Killian Read online

  She smiled and said, “Sleeper shorts. They’re perfect.” She grabbed the bag of clothes and shut the bathroom door in his face again.

  “I could help you, you know?” he said through the door.

  “Thanks anyway. I’ll be just fine.”

  He waited, a big grin on his face, until he saw Hatch staring at him, with a smirk on his. Immediately Killian dropped the smile and said, “Don’t even go there.”

  “Oh, I’ve already gone there,” he said. “Gone there and back a few times.”

  “I wouldn’t think about it at all. You don’t know anything.”

  “Nope, I don’t,” he said. “But, at the same time, I’m pretty happy with what I see.”

  Killian groaned and said, “Just forget it.” When she opened the door, he looked at her and said, “Okay, I can see how that works.”

  She smiled. “This should be good, for nighttime anyway.”

  “Okay, so let’s get you to the bed, so I can dress the wound.”

  She winced. “Is that really necessary?”

  He nodded. “Absolutely. We should have done it earlier, but the doc wanted it to dry and breathe a bit. Now that it’s dry, and you’re more or less as numb as you’ll be, we’ll bandage it up. That way, when you roll over in the night, you won’t catch those stitches in the bedding or the mattress and shriek from the pain.”

  “That sounds horrible already,” she said, staring at him.

  “Exactly, so let’s get you to the bed.”

  She hobbled to the bed, taking her time, and he let her. After her kidnapping ordeal, it was important for her to feel as independent as possible, and, when she finally got to the edge of the bed, she sank down heavily. “Okay, now I don’t feel so good,” she murmured.

  “A little too much independence?”

  “I don’t know, maybe just a little too much everything,” she said. She slowly flopped onto her back and lifted both legs onto the bed, until she was stretched out.

  “You should’ve let me take the bedding off first.” She groaned and then sat back up and slid off the bed. He pulled the bedding back, and she laid back down again. He brought over the bag of medical supplies that the doctor had left him and quickly put on clean gauze and wrapped the large wound, covering all the stitches on her leg. “Maybe that’ll help,” he said, as he flipped a sheet over the top of her.

  “Well, at least that’s not hurting anyway,” she said. Rolling over onto her good leg, she pulled the pillow underneath her head, yawned, and said, “I think I’m ready to sleep.”

  “You need your pain pills and an antibiotic yet,” he said. “Let me get some water.” He stepped into the bathroom, filled a glass of water, and came out with the pain pill bottle and shook out two, then added the antibiotic. He handed them to her, as she shifted up onto her elbow, popped them into her mouth, and drank down the glass of water.

  “That’s it, for me,” she said, pulling the sheet up a little higher.

  “Do you want a blanket too?”

  She shook her head. “Not at this point,” she said. “I’ll try it with just the sheet. It’s pretty warm in here.”

  “It’ll get colder,” he said. “But that’s up to you.”

  “Maybe in a bit,” she said. “If I can fall asleep like this, it’s all good.” With that, she drifted off.

  He cleaned up his mess and put the trash in the bathroom garbage, then walked back to the little kitchenette area, where he wasn’t surprised to see Hatch still eating. “Still hungry?”

  “A lot of work done today, and I haven’t had a ton of food.”

  “Now you sound like her,” he said.

  “It is what it is.”

  “So you say,” he said. “We need to stand watch tonight.”

  “Agreed. Way too much we don’t know yet,” Hatch said. “I’m still eating. You go crash.”

  “You sure?”

  “Absolutely,” he said.

  With that, Killian dropped onto the second bed, and closed his eyes. “Wake me if there’s anything.”

  “I will,” he said. “Do you need to check in?”

  “No checking in is required on this job. I can if I want to, but—”

  “Maybe there’s information.”

  “So check in then,” Killian said.

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Hell no,” he replied. “You’re supposed to be assisting me anyway.”

  “Is that what I’m supposed to be doing?” Hatch said, with a note of humor.

