by Laura Scott
“Get in!” The terse order startled her.
“O-okay.” Willow glanced at Nate and knew by the intensity of his gaze that he was going to risk his life to save them.
No! It couldn’t end like this. She refused to let it end like this!
She abruptly leaped forward to the front seat of the vehicle, slamming her fist onto the center of the steering wheel. The horn blared loudly, echoing off the brick buildings on either side of them.
In the same moment, Nate launched himself at the deputy mayor. “Get her, Murphy!”
The sharp retort of a gunshot could be heard above the sound of the horn. Finally, the officers who’d been standing just thirty feet away came running toward them.
“Nate! Nate!” He’d pinned Theresa Gray against the asphalt, his hands fighting for control of the weapon. Willow didn’t see any blood, but feared the worst. “Someone please help him!”
After barking loudly in Theresa’s face, Murphy shifted and grabbed her ankle in his teeth, clamping down tight enough to make her scream in outrage.
“Get him off me!”
That was all the advantage Nate needed. He yanked the gun from her grip and tossed it out of reach just as two officers joined the fray, surrounding them and helping Nate up and off Gray. In seconds they had the deputy mayor handcuffed.
Willow let out a ragged sigh of relief. This time, it was finally over.
Then she frowned. Bright crimson drops stained the white paint of the police SUV. What in the world? “Nate? Are you hurt?”
He stared at her blankly for a moment before glancing down at himself. Slowly, he put a hand up to the upper part of his left arm. The blue uniform was dark and when he pulled his palm away, it was covered in blood.
She gasped in horror. “She shot you!”
“Yeah.” He looked surprised. “I hadn’t noticed until now.”
Tears pricked her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away. “We need an ambulance!” Feeling desperate, she turned to the front seat of the SUV. There had to be something she could use to help stop the bleeding.
“The glove box.” Nate’s voice was calm and sturdy despite the fact that he’d been shot. “And don’t panic, it’s just a flesh wound.”
A flesh wound that was bleeding like a sieve. Opening the glove compartment, she found a first aid kit. Pulling out some gauze, she turned toward him and placed several white squares against the opening in the ripped sleeve of his shirt.
Seeing the wound up close, she realized he was right. The injury didn’t look too serious, but was bad enough to need at least two layers of stitches. The amount of blood made her think an artery might have been hit.
“I knew you were going to jump toward her.” She kept pressure against the pack of gauze. “I just knew it.”
“Is that why you hit the horn?”
“Yes. I was hoping to get someone to pay attention.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up in a lopsided grin. “Smart move. It startled her and caused her aim to go high and to the side. Probably saved my life.”
Her eyes misted again. “I didn’t know what else to do. I absolutely didn’t want to get into the car with her.”
“Shh, it’s okay.” As if he wasn’t injured, he pulled her close for a moment, brushing a kiss over her forehead. “It’s over now for good.”
She savored his embrace for a moment before pulling away, making room for the paramedics to move in. Feeling helpless to do anything more, she turned to Lucy, who had started to cry when the gun went off. Reaching into the back of the SUV, she gently pried her niece out of the car seat and into her arms.
“Shh, Lucy, it’s okay. We’re fine. Everything is going to be just fine.”
Lucy gripped her tightly around the neck, buried her face in Willow’s shoulder. It occurred to Willow that she’d said those same reassurances to Lucy several times now, but things hadn’t been fine.
Just the opposite. They’d been in danger ever since the moment she’d brought Lucy home to live with her.
And as far as she knew, the police were no closer to finding the mean clown with blue hair that had killed Lucy’s parents. She knew the Brooklyn K-9 Unit was working hard on the case, though.
“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.” She rested her cheek on Lucy’s wavy hair. “You’ve been so brave.”
“I wanna go home.” Lucy’s words were muffled against her neck.
Willow helplessly wondered if Lucy meant her apartment or her real home, the house she’d once shared with her parents.
“I know, baby. I know.”
She hugged Lucy close, grateful the threat against them was over.
“I can walk.” Ignoring Nate’s protests, the paramedics assisted him onto the gurney. “It’s not that bad.”
“I think it’s better to let the doctor decide that. You may need minor surgery to repair that wound.” The paramedic near the head of the gurney rolled his eyes. “Why do our patients always think they know more than we do?”
“No clue,” the paramedic at the foot responded.
“Hey, stop talking about me as if I’m not here.” Nate scowled and winced as they tightened the straps around him. “It’s just a flesh wound, and I’m not leaving without my partner. Murphy, come!”
The paramedics exchanged a long look. “Listen, buddy, your dog can’t come with us.”
“I can’t leave him here.” Nate levered himself upright. “I’ll refuse to go with you. You can’t force me.”
“Nate, please.” She reached out to lightly touch his uninjured arm. Her heart ached for him, and she realized how much she cared for this man she’d only known a short time. “Do as they say, okay? I’ll take care of Murphy for you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think Sarge will let you do that. Murphy is a cop. He’ll have to go back to the precinct.”
Vivienne stepped forward, her gaze full of concern. “I’ll smooth things over with Sarge. We can let Willow take Murphy for now. I can always pick him up later.”
