He dragged the tip of the knife across her throat. A small cut, not deep enough to do damage, but enough to frighten and intimidate her. Deep enough to mar her delicate flesh and sever nerve endings close to the surface of her skin. Deep enough to hurt.
Vision or no vision, he had to try. The next slice might take her life. With a growl and a prayer, Cash aimed his Sig at Burgess’s head and pulled the trigger.
Tsring. The bullet whirred from the barrel in a flash.
The recoil swung his wrist up, but his aim was true. Clark’s head exploded on impact. Gray matter, blood, and bone flew, and his limp body hung suspended in the air for a moment before it slid to the side. Kate threw herself over the bed of the gurney just as his body rocked with the impact of the bullet, and she fell to the floor inches from where he landed.
Still befuddled from the effects of the drug Burgess had administered, Kate stared at his dead body and held her hand against her throat as blood trickled between her fingers. She looked at him, eyes wide, her body beginning to exhibit the effects of shock.
Cash rushed to her. She was ice cold, shaking uncontrollably, eyes glazed, unresponsive to Cash as he rubbed her arms and tried to pry her fingers away from her throat. The wound looked worse than it was.
Jake glanced at Kate, then swiveled to him. “Cash, she’s going into shock.” He pulled out his cell, then dropped his arms out to the side as a fully armed SWAT invaded the space screaming, “Hands up! Drop your weapons.”
They obeyed the terse command.
“About damn time you got here,” Cash barked.
Ragusa yelled, his hands in the air. “We’re police. Third precinct. Hold your fire!” He flashed his badge, and the officer in command gave the order to stand down.
“Do we have EMTs at the scene?” Cash demanded.
The SWAT leader spoke into his mouthpiece, and a scant minute later two paramedics elbowed their way through the sea of men and began to check Kate’s vitals. She clung to Cash’s hand, silently submitting to the primary check without answering their questions or focusing on what was happening. One man cleaned the cut on her neck and placed a temporary bandage. The other prepped her arm and started an IV.
“She looks pretty good, all things considered, but we’d like to get her to the hospital and get her checked out,” the first paramedic said.
“No…I want to go home. I’ll be okay. I just need to go home, ” Kate objected and pulled her head away from the bright light shining in her eyes.
The EMTs shared a glance. “Her pupils are dilated. Is she taking any drugs?”
Cash nodded toward the body on the floor. “He did something.”
“Do you know what he gave her?”
“No idea. But there’s no way she needs to be released.”
The EMT placed a calming hand on her arm. “Ma’am, we have to take you to the hospital. Until we know what you were given, we can’t let you refuse treatment.”
Cash moved in front of her and took her arms in his hands in a soft but determined hold. “Lady,” he said softly, “you’ve been through one hell of a night. I’d feel better if a doctor could make sure your neck is taken care of. The car is messed up—the impact could have injured something inside. A check-up? An x-ray? Please? For me?”
“And you?” she asked. “Will you come? You look worse than me.”
Cash nodded. “I promise I won’t let you out of my sight.” He glanced at the man taking her vitals and received an answering chin lift.
He held her for a minute. She was so damn precious to him, and he was so damn grateful she was alive. God, what a woman. In spite of her trembling, she felt strong. As soon as she was able, he’d get as close to her as he could and never let her go.
“I love you,” he whispered in her ear.
“Love you, too,” she whispered back before she closed her eyes.
They got her to the ambulance, and Cash crawled in back with her. He tried to stay out of the way of the EMT, but she wouldn’t let go of his hand. Her white-knuckled grip tightened every time he tried to pull away.
Kate’s eyes popped open. “You came. I called for you, and you came. You saved me.” She gave him a watery smile.
The EMT checked the IV, and still she held Cash’s hand in a death grip. He kept a steady pressure, reassuring her. “I’m not going to let go, lady. You’re going to be all right. Just hang tight until we get you checked out, okay?”
“It’s all over, isn’t it?” Kate whispered.
“It will be as soon as we get the all-clear on you,” Cash replied.
“Rush?”
