by Kris Norris
Must be a military thing. Being able to describe the surroundings so accurately. Seeing as both Russel and Kent didn’t have any problems giving her directions. Helping her visualize the space. Though, she hadn’t missed that Kent had remained quiet. While she knew he was still next to her, he’d vanished, again.
She swept the cane in front of her then stepped forward. The pole wasn’t quite the same feel, but it did the job, and she made it to the corner without banging into anything.
“Kitchen or living room, honey?”
She stopped and drew herself up. She suspected they wouldn’t like her request, but it beat spending the rest of the night wondering what Kent was thinking. If he’d told his buddy about her awkward play for him in the shower.
“Actually, I was thinking… It’s the middle of the night, and after everything that happened, the last thing any of you need is more drama. If one of you could just call me a cab, I’ll go to Carl’s place. I should have just asked Kent to drop me off there instead of coming here in the first place, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. And don’t worry. I’ll call my captain in the morning. I’m sure he’ll send a couple of officers over to check out my place—secure it. There’s no need for all of you to get involved. Especially if this turns out to be anything other than a simple burglary.”
Had Kent just growled? She wasn’t sure, but he’d made a noise that had sounded like his truck’s throaty engine revs. And had the room gotten colder? Which seemed strange because she’d always equated anger to heat, yet, it definitely felt colder, and there was no doubt Kent was angry. The energy around him had changed the moment she’d mentioned leaving—as if the molecules of air were moving faster. Banging into her at an increased rate. Which should have made her warmer instead of the shiver that raced down her spine.
Then, Kent’s hand clutched hers. “We’re not calling you a cab, and you’re not going to Carl’s. The guy was barely holding it together, earlier. No way he’s equipped to deal with any kind of threat against you. I promised I’d keep you safe, and letting you wander off, alone, after just fleeing your house because someone infiltrated it, isn’t a viable plan.”
He shuffled forward, the warmth of his body heating hers, and she suspected he was only a few inches away. “Besides, we both know this isn’t because you don’t want us to get involved. It’s because I acted like an utter ass in the bathroom. Please, sit down. We’ll talk. Figure out what’s going on because I find it hard to believe it’s a simple coincidence that someone showed up at your house only hours after you were nearly killed at the auction.”
She frowned. “I never asked you to protect me, and I don’t see how the two incidents could be connected.”
“I told you—it was a package deal. And I don’t go back on my promises. As for the two threats on your life… I don’t believe in coincidences. Not when they carry AKs and sneak into your house. This whole situation makes my skin tingle, and not in a good way.” He squeezed her hand. “Please, Addison. Stay. Maybe Russel can help shed some light into why you’re having flashes, now.”
She tugged on her hand, crossing her arms when he finally released her. “Don’t you mean flashbacks? That’s what you think they are. What my colleagues think. Memories of that night.”
“I never said they were flashbacks.”
“You didn’t have to. I’m blind, not deaf. I heard it in your voice. The concern. The hint of disbelief. I get it. I wouldn’t believe me, either. Not after spending eighteen months without any kind of sign that I was getting my sight back. All of this happening, now… Seems too much of a stretch to think you bumping into me would trigger it.”
Silence. Complete silence. None of them were breathing. Were moving. It was like another snapshot, only this one of an empty dark room. She hadn’t meant to reveal that last part. And now, all she could do was stand there and wait for the fallout.
A small swirl of air on her other side. Russel. “Your first flash was tonight when Rigs bumped into you? No wonder you’re so off-kilter. It’s obvious that after all that time, you’ve started adjusting. Honing your other senses. Having your body make those compensations then suddenly throwing sight back into the mix…” Russel whistled. “Talk about sensory overload. I’m impressed you haven’t been knocked on your ass by it. You’ve described them as snapshots. How long do they usually last?”
“It varies anywhere from a couple of seconds to maybe ten. Just long enough to freak me out. Make me dizzy.” She let her head bow forward as she toed at the floor. “That’s if they’re even real.”