Willow wanted to weep with relief when Nate stopped fighting and nodded. “Okay, fine.”
“We’ll take good care of him.” She forced a reassuring smile. “And we’ll see you soon.”
“No.” The word came out so harsh she reared back as if he’d slapped her. “Listen, Willow, do me a favor and take Lucy and Murphy home, okay? You have both been through a lot, but you’re safe now. There’s no reason for you to come to the hospital. I’ll be fine.”
“Why not? I don’t understand...” Her voice trailed off as the paramedic team began wheeling him toward the waiting rig.
She stared after them in shocked surprise. What was going on? Why didn’t he want her to come to the hospital, to be there for him? Was this Nate’s way of telling her their time together was over?
The thought of never seeing him again made her blood run cold. She’d hoped things would turn out differently once she and Lucy were safe. That maybe Nate would decide to give a relationship a try. Hadn’t Nate admitted to putting his faith in God?
Then again, he’d made it clear he wasn’t the kind of guy who wanted a family. Maybe he’d only used his father’s anger and physical abuse as an excuse.
Maybe this was much more personal. That it was just Willow and Lucy he didn’t want.
Nate and Murphy had saved their lives. It was more than anyone had ever done for her. She loved Nate, but would have to find a way to get over it. Time to stop wishing for things she couldn’t have, to focus on the blessings God had granted.
She reached down to stroke Murphy’s pale fur.
They were alive, and relatively unharmed, at least physically. Emotionally? Well, she knew Lucy would carry the psychological scars for a long time to come.
The best thing she could do for Nate was to support his decision. Despite the fact that every cell
in her body wanted to scream in protest, she told herself to move on.
Nate had sacrificed himself for them.
The least she could do was let him go without a fuss.
EIGHTEEN
Considering he hadn’t realized that he’d been shot, it was amazing that now that he was aware of the injury, his left arm throbbed worse than a sore tooth. Nate hated being in the ambulance and in the Emergency Department; playing the role of helpless victim wasn’t his thing. He was relieved when the doctor had announced that once the wound was cleaned and stitched and he’d been given antibiotics, as bullets were obviously considered to be a source of infection, he was free to go.
As he waited for the antibiotic to drip through his IV, he tried to forget the wounded expression in Willow’s eyes when he’d told her not to come see him. He closed his eyes against the harsh overhead lights, telling himself he’d done the right thing. Better to have a clean break.
The danger was over. She didn’t need him anymore.
But the idea of not seeing her and Lucy again hurt at a visceral level, far worse than the physical discomfort in his upper arm.
The events outside the SUV replayed over and over in his head like a stuck video loop. The moment of searing anger that had hit him seconds before he’d launched himself at the deputy mayor at the exact same time Willow had hit the horn.
Taking her down to the asphalt and fighting for the gun.
He’d managed to hold his anger in check as the officers had pulled him off the woman who’d tried to kill him and Willow, but he’d been secretly horrified at his reaction.
The idea that he might be more like his father than he realized wouldn’t leave him alone.
And it had forced him to realize Willow and Lucy were better off without him. He may have fallen for Willow and the adorable Lucy, but they would be fine. Better, probably, without him.
“Detective Slater?” He opened his eyes when a nurse lightly touched his arm. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Willow? His heart soared with anticipation, but when he turned to look at the person standing in the doorway, a K-9 at her side, disappointment stabbed deep. Still, he forced a smile. “Vivienne, what are you doing here?”
“Checking in.” Her brow furrowed with concern. “Sarge wants an update on your condition.”
“I’m fine.” He didn’t want or need sympathy from his team. Bad enough that he hadn’t figured out what was going on until it was too late.
Until he’d almost lost the woman and little girl he cared about more than anything.
More than himself.
“Hmm.” She stared at the IV. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yeah.” He shifted on the gurney. “They’re letting me out of here as soon as the meds are in. It’s just a flesh wound, only needed about a dozen stitches. Nothing bad enough to keep me off duty for very long.”
“It sure bled enough.” Vivienne stepped closer, her expression full of concern. “I’m sorry I stopped you from taking Willow and Lucy home. If I had let you go...” Her voice trailed off.
“Not your fault. You were right about sticking to protocol.” Granted, the same thought had filtered through his mind, but it was ridiculous to play the what-if game. For all he knew, the deputy mayor might have followed them to Willow’s, where the outcome could have been much worse. “Besides, I have a feeling she was hanging around there for a while, waiting for us. Leaving earlier likely wouldn’t have changed anything.”
“Maybe not,” Vivienne conceded. “Listen, I have to head back to the station. Gavin called another staff meeting, wants us there in an hour.”
He glanced up at the IV that was still dripping. “The antibiotic is almost finished. Do you mind giving me a ride? I’d like to be there.”
“Sure, why not? Your SUV is being processed as part of the crime scene, anyway.”
“Great.” He couldn’t deny being anxious to get out of here. “All this fuss over a flesh wound.”
“I’m pretty sure that even a flesh wound can get infected.” Vivienne tipped her head to the side, her expression turning thoughtful. “Why did you tell Willow not to visit?”
