“Hello?”
“Mr. Scott?”
Tension rippled through him like a tsunami on steroids, and his gaze automatically sought out Regan’s as he battled back the déjà vu riding him hard, threatening to pull him into a past he never wanted to visit again. “This is he.”
“My name is Haley. I’m the charge nurse working in the emergency department at University Hospital. I’m calling to let you know that your sister, Willow Scott, has been in a car accident.”
Kyle’s vision tunneled and the voice on the other end of the call became a distant echo as panic overtook him. Please, God. Not again. Those words played over and over in his mind as he tried to comprehend what the nurse was saying. “How bad is it?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have a lot of information. A fast exam was performed by ultrasound as soon as she arrived, and they found bleeding in her abdomen. She was immediately taken to surgery and she’s there now.”
His stomach pitched and he felt like he was going to puke. The last time he’d gotten a call like this, it was to tell him his parents had been killed and Willow was being rushed to the hospital. She’d nearly died that night, and he’d never forgotten the soul-wrenching fear and feeling of helplessness as he’d sat vigil at her bedside, begging God to spare her.
Not again. Not again. Not again.
“I’ll be right there.” He forced the words from lungs that had no air. A wave of dizziness swept through him. His head was spinning with thoughts he could not stop, a culmination of the past and present, merging to create a nightmare he’d lived in fear of every day for the last five years. This was it. He was going to lose her…
His hands felt numb, fingers fumbling and uncoordinated as he hung up the phone and shoved it into his pocket. “Willow’s been in an accident. She’s in surgery right now. The nurse couldn’t tell me anything more over the phone.” Muscle memory was the only thing that kept him moving as he headed out the door.
“Wait. I’m coming with you.”
Footsteps pounded after him that he barely registered over the deafening pound of his heartbeat thundering in his ears. In that moment, everything else ceased to matter—not the lies, or the deception, or the betrayal. It all melted away until there was only Willow, and the plea echoing over and over in his mind. Not again…
Chapter Twelve
Pen, you’re a stupid fool…
She stood outside the steps of the police department and glanced at her watch—4:45. Kyle was late. She should have known better than to count on him—to count on anyone. Hadn’t she learned her lesson by now? So then why did she seem so determined to keep repeating it? Every freaking time the result was the same—disappointment. Why had she thought he would be any different? Because he said things any normal woman would want to hear? That he “wanted to help her” that he “cared about her.” Bleh… That didn’t make him trustworthy, it made him a liar. And she’d fallen for it.
Her gut had told her something was wrong this morning. He was acting different—more distant, but she hadn’t let herself dwell on it. She hardly knew him well enough to judge his moods, but it was obvious he’d been in a foul one. Was he having second thoughts about staying with her? Was he tired of playing the protector? Perhaps he thought if he could get her to report this to the police, it would let him off the hook. Well, she had news for him…he was off it. You don’t need him, she reminded herself, muscling up to the disappointment weighing on her. You don’t need anyone.
That Kyle had been able to elicit any emotion from her at all, even disappointment, was a warning she’d let him get under her skin. She had let herself count on him, a mistake she wouldn’t make again. Then why was she still here, standing outside the police station, waiting for him to show?
The answer was no more appealing than the revelation about her MIA roommate—she hadn’t wanted to go in alone. She didn’t want to face those memories, or the doubtful, skeptical stares of the police officers who either didn’t believe her or didn’t want to. They would ask questions about her personal life, start digging into her past—they’d discover who she was. Maybe some of them would even remember her.
She’d been down this road before—nine years ago, to be exact. She’d stood on those very steps, working up the courage to walk through those doors and tell someone what was happening to her, only to be thwarted by her mother and failed by a system sworn to protect the innocent. She could hardly believe she was considering doing it again.
An officer walked out and must have noticed her loitering at the entrance. He paused with his hand on the door, holding it open. “Are you all right, ma’am? Can I help you?”
The detective stared at her, waiting for a response. Pen panicked. “No…I don’t think so.” She shook her head and took a wary step back, the heel of her shoe missing the lip of the stair. She came down on her bad ankle. Pain lanced up her calf as she let out a sharp curse.
The detective winced at her ungraceful retreat. He started to come forward, hand outstretched to offer her assistance, but she stopped him short when she held up her palm. “Thank you. I’m fine.” Righting herself on the metal railing, Pen turned and left, limping down the steps. This had been a mistake—all of it—including Kyle. Those people couldn’t help her, and the time she started expecting someone else to fight her battles would be the time she lost them.
As she crossed the parking lot and headed toward her car, her cell chimed inside her purse. Was that Kyle feeding her an excuse about why he never showed? It was just as well; she hadn’t wanted to do this in the first place. Digging in her purse for her phone, she waited until she got into her car before opening her messages. Great, a notification that her Chase bill was due. Again, disappointment cramped inside her chest. He hadn’t even cared enough to let her know he wasn’t coming. As far as fake boyfriends went, Kyle sure was a shitty one.
Whatever.
Tossing her cell onto the seat, she reached for the belt and clicked it into place before firing the ignition. She was about to pull out when her cell went off again. Keeping her foot on the brake, she opened the messages and her stomach bottomed out.