“You saw me. Were able to put me in an arm lock.”
“Did I? Was it really you or did I just get lucky, and it was nothing more than a replay of some takedown I did years ago? Do you know how many guys I’ve had jump out of the shadows at me? And I’ve faced my share of gangs like at the auction. It’s part of working in narcotics. Raids are a norm. So, maybe everyone’s right. Maybe this is nothing more than my brain playing tricks on me. My own personal movie of my life’s work. Maybe I’m not regaining my sight. I thought it was real, but now…”
Russel squeezed her hand. “It’s real, Addison. The men I’ve rescued who’ve experienced these symptoms all feared the same thing. Not that I’m discounting the possibility that you’re also experiencing flashbacks. That’s a common symptom of PTSD. But these visual snapshots are definitely a good sign.”
“But…why now? And why is it so transient?”
“I’m not a doctor, but it sounds like it might be a survival mechanism. When you’re in danger, your self-preservation kicks in and overrides the hold your brain has. Allows the signals to get through—be interpreted.”
She snorted. “I hardly think Kent bumping into me put me in mortal danger. I’ve bumped into lots of things since I woke up.”
“I’m sure you have, but this was a person grabbing you from behind. Even though Rigs wasn’t going to hurt you, your cop instincts might have primed you to fight, and bam, you see. Then, you realize you’re okay, and it’s gone, again.”
Addison shifted on her feet, the weight of everyone watching her making her restless. “If that’s the case, then why the hell didn’t it kick in before Blade got shot? When that asshole grabbed me by the hair and said I was the one? When I heard the click of the bastard’s AK? Why didn’t my stupid survival instincts allow me to see when it would have actually done me some good?”
Movement. Kent closing any distance between them. “That guy grabbed you? Told you he was targeting you?”
A twinge of pain flared in her head. Stealing her breath for a second, before she narrowed in on Kent’s voice. He’d asked her a question, but it was suddenly hard to focus. “What?”
“You just said that the man Blade attacked grabbed you. That he said you were the one.”
Kill her, too…
She jerked her head to the side, searching for the echoed voice. “Who said that?”
Kent’s grip tightened. “Are you okay?”
She focused in his direction. “I…I’m sure I mentioned it before. When we were talking to the SWAT leader.”
“You never said anything about that creep grabbing you, first. Talking to you. I thought Blade went after him when he came around the corner at you.”
“You must have missed it. I’ve been giving reports for years. I don’t forget those kinds of details. I…”
The whole place is gonna blow. She won’t survive.
She twisted, again. Who the hell was talking? She didn’t sense anyone else there, but she’d definitely heard voices.
“Addison? Sweetheart, is something wrong?”
“No, I… It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything. Doesn’t explain why I can’t fucking see. Why I saw a man with a gun when you said no one was there.”
“Easy. We’ll figure it out. It’s all going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not.” She tugged free of his hand. “I can’t do anything. I can’t take a shower without nearly falling. I can’t
walk down a hallway without a damn makeshift cane. I can’t even remember important details. If I were half as strong as I think I am, I would have kicked this long ago.”
She took a few stumbling steps back, another stab of pain pounding through her temples. “Instead, I let my partner get shot. Put him at risk. If he hadn’t been focused on me, on my safety, on stopping the bleeding, he would have seen that bastard draw. And he’d still be alive.”
Hurried footsteps, then Kent gripped her arms, steadied her. “Blade is still alive. He was shot, not you.” He gave her a gentle tug. “Come on. I think you should sit down.”
“No.” She shook her head, pulled free, more images playing across her mind. “He never should have tried to save me. Turned his back on them. He didn’t have to die.”
A pulse of light and the room exploded into view. The glare from the iron wrought lamps on the brick walls. The two men standing in front of her, brows furrowed. Mouths pinched tight. Harlequin stood behind them, a curtain of auburn hair surrounding a pretty face. Both she and Russel had stunning green eyes, a noticeable contrast to Kent’s blue.
