Expired Cache

by Lisa Phillips

  She was huddled against a tree, lying on her side. Dean gasped for air as he laid two fingers on her neck to feel for a pulse.

  “Is she…” Jessica didn’t finish.

  Dean twisted to her. “She’s alive. Ted, run and get the car. Bring it to the road up there.” He pointed for a second, then gathered Ellie in his arms. Ted ran full speed. Dean ignored the screaming pain in his shoulder. She smelled like smoke, but worse than that—she was seriously cold.

  “Let me see her.” Jessica shone her flashlight on her sister’s face and hissed. “She has marks on her neck.”

  “Come on.” He struck out, using long strides to get to the street. “Let’s get her out of here.”

  Twenty-Six

  Ellie blinked, her eyes focusing on a ceiling light. Then the yellow glow stung, so she looked away from it.

  “Hey.”

  She shifted on the bed and saw an armchair across the room. Dean sat up and set a thick book aside, like a textbook. She couldn’t focus enough to read the title. “Hey.” The word was thick and graveled, barely audible.

  “Here.” He moved to the side of the bed and handed her bottled water, twisting the cap off for her.

  When she sat up on her elbow, he smoothed her hair off her shoulder.

  Ellie drank, eyeing him as the room-temperature liquid soothed her scratchy throat. “I probably look like I was dragged backward through a rosebush.”

  “That sounds painful.”

  She made a face because he was right.

  “How are you feeling?”

  She sat up further and touched her neck. “Sore. But all right.”

  It couldn’t be compared to what had happened before. She wasn’t going to let her mind drift to that place. One happened a long time ago, and the other was yesterday—or however long she’d been asleep.

  “I’ll text Ted. He can tell Jessica you’re all right.”

  Ellie groaned. “The house. Is it destroyed?”

  “There’s a lot of damage, but it’s not structural. It can be repaired.” He set the bottle of water on the end table where he had a lamp and an alarm clock. “When she hears you’re awake, she’ll want to come and get a statement about what happened.”

  “Maybe I’ll text her myself. She can just copy and paste it into a report.”

  “I’m not sure it works like that.”

  Ellie said, “My sister is a police officer and my grandfather was the chief. There have to be some perks.”

  Dean smiled. “I guess that answers my question about how your throat is doing.” Still, he lifted warm hands and probed at sore spots on her neck until she flinched. “Sorry. It looks bad.”

  “It hurts a bit when I swallow, but that’s all.”

  “Looks worse than it is?”

  Ellie shrugged. “Maybe.”

  Dean backed up and stood. “Hungry? I could make you tea and maybe some oatmeal? Something soft.”

  “I’ll come with you.” She shoved back the covers. “I’d like to stretch my legs.”

  He nodded, glancing around. Ellie scanned the room, a single man’s bedroom. She imagined it was a lot like military barracks. Decorated in a style she figured should be called, “modern military warrior.” Utilitarian furniture. Flags on the wall. A camo jacket had been hung on the back of the desk chair, and there was a collection of boots on the floor. In one corner, where the vaulted ceiling was highest, a paddleboard stood upright.

  “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

  He thought she would look down on him for having a modest living space? Ellie said, “I bought my condo from an eighty-two-year-old lady moving into a retirement home. It came fully furnished.” She paused. “And she hadn’t changed the décor since the seventies. I just need a cat, and then I’ll be the quintessential spinster history professor.”

  His lips twitched. “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “I even have her dishes—those white ones with the blue design on front that all old people seem to have.”

  He chuckled, then slipped his hand around hers and gently tugged her to the door. “You love it.”

  “It suits me.” She chewed her lip for a second. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t wonder what I’m missing.”

  “You feel like something is?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “Wondering is natural.” He led her to a huge kitchen area with a massive fridge that should probably be in a restaurant. “But if you want a change, then just do it.”

  “Just like that?” She settled on a stool, shaking her head. “Staying where I am and doing the same things I’ve always done is way less scary.”

