Rescue from Darkness

by Bonnie Vanak

  How long had it been since he’d talked about this? Never, he realized with a start. He wanted to make the words vanish, but they spilled out of him like water. He could not stop. Didn’t matter that he was losing it. Losing it in front of a woman he truly respected.

  A doctor, like the ones who’d turned into enemies that day. Doctors who failed to save Kasey. Couldn’t do anything.

  But he kept talking, spilling it out, feeling as if he was gonna puke if he held it in any longer.

  “Four weeks in the ICU, hooked up to those damn machines. Every day, every single day she was alive, I was there at her bed. Reading to her. Holding her hand. Talking to her. Praying, crying, begging. She never woke up. That smell...it got into my clothing, my hair. I’ll never forget it. Disinfectant. Bleach. Sickness.”

  Belle finally spoke in the darkness. “She never woke up.”

  Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, seeing Kasey’s pale, still face, her tiny head wrapped in bandages. “Irreversible brain damage. Trauma, they said, caused by the crash. She’d never live off the machines. They were doing everything for her.”

  “But you couldn’t let go.”

  Eyes flying open, he jerked his head in a violent nod. “Kept hoping and hoping. Until that day I knew there was no hope.”

  Belle sucked in a deep breath but said nothing.

  “She was just a baby,” he whispered. “They told me it was best to turn the machines off. I didn’t want to do it. I couldn’t. But there was another kid who was a perfect match. They wanted her heart. My baby’s heart. She was only two years old. I told them yes. There was nothing I could do to save her. I was her father. I should have saved her.”

  Belle said nothing, only held out her arms.

  She held him close as he finally surrendered to the grief raging through him. Kyle cried. He didn’t care that he was sobbing like a child in the parking lot of a hospital and he had a job to do, a child to find, a case to complete. His breath came out in great, hitching sobs as she stroked his back and let him cry.

  After a few minutes, he finally pulled away. Reached for the handkerchief he’d always carried, and the coin in his pocket flew out. It made a tinkling sound as it hit the dashboard and then fell to the floor.

  Belle picked it up and handed it to him after he wiped his eyes and blew his nose.

  “This was hers.”

  He pocketed the coin, stuffed the soggy linen back into his trouser pocket. “Yeah. I used to do magic tricks with it. We kept it on her dresser where it was too high for her to reach. Every night she insisted on a magic trick with her purty shiny.”

  His mouth twitched in a ghostlike smile. “Kasey used to clap and squeal every time. Same stupid trick, but she loved it.”

  “Because her daddy did it, it was magic,” Belle whispered. “She loved you, Kyle. And you loved her dearly. It was an accident. There was nothing you could have done.”

  He’d spilled his guts to her. In that moment, Kyle had never felt more vulnerable, and yet no longer alone.

  In that moment, he only wanted to purge the memories and lose himself.

  Kyle pulled her into his arms and kissed her with all the ferocity of emotions penned up far too long. He kissed her as if she were a lifeline and he a dying man adrift on the sea. His mouth moved over hers as she sighed. So sweet, warm, pliant. He kept kissing her, feeling desire and need vibrate with every bone in his body.

  When he finally released her, kissing the corner of her sweet mouth, his heart pounded and his body thrummed.

  More. Damn, he needed more.

  “I’m here for you if you need me. If you don’t want to be alone tonight,” she whispered.

  Sex with her would be incredible. He knew it with every cell in his body. Combustible.

  It wouldn’t be fair because he couldn’t offer her everything she needed right now. Belle North deserved more than a one-night stand. She was the kind of woman you stuck with for a long time.

  Belle touched his arm. Kyle turned away, switched on the ignition.

  “I’ll drive you home. I have to get back to the office.”

  It was too intense. Too much. He needed to retreat into the safe, familiar world of his work.

  But as they pulled out of the hospital parking lot, he felt his guts ache once more. Not only for what he’d lost years ago.

