Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  The doctor absorbed her impatience with a smile. If anything, that smile angered her worse than ever because it made her feel patronized. He might as well have patted her on the head and offered her a cookie for being a good girl.

  “It certainly seems like you’re feeling better,” he observed.

  She bit back a snarl of frustration. “I am, thank you. And I have a lot to do. I have employees, a business. I can’t conduct business from a hospital bed, even with email and such.”

  “Understood.” There was that smile again, just as understanding and patronizing as ever. It was enough to make her want to scream. People only thought they understood in situations like this. It didn’t matter how many patients this doctor had seen. That didn’t mean he understood her. And judging by his advanced age, he’d seen more than his fair share.

  How many patients had been accosted by so-called security personnel? How many of them had ideas planted in their heads, ideas involving some bigger picture threat? How many of them felt victimized all over again?

  That was what bothered her worst of all.

  Until this point in her life, she’d been able to use her smarts to get her by—logic, reason, and a razor-sharp memory. They were her weapons. They were the armor she used to defend herself against a cruel world where parents died too young and kids were left without anyone to defend them.

  How was she supposed to use them to defend herself against this?

  The doctor looked over her chart. Was it a good thing or bad thing, his stern expression? She held her breath, willing herself not to say anything that would offend him or paint her as a difficult patient.

  The lift of his shoulders seemed promising before he looked up from the chart, meeting her gaze over the rims of his glasses. “I don’t see any reason why we have to keep you here.”

  She could finally exhale. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who seems to be doing so well. You don’t have any indication here of lingering complications—though I would advise you to take it easy for the next several days. You’ve been through a trauma.”

  It was all she could do not to visibly wave this off or to snicker dismissively. Instead, she nodded slowly. “I understand.”

  “Will you take my advice?”

  “As much as I can,” she offered with a shrug. “Like I said, I have a business to run and employees to take care of. There’s only so much I can do.”

  “Even so, you have to find a way. Do what you can. You might find yourself in the middle of something that ordinarily wouldn’t take much physical or mental effort and suddenly find yourself unable to continue. I mean it,” he insisted when she sighed. “No one wants to believe they’re vulnerable after a situation like this, and ordinarily, it feels as though jumping back into work is the best therapy. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard that from my patients, but I’m telling you, you need time to process everything that’s going on. Be kind to yourself. That’s all I ask.”

  “All right. I’ll do my best. I promise.” Anything just to get out of this hospital. Once she was home, she could get her thoughts in order. She might be able to make sense of things.

  “Will you be accepting a ride home from your friend?” he asked out of nowhere. The suddenness of the question took her breath away since immediately her thoughts went to Beth. Beth was the only friend involved in the situation. Who else would he be talking about?

  And for a second, just the briefest moment, she went cold inside like her blood had turned to ice or like somebody had dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. Her stomach dropped like she was on a roller coaster, and her mouth went dry.

  “My friend?” she breathed, fighting back a wave of nausea that threatened to overtake her. If she lost in front of this doctor who’d only just agreed to let her go home, he might decide to make her stay.

  He tilted his head to the side, studying her. “The big guy. The one who’s been there since you were brought in. He hasn’t gone home yet. I assumed…”

  Oh, terrific. “He’s not my friend,” she was quick to correct, but guilt caught her unaware the second she spoke. He might not have been a friend, but he’d stopped to check on her and Beth. He’d made sure the paramedics came. There was something to be said for that, even if he was an absolute jerk for trying to scare her.

  The doctor frowned. “Oh. Do I need to call security?”

  She shook her head, wishing she had never said anything. “No, it’s not like that. He found the car after it crashed. That’s what I mean. I don’t know him very well.”

  “You certainly seem to have made an impression on him since he’s been sitting around the hospital for hours. I’m pretty sure he’s seen at least one shift change, but he’s still here.”

  Yes, and he would know she’d need a ride home, wouldn’t he? He’d seen the condition of her car—even she wasn’t aware of exactly how much damage had been done, though she could guess. If Beth had died—something she was still unable to wrap her mind around—there was probably no driving the car anymore.

  Once again, the sense that she had no control over her own life left a sour taste in her mouth. Beth would know what to do right now. Beth always knew what to do.

  “I’ll deal with it,” she decided. “Thank you for letting me know he’s still out there.”

  “I’ll send the nurse in to remove your IV,” he promised before hurrying out. Clearly, he was busy and had other patients to tend to, but she couldn’t help wondering if he just wanted to get away from her. She probably wasn’t the easiest person to deal with, insisting she had to work when everyone urged her to rest and process things and such.

  They didn’t know her. They couldn’t be aware of the way she thought, the way she dealt with problems. She tended to face them head-on, to wear them down until they were nothing. How else could she have built a thriving business at her age?

  A business that would fall apart in no time if people started quitting because they were afraid.

  She couldn’t help but remember Sledge warning her there was something bigger going on.

  Sledge. What kind of name was that? He probably thought it made him sound tough. Or like it made him seem more commanding, the sort of guy nobody in their right mind would want to tangle with.

