There was silence on the other end. “Okay. I’ll let Hayden know and he can make the appropriate arrangements once he arrives.”
“Does anyone know who’s behind this?”
“No. Use caution. Don’t leave her unattended for long. And the Bronco?” There was a touch of appreciation in her voice. “I’d ditch it somewhere.”
“Will do.”
“I’ll call you back when I have details on Hayden’s arrival.”
I hung up and slid the phone into my back pocket. The Bronco was sitting in the parking lot of a Red Lobster down the street. I debated over taking it somewhere further away, but I didn’t want to leave Cadence alone that long. I was careful not to be seen by any video cameras or to allow the guy in the motel office to see which car I got into. It shouldn’t be traced back to us.
But there could always be something I overlooked.
In the end, though, I decided to leave it where it was. I ducked back into the room with Cadence, pulled the curtains tight and pushed the deadbolt into place. I checked on Cadence. Her forehead seemed cooler, but it was so hard to tell. I left her long enough to shower and change into the clean clothes I’d picked up at the Walmart on my first trip. I rinsed her clothes out in the sink, not sure why, but finishing what she’d started. I hung them up to dry, then went into the bedroom and climbed onto the bed beside her. And waited.
It was going to be a long night.
I must have drifted off sometime after dark because I woke with a start when Cadence moved against me, groans of pain slipping from her lips.
“Hey, babe,” I mumbled, touching her face in the dark. “It’s okay.”
“My shoulder hurts.”
“I know. You were shot and I had to sew it up.”
She moaned, not really awake, but not really asleep anymore, either. I flipped on the lamp beside the bed and touched her face again. She was still burning up, her cheeks red with the fever. It was time to do something more drastic than just crushing up Tylenol.
I went into the bathroom and filled the tub with lukewarm water. Then I untangled her from the bedspread and carried her into the bathroom, laying her carefully in the water. She hissed as the cool water touched her burning skin. But then she focused on me and I could see that she understood what I was trying to do.
“You should have told me.” I carefully cupped the water and poured it over her skin. “I could have helped you sooner.”
“You were driving. In a hurry.”
“I know, baby, but you’re more important. I could have done something.”
She shook her head. “Didn’t hurt. I didn’t know until later.”
I nodded. I understood that. Sometimes the men I served with in Afghanistan, they would suffer the most incredible wounds, but they wouldn’t feel them until the fight was over, until the adrenaline pumping through their bodies was spent. It was an odd phenomenon that kept some of them alive until they could get to a hospital where proper care waited.
She seemed cooler after a few minutes in the water. I got a bottle of wine and brought it to her, helping her sip the warm liquid in hopes that the alcohol would aid with the pain. She closed her eyes after every sip and sighed.
“Not the best. But it’ll have to do.”
She peeked at me. “Does this constitute our first date?”
I laughed. “Maybe. Wine. Romantic lighting. It just might be.”
She smiled, but then her entire body suddenly stiffened and her eyes rolled back into her head. She began to shake, the water splashing everywhere as her head slammed back against the porcelain again and again. I grabbed her shoulder, mindless of the bandage, and held her still, hoping to keep her from doing any more harm. When it was over, she was unconscious again, her breathing a little shallow.
I couldn’t just sit there and wait for Hayden to come find me. I had to get her some help.
I carried her back to the bed and dressed her carefully, constantly afraid she would begin to convulse again. I had no choice but to go get the Bronco. I knew from Megan’s warning that it was hot now—that the police were looking for it—but it was the only set of wheels in this area that I could hot wire. I drove it back to the motel, aware of the outdoor security cameras, and I quickly loaded Cadence into the front seat. I cleaned up the room as best as I could, getting rid of all evidence that we were there. Then I drove to the nearest emergency room.
And I lied.
“What happened to your wife, Mr. Rudolph?”
“She had a bad rotator cuff. The doctor’s said that it would need just a few little adjustments here and there, but I told her…the doctors in Mexico, well, that may not be the right place to do this. ‘But they’ll do it cheaper,’ she said. ‘They know what they’re doing.’ They clearly didn’t.”
They didn’t question it. How many times did they hear lies in the emergency room? It was an American pastime to tell lies. I was just hoping they wouldn’t recognize the wound as a bullet entrance and exit.
They took her into a trauma room and set up an IV. After the doctor came and examined her—more lies—they cleaned up the wound, sutured it properly, and injected antibiotics into her hip. She woke suddenly just as the nurse was wrapping a bandage around her shoulder.
“Where am I?”
“I’m here, babe,” I said, leaning over her. “You’re in the hospital, but you’re going to be okay.”
She stared at me for a minute, but then she lay back down, her eyes slowly sliding closed.
“The doctor wants to admit her for a few days,” the nurse said as she cleaned up her mess.
“Why?”
“To make sure the fever breaks. These things can get pretty serious pretty quickly.”
“Don’t I know it. But we don’t live in the area, we were just passing through.”
“I’m sure we can work it out with your insurance.”
“No insurance. I’m paying cash.”
“Well, either way, she needs to be observed.”