  “Life is supposed to be scary.” He filled an electric kettle and switched it on. “That’s how you know you’re living it.”

  Ellie said, “I’m glad you and I have different definitions of scary. I don’t think I can handle what you can, Mr. Navy SEAL.”

  “Seems to me like you handled yourself just fine. Things haven’t been easy, but you came through it. Right?”

  Ellie ran her thumbnail along the cement between two counter tiles. “I didn’t fight him off. I just froze.”

  “Did you see his face?”

  She closed her eyes for a second. “He was wearing a mask. He grabbed my neck and shoved me back against the tree. I don’t know when I blacked out.” She shook her head. “He probably didn’t abduct me because he didn’t want to carry me, unconscious.”

  Who knew all those squares of caramel chocolate would come in handy? For once she was glad she was too heavy to carry.

  Dean said, “Good thing, since I got to do it instead.”

  He’d carried her? She looked at his huge bicep muscles—which she’d been trying to avoid staring at so far. “But your shoulder.”

  Dean set a steaming mug of tea in front of her. “Act now, worry later.”

  “It’s the SEAL motto?”

  He shook his head. “The SEAL motto is, ‘The only easy day was yesterday.’”

  “That sounds awful.” Ellie sipped, looking around instead while he chuckled. Because she needed a second not thinking about that man if she was going to have to go over it multiple times. That was what happened before. Everyone wanted the story, and she wound up sick of talking about it.

  Maybe that was why she’d quit therapy. There was nothing good about going over and over something, instead of just moving on from it.

  “You counsel people.” She realized she’d said it aloud when he nodded. “What if someone just wants to forget what happened to them?”

  “Depends.” He took a slow sip of his drink. “Are they self-destructing other parts of their life?”

  “Like, is the trauma manifesting itself somewhere else? Drug addiction, or OCD.”

  “Among other things, yeah.” He looked like she’d surprised him.

  “Like the fear of change.” She swallowed. “Or pushing aside emotion—all emotion—in favor of logical judgment.”

  Dean shrugged one shoulder, his expression soft. “The only person who can say what’s right for you, is you.”

  Ellie continued her study of the room, processing what he’d said while she sipped her tea. It felt good on her throat. Which made her think of that man, squeezing her neck with his thick fingers. Some of the liquid got stuck. She coughed.

  Dean started toward her.

  She waved a hand. “I’m okay.”

  She twisted again on the stool. Against the wall were huge couches with oversized, dark blue cushions that seemed to invite her to sink into them. Two lamps. A giant entertainment center with huge speakers. A huge dining table with mismatched chairs. On the wall was another map of the town.

  She was seeing those everywhere right now.

  Dean must have seen her studying it. He said, “The map was on the wall when we moved in. Along with a few other things. We think this was the first house in Last Chance, an old military training facility that was abandoned somewhere in history. Probably the fifties or sixties. After mapping out t
he rest of the town, they all built their property and moved out.”

  “Wow.” She looked around more and saw a photo on the mantel. Ellie wandered to it. “Who are they?” Four men stood together, arms around each other. Dirty fatigues, sweat and black paint on their faces. All of them had huge rifles.

  “Echo Team. They live here, but they’re off on a job right now.” Dean said, “I met them in Afghanistan, and I told them about Last Chance. They moved here before I even got out of the Navy. Asked if I wanted to live with them, and with me came Ted. Stuart showed up a few months ago. Even though my brother lives here too, there’s still there’s room for another half dozen people at least, so we’ve let Pastor Daniels know that it’s available and to send any guys who need a place to stay our way.”

  “Like Maggie does with Hope Mansion?”

  Dean nodded. She set the photo down and picked up a gold Christmas ornament that sat beside it, completely out of place. He said, “A couple years back, a day before Christmas Eve, I get this call. An elderly lady had hurt herself, and she didn’t want to bother the police or EMTs. When I got there, I discovered she’d tried to take a heavy box of decorations down from a closet shelf. She’d lost her husband a few months before and this was her first Christmas without him. He’d always gotten the decorations down for her.”