  The fact was she wouldn’t want to tangle with him even if she didn’t know his name. He was enormous, a tower of muscle. Probably not much of a brain in his head—she chastised herself the second she thought it since she was sure people thought the same thing about her. She was small, always had been, and she’d gone through life being younger than everybody else in the room. High school, college, the boardroom. She was always the youngest, always the easiest to underestimate.

  And she’d always proved her detractors wrong.

  She doubted Sledge would prove her wrong. Anyone who would take advantage of a vulnerable person the way he’d tried to do to her wasn’t worthy of her respect.

  In true hospital fashion, it took over an hour for anyone to come in to help with her IV and to give her discharge papers. She didn’t need any medications, so there were no prescriptions to be filled. “You’re all set,” the nurse assured her with a sympathetic smile.

  Funny. She’d been practically climbing the walls, desperate to leave. Now that she was able to, she realized she didn’t know the first thing about how to move forward from this. Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe she needed time to process the trauma.

  No, she didn’t have time for that. Not if she wanted to remain in business. “Thank you for everything,” she replied with a smile, gathering her purse. If she had to call a cab, she would do that.

  She had a feeling someone would disagree—someone who was still waiting in the lounge across from the elevators when she emerged from the ward.

  “Should you be walking?” he asked, by her side in an instant. Sure enough, he hadn’t left, wearing the same clothes he’d worn when he barged in on her
and that baby-faced cop.

  “What? Do you plan on carrying me?” She jammed her finger against the button for the lobby, wishing he would go away.

  “Shouldn’t you have a wheelchair? That’s what I mean. Don’t they usually give people wheelchairs at times like this?”

  “This is the first car accident I’ve ever been in, so I couldn’t tell you.”

  “It just seems strange to me that they would let you waltz out of your room all alone. They didn’t even have anyone escort you downstairs.”

  “I don’t need an escort,” she spat. “And I don’t need you hovering over me. Stop trying to sell me your services.” She then took a step away from him, wrinkling her nose. “You need a shower. Why did you even stay here? Didn’t they make it clear that I don’t want you here?”

  His expression was stormy, and for a second, she wondered if it was a good idea to upset somebody of his size and probable strength. She’d never seen what he was capable of, but she could imagine. Nobody his size was weak. What if he was some sort of crazy person who would attack her for insulting him?

  “Whether or not you think you need help, it doesn’t matter. You do.” They stepped into the elevator, and Marnie leaned against the wall.

  That was a mistake. “What’s the matter? Do you feel weak?” It was all she could do not to laugh at him. If he’d wrung his hands, he couldn’t be any more the image of a worried parent.

  “I’m tired,” she admitted. “Wouldn’t you be?”

  “Which is why they should have given you a wheelchair and wheeled you downstairs. This is ridiculous.” He looked angry. That might have been the most unbelievable part of all, how angry he looked on her behalf.

  “What does it matter to you? Why are you even still here? I don’t know you. Listen.” She stood up as straight as she could and fixed him with the stern look she often used when staring down anyone who underestimated her. “I really, truly appreciate you finding us and calling an ambulance. I appreciate you coming in and talking to that cop for me because I didn’t know the first thing about what happened during the accident. But that’s it. That’s where this ends. I don’t know where you get the idea that there’s something more going on, but I can promise you there isn’t.”

  He shook his head, snickering. “You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Are you that determined to ignore what’s going on?”

  She spoke through gritted teeth. “There is nothing going on except for me losing my best friend last night. Isn’t that enough?” She did feel tired suddenly, weak, and she did wish somebody had given her a wheelchair. She hated showing weakness, but she was afraid she’d swoon before long.

  It was a relief when the elevator doors opened and she stepped into the cool lobby. Sledge made sure she wasn’t relieved for long. “How are you getting home?”

  “A cab, I guess, or rideshare.” She should have requested one earlier, come to think of it. Now, with her luck, Sledge would hover around her until the car arrived.

  “Let me drive you. One of my teammates left a car here for when it was time to go.”

  “No, thank you,” she muttered as she fished her phone from her purse.

  “I’m only trying to help.”

  “Funny, but I don’t remember asking you for help.” She shot him a dirty look. “You’re the one calling me stubborn, but you can’t seem to get it through your head that I’m fine without you.”

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “I will, thank you very much. I think it’s obscene what you’re doing right now.”

  “Obscene? What are you talking about?”

  “You can’t be serious. You put all this effort into scaring me, into making me feel like I’m a victim or I’m in danger.” Her voice was barely a whisper—as it was, a security guard eyed them from across the lobby.

  Sledge’s jaw worked, his eyes narrowing, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down like he was having a hard time getting himself together. Like there was a lot he wanted to say but didn’t dare. She knew how it felt.

  “I’m not trying to scare you,” he murmured. “In fact, I’m trying to make you feel more secure. Doesn't it bother you at all that your friend is the third member of your executive team to die in the past two weeks? This doesn’t seem strange to you? Marnie, listen to me.”