The nurse left. Cadence was still asleep. I slipped out of the room and went down the hall to the drug cart they’d left unattended. It was protected by an elaborate computer system that only allowed certain drawers to be opened at a time according to the needed medication. But the last user had forgotten to log out and hacking computer systems had been a hobby of mine since high school. I quickly manipulated the system, convincing it that there was an emergency that overrode its protocols. All the drawers popped open and I had my choice of what I wanted to take. I filled my pockets with antibiotics and opiates, and a few additional analgesics for good measure.
Cadence was sitting up when I walked back into the room, struggling to pull the blouse I’d bought for her at Walmart over her injured shoulder.
“Let me help.”
“I thought you’d want to get out of here when the nurse left.”
“You read my mind.”
I lifted her up and carried her, setting her in a wheelchair as we turned a corner in the corridor and heard voices come close. No one seemed to notice us or wonder what we were doing. Cadence jumped out of the chair the moment we were out of sight of the triage. We walked around the corner of the building, searching for a car that would suitable to become our next source of transportation.
“There,” Cadence said, pointing out a 1980s era pickup truck.
“Perfect.”
I hotwired the truck, loaded our things from the Bronco and we were on the highway in a matter of minutes.
“Now what?”
“We just keep moving.”
“Okay.”
Chapter 17
Cadence
I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. My shoulder felt as though someone had drilled a well into it, like those pump jacks that we could see scattered all along the barren landscape. My ribs ached, my back hurt. My thigh felt like I’d ripped out every one of the stitches they’d put in. I was nauseated and my head pounded. I wanted to curl up and sleep for a decade or two.
I moved close to Marcus and lay my head on his shoulder as we drove through the night, headed south again. He slid his arm around me and pulled me close to him.
“I’m going to make this okay for you, babe.”
“I know.”
He kissed the top of my head.
“I thought I was doing something wonderful when I agreed to be a surrogate for Blake and Annie. I never imagined it would bring me to this place.”
“It is a good thing you’re doing.”
“Do you think so?”
“I do.”
“And if I decide I don’t want to do it anymore when this is all over?”
“I don’t think anyone could blame you.”
“What if I go through with it?”
He glanced at me. “That’s your choice.”
“It wouldn’t bother you if I carried another man’s baby in my belly?”
He didn’t answer for a long time. He worked his hands on the steering wheel, squeezing and letting go, squeezing again.
“You were just hired to protect me. None of this means anything.”
“I never said that.”
“That’s what I hear when you don’t answer my questions.”
I sat up, my head spinning with the movement. And that made my stomach do unpleasant things.
“Pull over!”
I jumped out of the truck and managed to miss the tip of my shoes as I lost what little water and wine was still on my stomach. Marcus got out and came around to help me, pulling my hair out of the way.
“When the fever comes down, you’ll feel better.”
I leaned back into him. “Some first date.”
He swung me up into his arms. “The second will be even better.”
We drove till nearly dawn, and then pulled into a small motel several miles outside of Abilene. I think I slept for a good twelve hours. I don’t remember much besides Marcus forcing a couple of pills down my throat before I fell back onto the bed. But when I woke, Marcus was gone and I was alone in the dark.
I stumbled into the bathroom, my body hurting in ways I’d never experienced before. The dry heaves were back, but they passed fairly quickly. I caught sight of myself in the mirror and hardly recognized the woman I saw. I tried running my fingers through my hair, fixing it back at the base of my neck in a little knot, but it didn’t help much.
I carefully removed the bandage over my shoulder. Now that I was a little more coherent, I understood what had happened to me. The wound was showing a few signs of infection, but I assumed the pills Marcus had given me were antibiotics. And the shot at the hospital…that had done a great deal toward getting me back on the right road. It would be okay as long as I had those pills.
I checked my thigh, too. No signs of infection there. It was healing quite nicely, really. The stitches could probably come out in a day or two.
I was going to survive, assuming no one started shooting at me again.
I pulled on the jeans I’d been wearing the night before and stepped out the door. Marcus was there, leaning against the hood of another black SUV, two equally tall and tanned men standing near him, both so much like him that they could be brothers.
“Cadence,” he said, pushing away from the SUV and crossing to me. He started to touch me, but then stopped himself, clearly aware of our small audience. “My boss sent reinforcements.”
He turned, drawing me closer. “Hayden Dubois and Vincent Caplin.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” I inclined my head slightly.
The one he called Hayden did a little bow, smiling politely but curiously at me. The other just nodded, seeming uninterested even though his eyes were continuously moving around, checking things out.
“They’ve got access to a plane. We’ve been considering the possibility of flying you back to Houston so that you can get proper medical care.”
“I’m fine,” I said dismissively. “I just need those antibiotics.”
Marcus’ didn’t respond, but there was deep concern in his eyes.
“The thing is, Ms. Price,” Hayden began, “is that we can protect you better if we have you in a place we can defend easier. Moving around, staying in small motels, that’s great for hiding, not so great for defense.”
“You think the person who did this is still after me?”
“Yes.”