  “Yeah.”

  “What about the guy you’re tracking?” Hatch asked.

  At that, Killian sat back up. “Yeah, I don’t know what’s with that guy.”

  “Do you have him still in your tracker?”

  He shook his head. “No, it stopped back there at the getaway car.”

  “Like when we picked her up?”

  “By the time we got to the car, it had already stopped.”

  “Interesting. Sounds like he found the tracker and destroyed it,” he said. “Too bad we don’t have a clue where he went.”

  “I want to know what the hell he was doing,” Killian said. “When you think about it, he had absolutely no reason to be there at all.”

  “Unless he was connected somehow, and that’s possible. If that’s the case, then we need to figure out exactly what we’ll do about it.”

  “The only thing we can do,” he said, “is try to get a rundown on him. I already asked for the camera feeds to take a look for facial recognition hits.” Just then his phone buzzed. “What do you want to bet that’s Jerricho now.” He snatched his cell off the night table. After checking, he got up, walked back to the kitchen table, brought out his laptop, and signed into the secure chat. Any news?

  Nothing popped on facial recognition. Do you have any other details?

  No, his voice was a little on the raspy side, but I’m not sure if that was natural or deliberate. I couldn’t see his features very well at all.

  Distorted?

  He thought about it and shrugged. It’s possible. He had a cap pulled down, a beard, and wore a big hoodie, ruffled up around the neck.

  So, not a whole lot to see, like cheekbones or sunken eyes, because of the cap.

  Right. And the tracker isn’t working anymore, so it’s been removed, or it’s broken, or he’s out of range.

  All three are possible, right?

  Yeah, I don’t even know if he was anything other than an innocent bystander. I didn’t like his actions, and I went on instinct, and he was an ass when I asked for directions. The fact that he then showed up close to where we found her makes me doubly suspicious.

  Could be he followed you.

  No, he was ahead of me.

  Well, stay alert, Jerricho said. How’s she doing?

  I’m sure you’ve already talked to the doctor by now. She just fell asleep, and that’s exactly what she needs right now, a good rest.

  Yeah, and he sent me a picture of the leg, and I’m glad for that, so at least we have some idea of what we’re looking at. Hopefully she’ll heal enough to get moving soon.

  She’ll be fine in another day or so, Killian wrote. It’s just, after her entire experience, she probably needs a day or two to just chill and relax. It won’t hurt her in the least.

  Easy for you to say. She might have a different answer.

  Chapter 4

  Still mostly asleep, Stacey shifted, then snapped awake, crying out in pain.

  Almost immediately a hand gently landed on her shoulder, and a calm voice said, “You’re okay. Just relax.”

  “It hurts,” she whispered.

  “That’s because it’s time for your pain pills.”

  A soft light turned on beside her, and she saw Killian’s face above her. Instantly the memories came rushing back. “Oh, God,” she said. “I was hoping that was all just a bad nightmare.”

  “Well, the good news is,” he said, with a note of humor, “that the nightmare is over, and you have been re
scued.”

  “Right,” she said, giving her face a scrub. She sat up and cried out again. “Jesus, that hurts.” She stared down at her leg.

  “Well, that’s a lot of stitches, and it went untreated for several days, so the doc had to do quite a bit of trimming to get a clean and stable place to start from. The wound’s a bit on the rough side, but again, things are looking up because it’s been treated, and you’ll be fine.”

  “I remember that,” she said, with a slow nod, “though I don’t remember much else right now. My head’s kind of fuzzy.”

  “That could be a side effect of the medication too,” he said.

  He picked up two pill bottles, while she watched, and he handed three pills to her. With the glass of water on the night table she popped them back, grimacing as she swallowed them. “My throat is sore,” she said, then had some more water, sipping it carefully.

  “That’s from a lack of water for a while,” he said. “The membranes dry out and get raspy.”

  She nodded. “I was hoping when I woke up that I’d feel better, not worse.”