How many chances do you think I’m going to give you? Talk to the police and you’ll be sorry.
Her cell tumbled from her numb fingers as her gaze shot up, searching the parking lot. He’s here. He’s watching me. Icy dread took hold of her pounding heart and she hated that her immediate thought was to call Kyle—even now, after he’d just stood her up. He wasn’t helping her, he was making her weak, making her doubt her ability to take care of herself.
This is bullshit. She punched the location for the nearest outfitting store into her GPS, shifted her car into gear, and then hit the accelerator. You want to follow me, asshole? Go right on ahead. You aren’t the only one who’s not messing around anymore.
Fifteen minutes later, Pen was standing at the back counter of a sporting goods store. “I need a gun,” she told the man on the other side of the glass display case. Her cell rang, cutting her off. She glanced down at the caller ID and huffed. “I’ll be just a minute.”
“Take your time.” The man turned away to help another customer as she accepted the call and stepped into an empty aisle.
“Hello?”
“Pen, it’s Kyle, I—”
“You’re late,” she snapped, cutting him off. She had no interest in hearing his excuses. Whatever he had to say, it wasn’t good enough. “I was there at the police station and you never came.”
“I know. I—”
“Guess who was there? That bastard who’s been following me. He messaged me at the station and warned me not to talk to the police!”
“Shit. Did you tell them?”
“No, I didn’t go in. I was waiting for you, like we’d planned. When you didn’t show, I left. Now I’m buying a gun.”
“You’re what? Pen, I’m sorry I—”
“You know what, Kyle? Save it. I don’t want to hear your apologies or your excuses for why you couldn�
�t be there for me. Honestly, I’m more pissed off at myself for counting on you than I am at you for standing me up. It’s okay. I’ve got this. I’m taking care of myself now.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? And do you even know how to use a gun?”
No, but how hard could it be?
“Pen, goddammit, I’m trying to tell you I—”
“Goodbye, Kyle. I’m breaking up with you. This fake relationship was doomed before it even started.” She disconnected the call and shoved her phone into her purse as she headed back to the counter.
Turns out one can’t just walk into a store and leave with a gun. Who knew? Apparently there was a three-day waiting period. But she was able to arm herself with a Taser that doubled as a nifty flashlight—how convenient—and some pepper spray. She felt a little safer as she left the store and headed toward home. In three days, she’d be hanging with her new boyfriend Sig Sauer. Though Kyle was much hotter than the metallic muscle she’d be packing, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about her .380 caliber stud standing her up again.
Pen wished she knew who was doing this. She’d spent countless hours wracking her brain, trying to figure out who it might be. There were no jealous boyfriends in her past because she didn’t date anyone, and all this had started right after she’d hooked up with Kyle. And, okay, it wasn’t him, but was he somehow connected? Before him, she hadn’t been with anyone for a few months. The alarming thought she kept circling back to was that whoever this was, he must have been closer to her than she realized, because this guy had her phone number; and although she may have been free with her body, she wasn’t as generous with her digits.
The unknown was the most frightening thing about all this. At least if she could put a face to her fear, be on the lookout for the guy, she’d feel like they were on a more level playing field. But this nut-job could be standing right beside her in line at the grocery store and she’d never know it.
On her way home, Pen passed the office and was surprised to see a taxi parked in front of the door. That was odd. Who would be here after hours? Deciding to swing in and check it out, Pen pulled up and parked beside the cab. Rolling down her window, she called to the driver, “I work here and this office is closed. Can I help you?”
“I’m waiting for Ms. Summers.”
Vi? Why was she here and why would she need a taxi? Pen hopped out of the car and entered the building. She almost called out to identify herself, but then thought better of it when she approached her office and heard sniffling. Was Vi crying? Was someone in there with her? Pen reached in the outside pouch of her purse for her pepper spray. She flicked the safety lever with her thumb as she snuck closer.
Maybe all this shit with her stalker was making her paranoid, but better to be safe than sorry. What if one of her patients had contacted Vi on the emergency line and lured her here? There was a gap in the office door, but it was too small for her to see inside. More banging and rustling continued, interspersed with sniffling. Holding her pepper spray at the ready, she used her toe to kick the door open, counting on the element of surprise as she jumped into the doorway, prepared to defend her friend.
The door banged against the wall and Vi startled, letting out a frightened yelp.
Pen surveyed the scene—an office in shambles with boxes piled on the floor and desk. “What in the hell are you doing, Vi? I almost pepper sprayed you!”
Pen met Vi’s watery stare from across the room. “I’m sorry. I should have called you but I…just couldn’t. I have to go back to New York.”
“What? You’re leaving? Vi, listen to me. This is crazy.” Why would she just up and take off? It made no sense. Violet pulled open her desk drawer and then closed her eyes as if the contents inside upset her. More tears rolled down her cheeks and she hastily brushed them away. What the hell happened? Had she been right about Nikko? Was there more to what she’d seen at the club that night? It was obvious she didn’t want to leave, that her decision to go to New York was driven by desperation and not desire. But why? It wasn’t like Vi to run away from her problems.