“He’s fine. Cuts and a few bruises from the accident, and a mild concussion. Nothing he hasn’t had before.”
“Allison and Brodie?”
“They’ll be on their way to New York soon. Jake made sure they got to the restaurant. He was beginning to wonder what was keeping us when Ragusa called him.”
“How did you find me?”
It began to hit him then. Clark’s threats, the kidnapping. Barging in, seeing her under the sick embrace of a madman. She could have been killed, but she was alive.
He’d saved her.
He loved her.
He would never let her go.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The ride to the hospital seemed to take forever. She’d never been in an ambulance before—it swayed, hit pot holes, and the noise from the siren was deafening. Once they hauled her out of the back, it didn’t take long for the emergency room doctor to look her over.
Cash stood by the ER bed; she couldn’t seem to force her fingers to let go of him. Her gaze locked on his face. Bloodied and a little worse for wear, he was her anchor to the world.
She heard the doctor speaking in a reassuring voice as they checked her over, and Cash murmured in return. Just to be safe, the doctor wanted to do an MRI.
“No—I’m fine. Please, just dress the cut on my neck and let me go home. I need to go home.” She didn’t sound like herself—her voice was high-pitched, thin, strident. The two men exchanged a look, and Cash gently squeezed her forearm.
“Let them,” he urged. “For me.”
When the test was completed, they moved her to a private room. Somehow they’d overridden all her objections to staying for the night. Cash begged when she fussed, but it was only for show. He’d made up her mind for her, it seemed.
Once they had her changed and in bed, Cash settled into the semi-comfortable recliner with a pillow brought by the nurse. He had to be exhausted after all that had happened. The ER docs had checked him out, but of course he allowed only the necessary treatment. Honestly, he’d made such a fuss, just like a little boy. Her heart warmed. All his concern was for her—none for himself. Her dragon-slayer, her hero.
“Sweetheart,” she said with a smile, “why don’t you go home? Get a shower and some food, and a good night’s sleep—what remains of it, anyway. I’m good now, and you can’t do a thing for me except be here. I’d feel better knowing you were comfortable. We won’t have the results of the test before late morning. You have to be exhausted, and I’ll be fine. The nurses will be coming in and out of the room all night. You won’t get any rest at all if you stay.”
“I don’t want to let you out of my sight.” He leaned over and brushed a kiss on her lips.
“Have you called Suzanna?”
“It’s one in the morning. I’ll call her first thing when it’s daylight. She’ll be relieved to hear Burgess has been taken care of and the ordeal is over. Ray’s mom will be, too.”
Kate yawned. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Think you can sleep?” he asked.
“Only for a hundred years or so. I’m so tired. Please get out of here.”
“I’ll be here first thing in the morning.” He stared into her eyes and bent until his lips hovered above hers. “I love you, pretty lady.”
She touched his lips with hers. “Love you, too. Now, go.”
Eyes at half-mast, she smiled when he s
queezed her hand and walked quietly from the room.
****
A sharp knock on the door awakened Kate the next morning. “Ms. Sanders? Hi. I’m Dr. Whitcomb, the staff physician on call. How you escaped with so few injuries is a miracle, but for the most part you came through with flying colors. A few bruises, no broken bones. The drug he gave you was rohypnol—commonly known as the date rape drug. Have you experienced any memory loss?”
“I don’t remember much of anything after leaving the concert until I woke in that room with Clark leaning over me.”
“That’s actually encouraging. No lasting side effects—the dose he slipped you must have been a small one.”
Her hand crept to her throat.
The doctor nodded. “The cut on your neck isn’t deep—shouldn’t leave a scar. How are you feeling emotionally?”
Kate shrugged. As Dr. Whitcomb studied her, he asked “You’re a breast cancer survivor?”
Of course he would have her records. Her oncologist, Dr. Carrie Carlson, was on staff at Memorial.
Dr. Whitcomb moved closer to her bed, listened to her heart, palpated her neck, examined her eyes with the tiny blinding light. “Dr. Carlson is on rounds this morning, and I’ve asked her to join us,” he casually mentioned. A little too casually.