Then, the room switched. The brick turned to old slatted boards as the floor faded into worn linoleum. Smoke curled through the air, the ghostly echo of gunfire popping in the distance. A sweet fragrance surrounded her as a shadow moved into view, a dark hoodie obscuring the person’s face. Nothing visible but a flash of white teeth and the glint of a gun.
Another blur and she was on her knees, pain throbbing through her head. Making the room spin. She couldn’t talk. Could barely breathe. Voices sounded in the background. Men shouting. Shots ricocheting. Will pleading with her to hold on. Not to die. She saw his blood mix with hers. Felt the weight of his body crush her into the floor. Then darkness.
Chapter 11
“Addison!”
Kent went to his knees, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms as Ice followed him down. His buddy reached for her neck—checking her vitals, though all Kent saw was the pale hue of her skin. The painful grimace on her face as she faded into unconsciousness.
Ice sighed. “She’s okay. But let’s move her into the spare room, and I’ll do a quick evaluation, just to be sure.”
Kent bent over her, scooping her up then curling her into his chest. Her head fell against his shoulder, a soft groan nearly taking him back to his knees. Just thinking about her in pain constricted his chest. Made his vision dim at the edges.
He shuffled her closer, hoping his body heat would soothe any lingering images that might still be playing inside her head as he made his way down the hall, nudging open the door then marching over to the bed. He waited while Harlequin pulled back the sheets, then gently placed Addy on the mattress. He brushed her hair away from her face, stilling the need to cup her jaw. Draw his fingers along her skin and smooth out the crease between her brows.
Instead, he stepped back—let Russel take his place. His buddy placed a bag on the floor next to him, then took out some instruments, running through a variety of checks. Russel mentioned what each one was, but all Kent heard was the ghostly echo of Addy’s anguished cry as she fell to her knees, palming her head as if it might fly apart.
How many times had that been him? On his knees, memories looping through his mind. Sweat beading his body as he fought to find his way back—separate the past from the present. He didn’t know what demons haunted her, but after what she’d told him in the truck—the words she’d mumbled before passing out—he’d bet his ass she’d witnessed her partner die. That there was much more to that raid than a simple takedown gone wrong.
“Rigs.”
He blinked then focused on Ice. “Yeah.”
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You sure? I called your name a few times.”
He pursed his lips. “How’s Addison?”
Ice watched him for a few more seconds then motioned to Addy. “Her vitals are stable. Pupils equal and responsive. No obvious external wounds, and no evidence she sustained internal injuries tonight. Looks like she just passed out.”
“People don’t just pass out, Ice. We both know that. And it doesn’t’ take your level of training to recognize a damn flashback. Had enough of my own to know she wasn’t here with us when she went to her knees. Not to mention that she was obviously hearing voices.”
Ice sighed, checking Addy’s forehead one more time before rising. “Did you get a chance to ask her about this raid she keeps mentioning? The one that put her in the hospital. Blinded her.”
“Not yet. But she told me her partner died that night.”
“Shit. Which probably means she witnessed it.”
“I’m thinking there might be more to that night than a botched mission. The kind of memories that would put her on someone’s shit list should she ever recover them.”
“You still think these two incidents are connected, don’t you?”
“It was just a feeling before. But now? What better way to hide a murder than during a high-scale robbery? No one would have thought twice if she’d been killed.”
“But when she fights back…we step in, whoever’s behind this has to change tactics. Sends someone to her place to make it look like another burglary gone wrong. Only, you’re there…”
“Whatever it is, I can’t shake the feeling that this is just the beginning. That she’s being hunted.”
“That’s good enough for me. I’d bet my life on your intuition any day.” Russel gathered his supplies, picked up his bag then stepped back. “Any chance you were followed here?”
“Seriously? You’re asking me that?”
Russel chuckled. “Just being vigilant. Why don’t you get some rest? Addison needs to sleep, and there isn’t much we can do until morning. I’ll call Sam. And Hank. Thinking we could use some additional support.”