  “Reality has to set in. Your body has been through a trauma, and it has to heal. The human body is amazing, and, now that it has a chance, it will focus on healing. But the side effect of that is a very rough ride for you for a few days.”

  She threw back the sheet, frowned at the sight of the blood on top of the bandage, and said, “Does that need to be rebandaged?”

  He looked at it and nodded. “Yep, it sure does.”

  “Let me go pee first,” she said. “I think that’s what woke me up.”

  “As a kid, my bladder used to give me really terrible nightmares,” he said, “in order to make me wake up and not wet the bed.”

  “Yeah, I think mine is doing the same,” she said. “And that’s not a nightmare I want to be reminded of anytime soon.”

  “Of course not.”

  He helped her to her feet, and she hobbled to the bathroom, using the wall for support every step of the way. When she got there, she closed the door and used the facilities. By the time she got back up again, she was shaking. She felt a sheen of sweat on her back, neck, and face. She opened the door to let him in, and he motioned her toward the toilet.

  “Go ahead and sit back down and let’s get that leg taken care of.”

  With her bad leg stretched out in front of her, she sat gingerly and hung on to the side of the bowl, while he removed the bandage. Parts of it were sticking, so he ran a washcloth under the hot water and gently applied it to the gauze, softening the dried blood. With the bandage off and the light on, they both took a critical look at it.

  She shrugged. “It doesn’t look that bad.”

  “No, the doc did a great job sewing that up. I think maybe, while you were sleeping, you disturbed it.”

  “Great,” she said. “It’s not like that’s something I can prevent.”

  “No, you can’t. But let’s redo the dressing.” He took the washcloth and gently sponged off the injury, taking away as much dried blood as he could. When it was clean and dry, he bandaged it up again. By that time, she was weak, and her energy level had completely bottomed out. She felt the shakiness inside once again.

  He helped her back to the bed, covered her up again, and said, “Just sleep.”

  “If I can,” she whispered. “I would love to be knocked out right now.”

  “Well, you might be soon,” he said. “The drugs are pretty powerful, considering what you’ve been through.”

  She nodded and closed her eyes, but she trembled even more.

  With a muffled exclamation, he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms.

  “What’ll that do?” she asked, as her teeth chattered.

  “Well, added body heat for one,” he said. “But the shivering? It’s not because you’re cold. … It’s shock.”

  “If you say so,” she said, trying to burrow in deeper.

  He grabbed the blanket at the bottom of the bed, pulled it up over her, and just held Stacey close. It took a few minutes for the tremors to slow down.

  She yawned several times, feeling the furnace of his body heat around her. “I shouldn’t be cold,” she said. “There’s enough heat in this hotel room to keep me comfortable.”

  “Back to you’re injured, remember?” he murmured, gently rubbing her shoulders.

  She let out one heavy sigh and then another one, feeling some of the stress and the tension drop away again, as the drugs took over. When she woke up the second time, she was alone. She rolled over onto her back, gingerly feeling her leg move, stiff and almost unfamiliar. But the pain wasn’t screaming at her. She lay here for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling, trying to orient herself to where she was and to what had happened.

  Letting her head drop to the side, she saw Hatch sleeping soundly in the next bed and Killian sitting at the kitchen table.

  He looked at her, frowned, and walked to her bed. “It’s still really early,” he whispered. “It’s just going on six now.”

  She nodded. “I’ve always been an early riser,” she said. “So six is pretty normal.”

  “I was hoping you’d sleep quite a bit later,” he said, “and give your body that extra chance to heal.”

  “Well, my body has been waking up early for a very long time,” she said. “So we could hope, but I don’t think we’ll have much luck with that.”

  He asked, “Do you need a pain pill?”

  “It’s not bad at the moment,” she said cautiously. “But, if I move, I’m not sure. Depends on the bladder.”

  “Let me know how that goes and if you want to try to sleep.”