Her heart dropped to her stomach, and her arms crossed her waist, holding herself in shock.
Calm down. Don’t overreact. Maybe it won’t be that bad.
Who was she kidding? It was always that bad.
Dr. Carlson. The oncologist. Her MRI. She connected the dots as cold, paralyzing fear crept over her body from her toes to her hair. Air squeezed from her lungs, and she struggled to breathe. Dr. Whitcomb’s image faded, and all the agony of her previous surgery, the pain of recovery, the pulsing nausea from chemo, and the branding fire of the radiation treatments turning her body to ash came flooding back. Panic shook her body, and her chest heaved, eyes closed, and tears streamed like lava flows down ice-cold cheeks.
Doctors could be such cowards. They didn’t want to tell you bad news—didn’t want to deal with overwrought emotions and uncontrollable fears. They soft-pedaled diagnoses and down-played the realities of treatment. In part, to give hope. Understandable—they were human. Human and fallible.
But Kate had been there. She’d experienced it before. And, God help her, she wasn’t sure she could go through it again. From somewhere in the room, she heard pitiful weeping, a ravaged voice crying, “No,” over and over and over again. And Dr. Whitcomb in the background calling for a nurse.
Carrie Carlson’s voice called, “Kate…Kate, listen to me.” Her fingers gently gripped Kate’s jaw. “Open your eyes, Katherine. I want to make sure you understand everything I’m about to tell you.”
Dr. Carlson spoke to the nurse. “In her chart, you’ll find the names and phone numbers of her contacts. Please call Ms. Monroe and Ms. Compton, ask if either is available, and have one or both of them come to the hospital. Don’t scare them—just tell them Ms. Sanders needs them. All right, Kate? Ellie and Gigi will be with you.”
She opened her eyes.
“Try and have a little faith, Kate. It’s going to be all right. If it is cancer, we’ve caught it in time,” Carrie said, and patted her hand.
Not again. Not again. Not again.
Though her body shook, Kate dug into a part of her reserves long buried. Get hold of yourself. Pay attention. Her survival might depend on it.
Cash.
He was probably on his way. She didn’t want him to hear the word “cancer,” didn’t want to expose him to the possibility of what the word could mean.
“Please…my…” she began. My what? My friend? No, surely a friend, but much, much more than that. Lover, then. Yes. The man who loved her. Whom she loved in return; whose heart would break for her and hers for him.
“Cash Montgomery. I…I can’t see him. Don’t let him come to the room, please. Whatever he says, don’t let him in.”
Dr. Whitcomb locked gazes with Dr. Carlson. When she nodded, he left the room. Once she accepted what lay ahead, came to terms with the changes she’d face, only then would she talk to Cash. Make him understand what she had to do was for the best.
“Are you sure you don’t want him with you?” Dr. Carlson asked quietly.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Kate closed her eyes, gathered her courage, and glanced into the sympathetic gaze of her doctor.
“How bad is it? Really,” was all she asked.
Dr. Carlson had been with her every step of the way. She didn’t prevaricate or obfuscate the facts. “You’re lucky. The accident necessitated an MRI. Knowing you’d had breast cancer before, they were careful to read the film of the chest cavity. You have a small tumor, about the size of a pea, at three o’clock. Had you waited until your mammogram, we would have had to perform another mastectomy.”
The blood drained from her face. The doctor’s hand latched onto hers, drawing her attention back to the problem at hand.
“As it is, I’m fairly certain it’s hormonal in nature. I’d suggest a treatment plan consisting of lumpectomy followed by radiation. I won’t know for sure until we do a biopsy, but I’m optimistic we won’t have to take the breast this time.”
Good news. And what then? More lumps, a lifetime living in fear of when the next bout of cancer would show up? Her head lolled to the side as tears once again streamed from her eyes. She mourned the loss of her breast, her newly found love, the hope for a family, and most of all, she mourned what she knew deep down she would have to do.