  But for what he wasn’t willing to take what she offered with open arms.

  Chapter 18

  The kiss the other night had been everything she’d anticipated, and everything she longed for.

  And yet Kyle had backed off. In a way she understood. He needed space.

  So she gave it to him and, over the past two days, didn’t even contact him except to text to see if there were any more updates on the case. Or if Rosa finally talked.

  His brief answers told her the basics, but little else. No emotion.

  That night after a long day at the cardiology office, Belle looked forward to a swim in the pool.

  As she unlocked the front door and dropped her bag onto a nearby chair, Boo ran into the foyer to greet her. Tail wagging, the little dog circled around her.

  “Hey, sweetie.” Belle picked up her pet, buried her face into the soft fur. “I’ve missed you.”

  The past two days had been pure hell. Everyone kept side-eyeing her, as if she were personally responsible for Anna’s disappearance and Mike’s death. Her own doubts about Kyle and her intensified feelings for him.

  It felt as if she’d been riding on a roller coaster.

  “Let’s find you some dinner and find me some tasty adult beverages,” she told her dog.

  Boo’s tail beat the air harder in agreement.

  A while later, clad in a black one-piece bathing suit, she did her laps as Boo chowed down on kibble on the lanai. A bottle of chardonnay chilled in the outdoor kitchen, along with her favorite wineglass. Belle pushed herself to do another ten laps. Tired as she was, she needed the exercise to de-stress.

  Gliding through the warm water, she kicked harder, thinking of Anna.

  When she left the pool and dried off, a cool breeze blew from the east. Belle donned a cute cotton crochet tunic. She fished the wine out of the refrigerator, uncorked it and did a long pour. She took a tentative sip, and then another.

  Delicious.

  A loud barking distracted her as she headed for the sofa and chairs arranged around an outdoor wicker table. Neighbor walking the dog next door, which she’d privately nicknamed Space Doggie for its hairless look. Boo dashed past her and headed for the side yard.

  Alarm shot through her as she set down her wineglass and followed. The gate stood open.

  “Boo!”

  Belle rushed after the dog, scooped him up. Holding the squirming pup, she frowned.

  Odd. She never left that gate open.

  A prickling began on her nape.

  Judy—her pet sitter, who fed and walked Boo during the day—had her own key. Judy knew the gate was finicky and could swing open on a windy day. She also knew of the shared animosity between Boo and the Chinese crested next door and how Boo would bolt and challenge the other dog as it passed by on the sidewalk.

  Belle pushed at the gate. It didn’t close, so she marched with Boo in her arms back to the lanai to put him in the house. As she reached the outdoor sofa, a bout of dizziness made her stumble.

  Barely dropping Boo safely on the sofa, she fought the lassitude in her arms and legs, the incredible drunken feeling.

  It made no sense. Although she’d not eaten lunch and drank on an empty stomach, she’d barely touched the wine.

  If I were out partying with friends, I’d swear someone slipped something into my wine.

  The prickling in her nape intensified. Belle staggered to the counter, picked up the wine cork, sniffed it.

  Nothing.

  But she
knew something was terribly wrong. Belle stumbled to her phone and dialed Kyle’s number.

  “Help me,” she whispered. “I’m home.”

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadow move, and then pain exploded in her head. Belle screamed.

  Grayness clouded the edges of her vision, and then the darkness rushed up to claim her.

  * * *

  He would get the son of a bitch who did this.

  Someone attacked Belle in broad daylight. Someone was either desperate or confident. Or both.

  Good thing she had neighbors who kept watch.

  Kyle swore under his breath as he tried to keep Belle from sitting up.

  “Easy,” he soothed. “You’re safe now.”

  Lying on the outdoor sofa where she’d collapsed, she tried to sit up again, but he put his hands on her shoulders.

  “You’ve got a goose egg, but you should be fine.” Kyle bit back his raging temper that wanted to find the bastard who did this to her and haul him away in handcuffs.