He glanced away, unable to maintain eye contact. “I won’t be here long enough to warrant a visit. Besides, it’s better for her and Lucy.”
“Yeah, but why? It’s obvious she cares about you, and I’m fairly certain the feeling is mutual.”
No way was he revealing the truth about his father’s abuse. Willow was the only one he’d told, and he planned to keep it that way.
“Never mind, I shouldn’t have asked.” She glanced up at the IV. “I’m going to call Sarge, tell him we’ll be there shortly.”
As she stepped away to use her phone, he realized Vivienne didn’t have Murphy with her, which meant he’d have to pick up his partner himself. Despite the fact that he had tried to make a clean break with Willow, for her sake and Lucy’s, it appeared he’d be seeing her again soon.
Probably for the last time.
It was pathetic how grateful he was to have one more chance to see her prior to saying goodbye. Before he walked away, leaving his heart behind.
* * *
When he and Vivienne arrived at the station, the rest of the team was already gathered around the large oval table.
Gavin raised a brow when he saw Nate. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Doc said I’m fine, just a minor lifting restriction for a couple of days.” He took a seat between Max Santelli, one of the newer members of the Brooklyn K-9 Unit, and his buddy, Officer Ray Morrow.
“You’re on modified until the investigation into the shooting of Carl Dower has been completed anyway, so it’s no problem.” Gavin swept his gaze over the rest of the team. “There are a few things I wanted to let you all know about. You may have noticed that the media has caught wind of the Emery murders having a similar MO to the McGregor case.”
K-9 detective Bradley McGregor scowled. Nate knew how hard all this had to be on him—his parents killed twenty years ago. The killer suddenly back, committing a very similar double homicide. Nate froze. Was it the same killer? Or could it be a copycat?
“Noticed? Penny and I have been dodging reporters for the past twenty-four hours.”
“Sorry about that.” Gavin spread his hands. “At least this time, they seem to have focused on the fact that you were working during the time frame of the murders, so you’re not a suspect.”
“Yeah, sure.” Bradley looked glum. “I never should have been a suspect in the first place.”
“I know.” Gavin smiled reassuringly. “I also want to congratulate Ray Morrow and his K-9 partner, Abby, for stopping a drug runner who was delivering two large suitcases of prescription opioids through the subway.”
Ray shifted, looking uncomfortable with the praise. “Thanks, but Abby’s nose gets the credit.”
“Nice job.” Nate grinned. “Did you get the guy in charge?”
“Not yet.” Ray shrugged. “Idiot is refusing to talk, other than making stupid threats.”
Gavin’s gaze narrowed. “What kind of threats?”
“You know, things like, ‘Watch your back’ and ‘The boss is gonna get you for this.’ The usual garbage.”
“Two suitcases full of dope is a lot,” Gavin pointed out. “You need to take those threats seriously. Back off the case for a while, until things cool off.”
“Sure,” Ray agreed, but as soon as Gavin changed topics, he leaned toward Nate. “I’m not backing off,” he whispered. “I won’t stop pulling deliverymen off the streets until I catch the kingpin in charge of bringing drugs through Brooklyn.”
“Just be careful, okay?” Nate knew that once Ray put his mind to something, there was no changing it. “Keep your head down.”
“I will.” Ray straightened, a fierce determination in his eyes.
“Okay, that’s it for now.” Gavin slowly rose to his feet. “You’re all dismissed. Oh, and Nate?”
He paused, turned back to his boss. “Yeah?”
“Where’s Murphy?”
“I’m picking him up right now.” Nate gave Gavin a nod and headed out of the precinct.
As he made his way to Willow’s apartment, he hoped and prayed he’d have the strength of will to ignore his desire to continue seeing her on a personal level. To hold back from telling her how much he’d come to care about her and Lucy.
For her sake and his own sanity. No sense in longing for something he couldn’t have.
A family.
* * *
Her apartment seemed incredibly lonely without Nate’s presence. Murphy helped, but she knew the K-9ꞌs visit was temporary.
After she’d cleaned up Officer Kuhn’s blood from the floor, spoke to Jayne Hendricks about a child psychologist for Lucy and made an early dinner for her niece, she stared blindly out the window at the city streets below, wondering how Nate was doing.
In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been surprised by Nate’s refusal to have her come visit. Hadn’t she tried to mentally prepare herself for this? She knew from personal experience that men didn’t stick around.
They didn’t want the same things she did, like a home, a family.
Maybe his concern over turning out like his father was nothing more than an excuse to avoid becoming emotionally involved. After all, her father had been nonexistent, disappearing when she was two years old, Alex only four. Then after their mother died, they’d been raised by their grandparents.
Maybe Nate was right, that it was better to avoid becoming entangled in something that you knew you couldn’t handle long term.
Yet as soon as the theory formed in her mind, she rejected it. Nate had held her in his arms, had kissed her, twice. He’d held and kissed Lucy, too, caring for her the way a father would.
It was irritating how Nate was selling himself short; he had a great capacity for love and caring.
But maybe not with her and Lucy.