Pen didn’t have many people in her life, and even less that she genuinely liked and trusted. The thought of losing Vi sent her tenuous world into a tailspin. “Have you at least talked to Nikko?”
“I haven’t, and its better this way. Trust me.”
So, this was about him. Tears continued streaming and she paused to wipe her hands over her cheeks before working harder, doubling her efforts to empty her desk into that damn box. Pen wanted to start grabbing things out of it just as fast and putting them back in the drawers where they belonged.
“Vi, tell me what happened. Let’s talk about this.”
She shook her head.
Why? Why would she do this? The answer dawned with nauseating clarity. “You’re going back to Barry, aren’t you? Vi, don’t do it. That guy’s a worthless prick.”
When she didn’t confirm or deny, Pen wanted to grab her friend and shake some sense into her.
“Cancel my appointments and please tell everyone I’m sorry. Jim will be back in a few days. Everything will be fine.”
Yeah, Pen wasn’t so sure about that. She made one last attempt to try to talk some sense into her friend. “Vi, this isn’t you. I’m the crazy one who needs talking down from the ledge, not you. Please.” She grabbed her friend’s arm, trying to get her to stop and listen to her. “Tell me what’s going on. Let me help you.”
Vi took a deep breath and placed her hands on Pen’s shoulders. Looking her straight in the eye she said, “I love you. You’re my best friend and a few states isn’t going to change that.”
Except it would, and Pen needed her. Vi was the Thelma to her Louise.
“I’ll call you when I get settled.”
And that was it. She made a comment about hiring a moving company to finish packing her things and then walked out, leaving half-packed boxes scattered all over the place. Pen stood there in shock, feeling whiplashed by what just happened. Now she truly was alone. Everyone she’d ever cared about had either left her or betrayed her. This was just one more example of why she couldn’t trust or depend on anyone. Not even her friends, because eventually they all left.
As she walked out of Vi’s office, Pen was vaguely aware that the phone was ringing. Numbly, she passed her desk. The flickering red light from the after-hours line caught her attention and she picked it up, woodenly responding into the receiver. “Dr. Summers’ office. How can I help you?”
“This is Coach Marcus Miller, from Miller MMA. I was wondering if Dr. Summers might be available.”
“I’m sorry, she isn’t.” She didn’t tell him Vi was gone and that she wasn’t coming back. Pen wasn’t up to fielding the questions she’d no doubt be dealing with very soon.
“I know in the past she’s been available for emergency calls. One of my fighter’s, Kyle Scott, his sister has been in a car accident this afternoon and…” The man’s voice cracked, trailing off. He cleared his throat and it took him a second before he could continue. By then Pen’s heart was drumming so loud she could hardly hear what he was saying. “—was hoping she might come over and be available for Kyle and Regan if they need to talk…”
Pen replayed her conversation with Kyle over in her mind and her knees nearly buckled. He’d been calling her from the hospital to tell her he was sorry he’d missed their meeting and she’d bitched him out, refusing to hear his explanation.
“I’m so sorry. Of course. I’ll try to reach Dr. Summers right away. Is Kyle’s sister all right?”
“We don’t know yet. She’s still in surgery.”
A million thoughts raced through her mind as she hung up with Coach Miller and tried to call Vi’s cell. When her call immediately went to voicemail, Pen muttered a curse and hung up. Rushing from the office, she tried to call Kyle, not surprised when he didn’t answer. After the way she’d treated him, she wouldn’t take her calls either.
Chapter Thirteen
Hours
passed as Kyle and Regan sat vigil over Willow, one at each side of her bed, holding a fragile, listless hand in each of theirs. One hour melted into two, and then three, all the while reality kept blurring with the past, dredging up painful memories and stark fears Kyle had believed he’d never have to face again. And yet here he was, living this nightmare not once, but twice.
The doctors said her surgery went well and he clung to that hope as he prayed for her to live. Her spleen had ruptured and the surgeon had removed it. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped and she was stable, but what concerned him the most was that she wasn’t gaining consciousness. She’d sustained a head injury during the accident, but the CT didn’t show any obvious bleeding. The doctors were watching her closely but had no explanation for why she hadn’t woken up yet.
Before she’d been transferred to the SICU, a police officer had come by to check on her. He was hoping for a statement, but considering the condition she was in, who knew when that was going to happen. Even if she woke, there was no guarantee she’d remember anything. Goddamn Campoli. He knew that bastard was behind this. After talking to the officer and learning that a witness had come forward, testifying Willow had been run off the road, he was more convinced than ever. Were there no lengths Campoli or his father wouldn’t go to keep her from speaking out at the parole hearing?
“She was worried you wouldn’t be there—at the hearing.”
Regan’s mind must have been following the same train of thought as his. Kyle glanced up and locked eyes with the guy who had been like a brother to him for as long as he could remember. Sadness and regret made his eyes burn. His vision blurred and he looked away before the moisture could escape. “She tell you that?” He cleared his throat when it cracked, and used his thumb to clear the wetness from the corner of his eye.
In for the Win (Against the Cage Book 5) Page 11