  “Your neighbor was walking her dog and heard you scream. She rushed in here with her pepper spray and scared the perp away. Said he climbed over the fence and ran into the woods. Good thing the gate was open.”

  Groaning, she put a hand to her face. “Gate was supposed to be locked. Always locked. Someone broke inside.”

  “Can you remember anything else?” he asked.

  “The wine...it was spiked with something.” Belle frowned. “Odorless. Tasteless. Ketamine, I think. Or Rohypnol. Made me dizzy. I only had a couple of sips.”

  The lab would process the glass and the wine. Already, the team had dusted for prints, but Kyle doubted they’d find anything relevant. “Whoever did this was a pro.”

  Belle rubbed the back of her head. “Whoever did this certainly doesn’t want me around anymore. Or asking any more questions.”

  “Could have been a hired gun.” Kyle uncapped the water, held it up for her. “Drink.”

  She sipped the warm water.

  “Where does one hire a gun these days?” she asked. “And how does such a person advertise their services? Take out a newspaper ad? Fly a banner over the beach in an airplane?”

  Humor helped her in the past, but this wasn’t a laughing matter. Damn, ever since the other night’s kiss, he’d done nothing but think of her.

  Twice he’d been tempted to call her. He needed to see her. But not like this...

  “Maybe I can hire my own hit man to take out their hit man.”

  He liked her sense of humor. So calming. Kyle gripped her hands as the medics finished up.

  “She’s fine. Should go to the hospital for a CT scan, just in case of concussion,” one advised.

  Belle shook her head. “I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt much. I passed out from the drug more than anything. I need food, not a hospital.”

  “There’s a chance whoever did this will return. You’re not staying here alone,” Roarke decided. “Is there a family member in town you can stay with for a few days?”

  “My brother, but I don’t want to stay with him. And I don’t want to leave Boo alone here.” She shivered. “Let me call my cousin. She can take care of Boo.”

  Belle thanked the medics and looked at Kyle. “I can stay with Clint, but I’d rather not. He’ll never stop pestering and worrying. I can find a motel.”

  The hell with that. No way would he allow her to be that vulnerable.

  “No. You’re coming home with me.” Kyle decided for her. “Soon as you feel better, pack a bag and we’re leaving.”

  Chapter 19

  On the drive to his house, Kyle updated her on the case’s progress. They had interviewed Rosa’s friends who lived in the same trailer park and had a tomato-and-cucumber stand at the local farmer’s market. The three women had worked with Rosa cleaning houses but offered little information.

  His cell rang as he drove. Kyle listened, thanked the person and hung up. “Good news. We have a fresh lead on Jesse Dugin. He’s the bastard who did this to you.” Kyle pulled into the driveway. “His prints were on your mini fridge. Don’t worry. We’ll catch him.”

  Belle exhaled with relief as she walked into Kyle’s house. Though it was a showpiece, the house made her feel safe. Most likely it was the man closing and locking the door behind her and gesturing to the living room.

  “Make yourself at home. I’ll put your suitcase in the guest room.”

  When he emerged from the hallway, Kyle tugged at his tie, removed his jacket, hung it over a kitchen chair and then kicked off his leather loafers. Belle laughed.

  “I knew it.”

  His brows arched. “Knew what?”

  “That you were the type to kick off your shoes soon as you came home.”

  The grin he flashed made him look younger, more boyish. “Stick with me, Doc. I’m all about kicking back and relaxing once I go through those doors.”

  She doubted it, though. Kyle worked hard and, like her, he let cases push beneath his external barriers. For most people, work ended at quitting time.

  For Kyle and her, the work followed them home.

  “Do you ever truly relax when you’re on a case?” Belle removed her own shoes, placed them neatly by the door and went to the sofa, curling her legs beneath her. “Can you ever let go of it?”

  After removing his tie and draping it over his suit jacket, he joined her on the sofa. “Not really. Not when I’m working a case. I’ll try to take breaks, but it sticks with me. Sometimes I’ll work on something else while I’m home and an idea will come to mind, a lead I never considered. So it’s back to work.”