“You expect me to sleep? In a place I haven’t secured with probable tangos on my ass and Addison’s life on the line?”
“Kent. The loft is secure.” Russel held up his hand, cutting off Rigs. “I know you don’t see any building that isn’t wired to explode if someone breathes on the perimeter as being safe, but Harlequin had measures in place long before I came along. And I’ve added to them. We’re safe enough you can rest.”
Kent focused on Addison. At how still she looked lying beneath the sheets, her skin too close to the white hue of the linen. It didn’t take much to picture her dead, just like he’d done at the auction.
Russel’s hand landed on his shoulder. “I’ll personally stand watch.”
Kent snapped his attention to Ice’s. “You’re tired, too.”
“I didn’t have to fend off another attack. Worry about the woman I love more than once tonight.”
“I just met Addison. I don’t—”
“You do know it’s not polite to lie to my face, right? Because I’ve been where you are. And I’m man enough to admit Harlequin had me the moment she smiled. Just took my head a while to catch up with what my heart knew. Regardless, you watched over us when I needed a break. Now, it’s time to let me watch over you.”
Russel nudged him when he simply stood there, alternating his gaze between the two of them. “I bet Addy would appreciate the support. Even passed out, she’ll know you’re there. Will probably sleep better.”
Rigs chuckled. “I don’t recall you being this good at negotiating.”
“Have you met my wife? I have to use every skill at my disposal to win an argument.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just…” He sighed. “You’ll keep watch?”
“Promise.”
“I guess a few hours wouldn’t hurt.”
Russel smiled then slapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll check in later.”
Rigs waited until Ice had shut off lights and closed the door before stripping down to a tee and boxers. He considered losing the shirt, as well, but couldn’t get his hands to fist the hem—pull it over his head. Then, Addison groaned, and he rounded the be
d. The covers billowed up as he slipped beneath them, spooning into her back. She sighed then burrowed against him, shifting his hand off her hip and onto her rib cage before her fingers settled on top. Her heart kicked against his palm, the steady beat easing the tension in his muscles.
He closed his eyes, listening to the soft whisper of breath. The rustle of cloth as she moved beneath the blankets, rubbing against him, again, then drifting off. Her hair fell across his arm, the soft strands tickling his flesh. If he hadn’t freaked out in the shower, he’d know how the silky mass felt bunched in his hands. Wrapped around his fingers as he claimed her mouth. Tasted her skin. She’d offered him everything he’d been hoping for, only to have him bolt. Have his demons ruin the best thing to walk into his life since Ice had given it back to him.
Then, she’d wanted to leave. It had taken every ounce of Rigs’ training not to barricade the door. Hell, blow up the damn elevator shaft so she couldn’t put herself at risk. And all because he’d been an ass. Not that Rigs blamed her. He’d have done the same thing in her place. Gotten out of Ice’s loft as quickly as possible. Never looked back. But just the thought of her out there—alone—made him see red. He didn’t know what kind of danger she was in, but he was damn sure the attempts on her life wouldn’t stop until they’d either unearthed who wanted her dead, or the bastard had succeeded.
The thought had him pulling her tighter against his chest. Wrapping his arms more fully around her. Ice would guarantee no one snuck in while Rigs was sleeping. He had to trust in that. Get some rest while he had the chance because he wasn’t leaving her side until he could guarantee her safety.
A part of him suspected that day would never come. That the only way she’d remain safe was with him at her side. That he’d do everything in his power to stay right where he was—Addison nestled in his arms. And all he had to do was let her in. Let her see the real him, scars and all.
He groaned inwardly. He didn’t have a clue how to do that. How to push aside two years’ worth of conditioning. To quiet the voices in his head. Russel was right. Addy had obviously been through a lot. Had suffered similar trauma. Surely, she’d understand if Rigs just grew a set and explained. Allowed her to touch him…