. With Allen watching over her and providing everything she needed.

  It was kind of hard for her to forget that.

  “First? We need clothes. Supplies. More than what we’ve got. There’s a store across the street. I’m going to get food from the store. Nikkie Jean made it very clear you have several food allergies.” He shifted a clear bag of medications that was on the counter beside him. An epinephrine pen was prominent on top.

  She’d lost her bag somewhere in the attack. Damn it. She’d have to replace her credit cards, ID, everything. That hadn’t even occurred to her yesterday.

  Her head was a lot clearer now. Concussions could be so damned tricky.

  “Eggs and nuts. Anaphylactic. Sensitive to dairy and soy, so I’d rather avoid large quantities of those.”

  “Got it. Anything you absolutely have to have?”

  “Fresh fruit, but not grapefruit or kiwi. I can’t stand either. I get hives from anything in the melon family.” It sounded so weird. So…boring and normal. She almost snorted. Izzie had had enough excitement in her life for a long, long while. “I’m not too picky. I…can cook. Even with one hand. I’ve been cooking for Jake and me for years.”

  “You’ve always lived together?”

  “Since I was fourteen and he was twenty-five. I did live in an apartment with Annie for a while, until she had to move back in with her mother to take care of the boys.” Izzie had never lived alone, though there were many nights when Jake’s job kept him gone. Even for weeks, sometimes, as he was sent around the state a lot. Izzie usually worked extra overtime those weeks, so she didn’t have to sit at home alone. Or take a shift at the Boethe Street community center or W4HAV. Or she’d hang out with Annie and the boys, and Nikkie Jean when they could. They were her family, and right now, she missed them with every part of her being.

  “I had Shelby with me for a few years from when she was fifteen and I was twenty-five until she graduated. She stayed with me during her college years, too.”

  She’d heard Nikkie Jean mention his sister but hadn’t paid much attention to the gossip about him specifically. “Your parents?”

  “They were on a cruise and had docked for a day. Their tour boat capsized; ten years ago next month.”

  The man was as alone as she was. She had Jake, and she had Annie and Nikkie Jean and now their families.

  “Get some chocolate, Jacobson. We both know we need chocolate. Nut, dairy, soy, and egg-free, please.”

  “I’ll do that. If it exists.”

  Izzie lifted one of the blinds and looked around the parking lot.

  “I…there’s a secondhand shop next to the craft store. I can grab some clothes there. We can meet back here in an hour or so?”

  He hesitated. “I don’t want you on camera anywhere. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’ll wear that ball cap and the sweatshirt. I’ll be careful. But…I’m not going to hide away while you protect me.” On that, she was one hundred percent adamant. “I appreciate you helping me right now—I really do, even if I haven’t said it yet—but I need an equal say and an equal part. We plan this out a bit more. I need that. Equal say. The sooner we get the things we’ll need for this adventure, the sooner we get further away from Finley Creek.”

  His fingers cupped the side of her hea
d. Then, swift as a damned leopard, he swooped down and kissed her. Hot and quick. Right on her lips. Izzie almost squawked. He pulled back and shot her a look filled with heat.

  “Get me some things.” He listed his sizes quickly. “Keep that phone close. I programmed mine into speed dial.”

  “Let’s do this, then. If we’re going to do this, we might as well do it right.”

  “Deal. Be careful. Keep the hat on. Be careful of your cast.”

  “I’ll do that. You do the same.”

  He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket. “These were Linda’s keys. Get what you are getting, then get back inside and lock the doors. We’ll leave as soon as we get back.”

  She nodded.

  He left first.

  She waited a few minutes until the parking lot was a little less populated—a tour bus was leaving the restaurant they were next to—and spent that time poking around the RV, making a mental list.

  For some reason, leaving without him felt weird. Wrong, somehow. Because of her fear. Allen was fast becoming her security blanket. He’d been there every single time she’d woke yesterday. It had taken her almost the full day just to sleep off the headache. He’d been there, ready to get her anything she needed.

  This really did have to be a dream. One with a slightly erotic undertone.

  That was something she wasn’t even going to think about. Even though she still had the taste of him on her lips.

  Damn it. Whoever had written this little adventure novel she and Allen were now in needed a swift kick in the ass for this. There had better be a massive pay-off in the end.

  Too bad this wasn’t fiction. With fiction, she could control the happy ending. One reason she liked writing books when no one was around.

  With Jake gone so much, she’d had a lot of time to develop that habit.

  She liked being in control of her characters.

  Now…now, she didn’t feel in control of anything at all.

  Especially her own life.