  She sat up in bed, scooting backward, and, when she sat next to the headboard, she sighed and nodded. “Definitely need a trip to the bathroom.” She got up and walked over slowly, happy that her leg was moving somewhat, but it was surprisingly stiff. “I wasn’t expecting the stiffness,” she murmured, when she came back out.

  “It’s the injury,” he said. “Everything stiffens up.”

  She nodded and made her way back to the bed and sat on the edge. “I’m not sure I can sleep anymore,” she confessed.

  “You want to come over here and sit down?”

  “Maybe,” she murmured. She made her way around the sleeping Hatch and sat on the kitchen chair across from Killian. She took a long slow deep breath and said, “Well, that wasn’t too-too bad.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re still heading for your pain pill and the antibiotic.”

  She winced. “I really don’t like taking drugs.”

  “If you want to skip a pain pill, okay. But here’s the thing,” he said. “There are times to be worried about medications and times not to. With a gash the size of that wound on your leg—and it’s still oozing blood—we want to make sure there’s no infection, so we can get you moving toward home. So don’t miss any of the antibiotics.”

  “Well, that’s guaranteed to make me behave,” she said. “I just want to go home.”

  “And we’ll get you there,” he said, “but not until you’re well enough to travel.”

  “This isn’t that bad.”

  “No, but we’ve got to take care of it, or it could get bad in a hurry,” he said. He reached for his phone and texted something, while she watched.

  “What was that all about?”

  He looked up, smiled, and said, “I thought you might like some coffee.”

  Her gaze widened. “I would absolutely love a coffee,” she said. “And a shower.”

  “Nope on the shower,” he said. “Unless you’re okay with me coming in and helping.”

  “It would almost be worth it,” she said, with a grimace. “I feel pretty rough.”

  “You might,” he said, “but you’re not capable of standing that long, and the last thing we need is for you to slip and fall and reinjure yourself. You’ll get very tired while you’re in there, and there’s no seat in that shower,” he said, his gaze assessing. “I’m all fo
r helping you, if you want to give it a shot, but no modesty allowed.”

  She snorted at that. “I hear you. Maybe a little bit later,” she said. “I’m already not feeling all that great.”

  “Exactly. I figure you’ll manage a single cup of coffee, and then you’ll probably crash again.”

  She gave him a lopsided smile. “I’m not sure that’s a bad thing at the moment. And I’ll only manage that coffee if it comes pretty quick.”

  Just then came a series of raps on the door.

  She froze, but he seemed completely unconcerned. “I gather that’s the coffee?” she asked hopefully.

  “Should be.” He opened the door and proceeded to pull the trolley inside.

  “Wow,” she said. “I didn’t think this hotel would give this kind of service.”

  “It doesn’t,” he said, with a bright grin, “but we tend to arrange for over-and-above service, as we need it.”

  “Nice deal if you can get it,” she murmured.

  He smiled, as he pushed the cart toward her.

  “Do we want to wake up Hatch?”

  “No. It’s almost time for him to wake up anyway,” he said. “But he’s lacking on sleep, so I wanted to give him a little longer.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I guess, in your business, it’s important to catch sleep when you can, isn’t it?”

  “Not only is it important to catch sleep,” he said, “but you just never really know when you’ll need that energy boost that comes from being well rested.”

  “I can imagine,” she said. “I know when I was panicked, I had lots of energy. I wasn’t expecting that either, but I didn’t really think about it at the time.”

  “When you panic, you don’t think—that’s the thing. Your body just reacts, and it pounds out whatever you need of it, as long as it can, and then you hit the end of the wall, where it can’t do any more,” he said. He lifted the coffeepot and poured her a cup. Then he nudged the cream and sugar toward her.

  She shook her head. “Just black for me, please.”

  He nodded and filled his own cup.

  When he lifted the lid off another platter, she smiled. “Cinnamon buns, at this hour?”