Well, she’d endured radiation and survived. She could do it again. And, if the worst happened and they had to take her other breast, well, she could live with that, too. She was a fighter, a survivor…and really, what choice did she have? Life goes on regardless, doesn’t it? She was too young to burrow in a hole, pile the dirt on top, and give up.
Life was sometimes cruel. Always finite. She could choose to live it or to endure it.
But Cash. Cash and Suzanna. They didn’t deserve to be dragged into an uncertain future. After losing a wife and mother once, walking through the valley of the shadow with someone they loved so much, would they even want to take a chance again? Should she let them?
Kate wiped her tears with her hand, thinking of Suzanna’s bright eyes and elfish grin. She was such a darling child…would grow into a stunning woman. An amazing woman.
And Cash. The man of her dreams, her once-in-a-lifetime man. If she gave him the opportunity, he’d stick. She was sure of it. How many times had he told her? And she believed him with every fiber of her being. He’d heard her unspoken plea for help, proving how closely attuned they were, had come to her rescue, defeated Clark’s psychotic plans, saved her. Told her he loved her—shown her how much.
Dear God, she wanted him. But she loved him too much to ask him to live it with her—not the way things were turning out. Not with cancer hanging over her head like a scythe. Too hard—too much to ask of anyone—much less someone you loved as much as she loved Cash.
****
Ellie and Gigi didn’t give her an opportunity to turn them away. Ellie flew to one side of her bed, Gigi to the other. The women hugged, tears falling down three beautiful faces.
“Don’t worry about a thing. Whatever it takes, we’ll get through this.” Ellie rubbed her hand up and down her arm.
Gigi wiped the tears from her face. “Yeah. We’ve done this before. We can handle it. The only thing you have to worry about is treatment and getting on your feet again. We’ve already talked. One of us is going to be with you at all times—we’ll rotate.”
Kate shook her head. “I can’t let you do that. It won’t be necessary. I’ve been lying here thinking about how I want to approach this.” She took a deep breath. “I appreciate your love and support, truly I do, but the circumstances are different this time. The cancer is small, stage one.”
She sat up in the bed, taking her friends’ hands in hers—one each—and stared directly
into their faces. “I’ve made the decision to go to MD Anderson Cancer Treatment Center in Houston. There are innovative treatments available now that may be applicable to my diagnosis. And too, I want to know what I’m dealing with. I want to know what the future holds—as much as possible, anyway.”
Gigi hugged her. “Good decision. We’re with you. By the way, there’s a big guy leaning on the wall outside the door, about to blow. He doesn’t appreciate being banned from your room. Don’t you think you should talk this over with him?”
Ellie nodded. “He loves you, Kate. You can’t shut him out.”
Kate nodded. “I’m planning on talking with him once I get my ducks in a row. If the cancer is more involved than we presently think…it isn’t fair to him or Suzanna, Ellie. You both know it isn’t. Once I have all the facts, and if having them I determine we can have a future together, nothing would make me happier. But if I’m facing tumor after tumor, and cancer becomes my constant companion, there’s no way I’d subject Cash or Suze to that possibility.”
“This is a mistake. You need him…” Ellie began.
Kate’s face grew warm even as her features hardened. “You’re damn straight I need him. I also love him. This is my decision. My call. My life. Listen, I love you both and appreciate you more than you’ll ever know, but there are some roads a person has to travel alone. This is one of them. I need all my courage this time, all my resources. I can’t do it if I have to worry about how this affects the people I care for.”
Gigi patted her leg, more serious than she had ever seen her. “You’re right. I hate to say it, but you are. If you need to face the devil on your own, it’s your prerogative. When you need us, we’ll be here. Call and we’re on the next flight to Texas. Who knows? Maybe your doctor will wear a Stetson. Any man looks better in a Stetson.”
“And boots,” Ellie added with a tiny giggle.
Kate grinned. “Don’t forget the buckle.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cash pushed back from the wall as the girls came out of Kate’s room. He was going into that room regardless of Kate or the doctors or the girlfriends. He had to make sure she was okay before he picked Suzanna up at the airport. Damn it! Didn’t she know how much he loved her? How could she treat him like an interloper?
A Little Night Music Page 22