I laughed a little. “Don’t try to soften the blow.”
Hayden towered over me, his eyes moving slowly over the length of me, not in a sexual way but in an assessment sort of way.
“I don’t believe in beating around the bush. The truth is I think it’s dangerous for you to even be standing here right now. Someone clearly wants you dead and it’s our job to make sure that doesn’t happen.” He gestured toward the motel room door. “Why don’t you gather your stuff and we’ll get you to the airport.”
I glanced at Marcus, but he was trying hard not to look at me. I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself as I backed away.
I suddenly felt very dirty. I knew it was just a mental thing, but I couldn’t shake it. I undressed, peeled the dressing from my shoulder, and climbed into the shower. There was a teeny piece of soap provided by the management. I unwrapped it and scrubbed as roughly as it would allow. I was so lost in this need to be clean that I didn’t hear Marcus come into the room.
He slipped into the shower behind me and took the soap from my hands.
“Shouldn’t you be out there with them?”
“What?”
“Shouldn’t you be out there licking their boots? What if they knew you were in here with me? Would they make fun of you in the bodyguard locker room?”
He grabbed my face between both his hands and kissed me roughly, taking any more words I might have felt the need to give voice to. I couldn’t help myself. I immediately melted into his arms, moaning softly against his mouth.
“I was so frightened,” he whispered against my mouth. “You were so sick…”
“I’m okay.”
“You weren’t.”
I touched his face, slipped my hand over his jaw. “I’m okay.”
“I can’t lose anyone else, Cadence. I don’t think I could survive it.”
Before I could ask, demand to know more about him, he lifted me against the cold wall, our mouths seeking each other out again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers tangling themselves in his hair. He held my ass, his fingers kneading the soft flesh there, searching for that soft, tender spot that brought him so much pleasure, that offered me pleasure when he touched me just right.
We moved together slowly, taking our time. His mouth skimmed over my throat, my shoulder. He was conscious of my wounds, careful not to hurt me. But his hunger was overwhelming, his need rough. He filled me and we rocked against that wall, our moans swallowed by each other and the sound of the shower. It was intense, as always, but there was more to it this time. More in his touch, more in his need, my need. A desperation born of nearly dying in each other’s arms.
When it was over, we quietly washed up, neither of us prepared to talk about what was happening between us. In the bedroom, he opened a small duffle bag, revealing clothing Hayden and Vincent had brought for us. We dressed slowly, his eyes moving over me, mine over him. But, before long, we had no more excuses to avoid going out to where our escort was waiting.
I swallowed a couple more pills before we left, my stomach protesting the medicine on a stomach that had had nothing but a little wine on it in twenty-four hours. But I had more on my mind than hunger.
“Mr. Zimmerman will be waiting for you at the airport, Ms. Price,” Hayden told me as we drove out of the motel parking lot.
“In Houston?”
“Yes. He insisted.”
I glanced at Marcus, but neither of us said anything.
I had a decision to make. I knew the responsible thing to do would be to at least wait a full cycle before continuing with the surrogacy, and I intended to do that. But what then? Should I continue with thi
s plan? Was it a good idea? Did I really want to carry another man’s baby?
I’d asked Marcus what he thought and he’d never really answered me. Was I prepared to give all this up for something that might end the moment the danger ended?
I wasn’t sure. But I knew I wanted this to continue. I wanted Marcus in my life.
I was so lost in thought when we got to the airport that I almost didn’t realize the car had stopped until Vincent and Hayden were climbing out. I bent to pick up the plastic Walmart bag that held the medications Marcus had stolen for me when the side door suddenly burst open.
Light filled the inside of the dark car. But then Marcus was pulling me onto the floor and I realized the door hadn’t opened. The window had been blown out by a bullet.
“We have to get out of here,” Marcus hissed near my ear.
He reached back and opened the door behind him, scooting backward and pulling me with him. He fell onto the ground outside the car, pulling me down on top of him. I started to sit up, but he grabbed the back of my head and pulled me against his chest. We could hear the hiss of bullets smacking into the side of the SUV and the sharp report of an automatic weapon firing back. Two automatic weapons. Hayden and Vincent were firing at the shooter.
After a minute, Marcus set me on my hands and knees and led the way to the back of the vehicle. We could see Hayden and Vincent pinned down on the other side of the SUV, firing at the same point near a hangar on the far side of the airfield.
“Wait here,” Marcus whispered.
He was gone before I could respond. He ran to the driver’s side of the SUV, looking inside briefly. Then he was searching the area, clearly looking for another vehicle to steal. He came back for me a second later, grabbing my hand and leading the way across the runway to a small pickup left unattended in front of another hangar.
The keys, luckily, were in the console.
The only way out of the airport was the way we’d come. And that required driving right into the path of the shooter. Marcus pushed me down into the floorboards, throwing the truck into drive and pushing the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The small truck jumped forward, speeding across the smooth tarmac. I felt the bullets hit the side of the truck and felt every impact like it was hitting my body instead of the metal of the truck’s frame.
MARCUS (Dragon Security Book 4) Page 11