  “Was it bad?”

  “A few bruises. I called the guys.” He waved a hand toward the photo. He was treading carefully, trying not to upset her. She felt like she was on a knife edge. But despite years of trying to forget what had happened to her, it was back at the forefront.

  She said, “Echo Team?”

  Dean continued, “They came over, hauled out the Christmas tree and set it all up. All the decorations. They even hung lights on the front of her house.”

  She wanted to smile, but it wasn’t there. When she tried to speak, the last words she thought she’d have said emerged. “He touched me.”

  Dean’s gaze lowered to her neck.

  “There was a group of them. It was a party, and I didn’t even want to go in the first place, but it was Homecoming night and my friend dragged me.” She thought of her former best friend, and how she hadn’t spoken to her since. Nor had she had a best friend since. “They…herded me into a bedroom and—”

  “Who?” He frowned. “When did this happen?”

  “Junior year.” She took a breath. “It was Ed Summers and a bunch of his friends.”

  Thunder rumbled across his expression. “They touched you?”

  Ellie closed her eyes and nodded. “When that guy grabbed me from the yard, Jess didn’t even notice.” Her breath hitched. She didn’t blame her sister—not the way she blamed her friend. “I saw his face.” Her stomach clenched painfully. “Then I blinked, and it wasn’t him. It was…”

  “Ed Summers.” Dean squeezed her hand. “Did he do more than touch you?”

  Ellie shook her head. “The cops raided the party. I shoved at one of them, and he shoved back. I hit my head on a shelf.” She lifted her fingers and massaged the spot on the back of her head. “The doctor had to staple it back together.”

  Dean hung his head.

  “My grandfather found me bleeding and crying.”

  When he lifted his gaze, he held his arms open. Ellie walked into his hug. Why did she feel so safe with him? “Thank you.”

  His chest rumbled. “If he wasn’t dead…”

  “I know.” She looked up at him. “Like I said. Thanks.”

  Ellie had never had a defender before. Her grandfather had been upset. He’d felt powerless to help since he hadn’t gotten there fast enough to prevent it. Dean felt just as deeply and was just as protective as her grandfather. But his strength was obvious, even when he had been hurt himself. It didn’t change who, and what, he was.

  Dean lowered his head and touched his lips to hers. A soft kiss of comfort and compassion. He didn’t pressure her, just kept it light. Sweet.

  Until the doorbell rang.

  Twenty-Seven

  Dean looked back just before he opened the door. Ellie had turned away, though, denying him a glance at her face. After that kiss, as light and short as it was, he felt the flush on his own cheeks. It had been a while since he was attracted to anyone. He’d about given up on the idea of finding someone before he could prove he was the man everyone thought he was.

  It turned out he just needed to wait for her to cross his path…in the process of her nearly being struck by a car.

  Things weren’t perfect, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. Ellie was everything he wanted in a woman. And he wanted the chance to help her through her pain, to support her. Protect her. He’d thought that would turn him off. That he wouldn’t want to feel like he was “working” with someone in a relationship. But with her, he was glad to do it.

  The doorbell rang again, followed by a knock on the door. He didn’t think he’d ever actually heard the bell ring before. It wasn’t like people just stopped by here.

  Dean hauled it open. On the porch, Doctor Gilane took half a step back. “Help you?”

  Beyond the doctor was the yard, then the doctor’s brand new BMW sport utility vehicle. Past that, Last Chance sprawled out in front of him, at the bottom of the hill. On either side, huge tall pines reached up for the sky.

  “Uh, yes. I was just seeing if Ellie needed anything. If I could help her at all.” He stammered a couple of the words but coughed to cover it.

  Nervous. The doctor’s normally perfectly-styled hair looked a little mussed. Like he’d been running his hands through it. He also hadn’t put on his gold watch. Had he been wearing it when he’d come over to treat Dean’s shoulder? He didn’t remember.