  Intrigued, she leaned back, studying him. “And what else do you work on while you’re here? Another case?”

  “Sometimes. Or I’ll do chores, or indulge in playing.”

  He pointed to the baby grand piano in the living room’s corner. More surprises. “Yours?”

  “Came with the house, but the twelve years of lessons are all mine.”

  “Please play for me. I adore music, but my piano lessons always resulted in bribing the teacher to let me go to my room and study.” She made a face. “You’d be surprised how far fifteen dollars and a pack of gum can go.”

  Kyle laughed. “Such a serious student, even then.” He inched closer, touched her temple. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine. It was just a little bruise. Nothing big.”

  His big hand curled around her neck, massaging it. “That better?”

  Unable to speak, she nodded, closing her eyes. He had amazing hands, kneading all the tension from her neck and sore shoulder. When she opened them, he had an intense look. Hungry.

  Sexual.

  Abruptly, he pulled away and went to the piano. “Classical okay with you?”

  “Fine.” But I’d rather you remain here on the sofa with me. Maybe you could massage something other than my neck?

  Disappointment and need arrowed through her. Maybe it wasn’t right, feeling something like this for a man utterly focused on saving a little girl’s life. But time after time she’d shuttled aside her own needs to cater to the demands of others. Even her college boyfriend, who’d wanted her for sex and to show off at parties, hadn’t truly considered what she wanted.

  Time to please yourself, she urged herself.

  Fingers rippling over the keys, Kyle played Chopin’s “Raindrop Prelude.” Head bent over the piano, he seemed to surrender to the music. Absorbed by the beauty he created, she closed her eyes, time and space vanishing. She was back in childhood, listening to her mother play the piano as Belle curled up on the sofa, home sick from school. It had been storming outside, droplets splashing against the windows and the intensity of the piece echoed the splatter of rain and the howl of the wind.

  And yet she’d never felt more secure, more loved, because her mother had taken an
entire precious day to stay home and care for her.

  When the piece ended, she applauded. Kyle made a little bow.

  “You’re quite good.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe I’ll never play at Carnegie Hall, but at one point, I had considered a career in music.”

  More surprises from this man, who had so many deep layers to him. “That’s a one-eighty from the FBI academy. What happened?”

  Another shrug. “Music isn’t my life. I enjoy it, but it’s not my true passion.”

  “Saving lives is.”

  How well she understood this. Medicine was hers, a passion that some might claim bordered on obsession. Yet she never considered doing anything else with her life.

  Kyle rubbed the back of his neck. “I do what I can.”

  Belle joined him at the piano. “Is that why you have this?” She touched the lock of gray.

  He nodded. “Got it five years ago after a grueling case. We spent weeks on it...and after, it aged me.”

  “What compelled you to have this kind of life?”

  He nodded slowly. “Yeah, you understand. It’s not merely a job. It is a life. It becomes consuming at times, so much that you lose all sense of time and place until that case is resolved...”

  “Or that patient is healed.”

  He gave her a long, thoughtful look. “I joined the academy because I have a simple sense of justice and right and wrong. Not black-and-white. Nothing is truly black-and-white. The world’s a crazy place, Belle. You and I both know it. But if I can make a small difference, either bring a child safely home to a parent crazed with fear, or give them the information they need to begin the process of grieving and letting go, then it’s worth all of it.”

  He depressed a key, making a tiny plinking sound. “I used to think of myself as a hero in a red cape, saving the day, until I realized one day that my zeal made me neglect, and eventually lose, what was most important.”

  Belle sat on the piano bench and touched his hand. “The accident wasn’t your fault, Kyle.”

  Then, because it needed to be said, she added, “Kasey’s death wasn’t the doctors’ fault, either. Bad things just happen, no matter how hard you try to prevent them. Or how much you work to save a life.”