  She flinched back when he took a step closer, and from the corner of her eye, she noticed the security guard getting up from his chair. “You better be careful unless you want to answer questions.” She cut her eyes to the side, in the guard’s direction, and Sledge stood down.

  “Marnie,” he murmured, his jaw tight, his eyes darkening beneath lowered brows. He’d clearly forgotten that she asked not to be called by her first name. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but I saw the car run you off the road. It was no accident. It was no chance encounter. They deliberately did it, and they might know you’re still alive. In fact, I would bet good money on it. They’re probably keeping tabs on you through the news. When they find out only one person died in that accident, they’re going to keep coming for you. You have to understand that. You don’t have to like it, but you have to understand.”

  There went that icy feeling again. It was all she could do to keep from shivering.

  “You’re being unfair,” she breathed, fighting against the images his words called to mind, fighting them with everything in her. He couldn’t be right. He just couldn’t be. She refused to believe it.

  “No, I’m not. I’m concerned about you. Let me take you home. I can even look around your house, make sure you're secured.”

  She scoffed at the idea. If he thought she was about to let him into her house, he was sadly mistaken. “I wasn’t born yesterday. Do you think I’m going to let you have free run of my house?”

  “Marnie.” He insisted on calling her by her first name over and over like it would establish trust or intimacy between them. Did he think she was an idiot?

  “Sledge,” she spat back. “See? I can do that, too. I can establish a rapport by using your first name over and over. I’m not a complete moron, you know.”

  “Trust me,” he smirked, “I’d never use that word to describe you. Have I asked you for anything except trust? I don’t want money. I don’t want anything but for you to trust me, to believe that all I want is what’s best for you. Maybe what I saw last night shook me up. Maybe I hate the thought of this happening to you again. What’s so wrong with that? Are you this jaded that you don’t believe there are people in the world who really want to help with nothing in return?”

  Either she was more tired and heartbroken than she believed, or he was starting to get through to her. Either way, she didn’t feel like fighting anymore. “Okay. If you could take me home, that would be nice. I just want to take a bath and lie down.”

  There was no missing the triumph of his smile or the way he visibly relaxed. “That can be arranged.”

  Chapter Seven

  The house sat out on Long Island, and Sledge’s first impression was that it was far too large for just one person. “Do you live alone?” he asked as they pulled into the wide driveway.

  “Why?” she sneered, suspicious as always. He’d gotten nothing but one-word answers through the entire ride.

  “Are you serious? Why are you always on your guard? It’s only a question.” The girl was exhausting, flat-out. He was starting to wonder what his wolf was playing at by insisting he stick around for the sake of being abused and ignored.

  “Yes, I live alone,” she sighed with a roll of her eyes. “If I didn’t, I would’ve had someone pick me up. Right?”

  “Sure.” It was tough fighting the urge to snarl at her. She had no idea who she was playing with. If she did, she would straighten up for sure. For a moment, he took pleasure in the thought of how she would react if she had even the slightest idea who she was in the car with.

  He was trying to get her to trust him, wasn’t he? And it wasn’t like him to have bitter thoughts like that. The
n again, she was pushing him to the limit, and not many people had ever done that.

  It was a two-story house with a deep porch that wrapped around three sides and a beautifully landscaped lawn and garden. From where he parked the car, he had a glimpse of the backyard, which looked like some sort of floral paradise filled with huge flowers and butterflies and bees floating around. He smelled roses, their fragrance almost cloyingly sweet to his heightened sense of smell.

  She took as much care with the house’s exterior as she did with the landscaping—or at least she paid someone to. There wasn’t so much as a bit of flaking paint or a window that wasn’t spotlessly clean. The siding was a soft, robin’s egg blue, the trim and shutters bright white.

  “This is nice,” he murmured, taking it all in. It seemed a lot homier than he would’ve imagined since she didn’t seem the type to care about much more than her work. Single, no romantic partners, no children, and few friends. He would’ve imagined her in a bare-bones apartment in the city—expensive, no doubt, but not the slice of Americana he saw before him.

  “Thanks,” she murmured, making her way up the brick path. She walked slowly thanks to the soreness she was undoubtedly suffering. They hadn’t given her anything to take home that he was aware of—muscle relaxers, that sort of thing—and he could imagine her suffering a sleepless night or two because of it.

  Because of a lot of things.

  “Okay, thank you for the ride,” she murmured as they drew closer to the house.

  “Marnie.”

  “Sledge.” She turned to face him upon reaching the porch, her face screwed up in an expression of distaste and frustration. They had that much in common since he was frustrated with her and didn’t much care for the denial she seemed to float in. “This is my house. I’m a very private person. I don’t like the idea of somebody being here with me.”

  No wonder she didn’t have many friends. Or a boyfriend. “Does it matter that I would feel a lot better if I at least knew you were secure in there? Do you even have an alarm system?” She blushed, and he got his answer. “Come on. You’re a smart person. You must know it would be a good idea to at least have an alarm system. Or a dog.”