  The doctor took a step toward him.

  Dean acted surprised, as though this man he was supposed to trust had shocked him with this uncharacteristic behavior.

  Stuart was gone right now. Even Ted wasn’t here. He was on his own. If the doctor tried anything, Dean would have to deal with it himself.

  “Come in.” His tone was pretty sarcastic, considering the doctor had basically invited himself in.

  Dean moved ahead of him. When he got to the end of the hall where the open space began, he shifted and essentially barred the doctor’s entry. Given what Ellie had just told him, Dean wasn’t ready for anyone to be in her space right now.

  Sure, he was going to be super overprotective of her now. Enough had happened, and she’d been abducted last night. He still didn’t have the whole story about that. Until he’d settled, and she knew it would never happen again—as much as he could prevent it—they’d all just have to deal with him being antsy.

  Ellie stared up at the map on the wall. He’d never really even looked at it, and the idea it had drawn her attention for some reason made him want to get her to talk through it with him. But first, he’d have to get the doctor to leave.

  “As you can see, she’s fine.” Dean wasn’t, but the doctor wasn’t here to help him.

  “Yes. I see.” The doctor flashed him a bright smile…one that looked like it was about to crack.

  Dean wanted to ask the doctor what was going on and why it seemed like he was off. Dean normally respected this man, and in all these years, Dean had received nothing but approval from him. Like his unequivocal support for the therapy center. Now it was like he was seeing through the dissonant fragments Gilane usually held together so well.

  “Is everything okay?”

  The doctor opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, Ellie said, “Yes. Listen to me, Jess. I need you to come and look at this.”

  Dean glanced at her. She was on the phone with her sister. After the day she’d had, even with the rest she’d gotten, there was still so much to do. Jessica would probably head over soon to take her statement now she knew Ellie was awake.

  “I know. I’ll come and look at it soon. But I’m not—” She paused. “—quite ready to leave here yet.”

  Dean’s heart about melted. She felt safe her
e, and she wanted to stay longer. With him.

  “Okay. That sounds good.” Ellie hung up and turned. Her eyes widened and he shot her a look, as much of an apology over her finding them both staring at her as he could put into one expression.

  “Doctor Gilane.” She smiled but didn’t cross the room to them.

  “He was just checking on you.” Dean turned to the doctor.

  Ellie said, “Dean is taking good care of me.”

  The doctor shifted his stance. “That’s good. There are a number of complications that can occur as a result of smoke inhalation, and it can prove to be even more of a potential threat when you add in having been choked. Even for a minute.”

  “It was more than a minute.”

  “I’m very sorry for what happened, Eleanor.”

  She said, “It wasn’t your fault. Someone grabbed me. He shoved me against a tree and put his hands on my neck.”

  The doctor swallowed. “Like I said. I’m sorry about that.”

  Dean processed the fact that Ellie must have realized the same thing as he did about the doctor. That instinctual itch of an idea that something wasn’t right. Now it was as though she intended to test the doctor. To push him to a point where he would reveal his true colors and what was actually going on.

  “There’s no need to be. Dean found me, along with his brother and my sister. They made sure I was all right.” She lifted her chin.

  “If Ellie has any problems, I’ll drive her over to the emergency room.” Dean wouldn’t risk messing around. Not when a swollen windpipe could exacerbate itself later—even hours or days after it first occurred. That could turn deadly, fast. Just because something was off with the doctor didn’t mean he would chance putting Ellie’s life at risk.

  He didn’t have the means to intubate her here.

  “Yes.” The doctor nodded. “Of course.”

  “Howdy-ho!”

  They all spun around. The doctor was clearly nervous.

  Jessica strode down the hall, her wet hair pulled back and wearing her police uniform. Dean saw the doctor’s glance at her weapon. It made him want to go fetch his own from on top of the refrigerator and slide the holster onto his belt.