“Have any strangers been asking about him?”
“No sir. It’s been very quiet. Just me and Kendra and a doctor checking on a patient in another room.”
“Good. Where is X-ray?”
“It’s in the basement. Just follow the red line in the floor.”
Clay took both of Leah’s hands and turned her to face him. “Okay, sugar, you wait in his room. I’m going to go down to X-ray and check with Sam and the deputy. You’ll be perfectly safe,” he assured her when she drew in a breath to speak. “At least there’ll be a chair in there and you can sit down. Go. I’ll be back shortly.”
“What badge did you just show her?”
Clay snickered. ”A fake one. Works every time.”
She grinned back. “Sneaky much?”
He watched her walk toward the room before pressing the call button and stepping into the elevator.
Leah entered the cheerless hospital room, momentarily surprised that there were no flowers before remembering that none of her uncle’s friends or clients knew where he was. Most of them probably didn’t even know that he was in the hospital. After all, it had only been four days, although it certainly seemed more like four months.
As the familiar thickening of her throat heralded the onset of fresh tears, she headed toward the bathroom to get some toilet paper to wipe them with. As soon as she pushed the door open, she realized that the room was occupied by someone wearing green surgical scrubs. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, please excuse me, I didn’t realize—oh, my God! Richard!”
Her ex-husband was standing there bold as brass, sneering at her. “Hello, Princess.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Leah’s blood froze. Her stomach lurched and for a second, she thought she was going to throw up all over his shoes. “Richard!” she cried again, shock hoarsening her voice as she stumbled backward, practically falling out of the room. “H-how did you find me?” Her thoughts were frantic, twisted into a tangle knot. The only thing clear was Clay! Find Clay! I’ve got to find Clay! She turned to run, but Richard grabbed her arm, giving it a savage yank as he pulled her back into the tiny bathroom.
“You bitch!” His voice was a vicious hiss as she continued to struggle and flail against him. “You’re not getting away from me this time.” He grabbed her upper arms in a painful grip, thrusting his face right up against hers, showering her with his spit. “Do you have any idea how much trouble I’ve had to go to to find this dump? You took everything from me, bitch, and you’re going to pay! My job, my home, my boat—”
“Your boat?” Her voice was shrill. “Your boat? You’re going to kill me over a boat?”
His face was a twisted mask of hate. “It was a great boat!” he snarled. “A fan-fucking-tastic boat! I lost it all and it’s all your fault, you fucking bitch!”
“You did that to yourself, asshole,” she ground out, finally succeeding, with one last violent yank, in freeing one arm, She pushed hard against his chest, frantically trying to pull the other arm free as well. “You lost it all because you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants!”
“You cunt,” he gritted through clenched teeth. “You’re a fine one to talk, spreading your legs for every guy with a cock. Who’s that muscle-bound ape you been sniffing around like a two-dollar whore? You fucking him?”
“How dare you!” she cried, aghast. “I’m not the one who cheated. I’m not the one who flaunted my affairs and brought my lovers home to the bed I shared with my spouse. That was you, asshole! You have no one to blame but yourself!”
Planting her feet, she managed to unbalance him enough to free her arm. She stumbled out of the bathroom, but he was right behind her. As she turned to run, he caught her and pulled her back against him, flinging one arm around her neck, strangling her cry for help. “Oh, no, you don’t,” he grated in her ear. “The only place you’re going is with me. C’mon. We’re getting outta here.”
Frantic to drag air into her lungs, Leah began kicking his shins, reaching up over her head and clawing at his nose, his ears, his eyes, trying to inflict as much pain and damage as possible.
“Owwww! Son of a bitch!” His howl was as much outrage at her audacity to fight him as it was actual pain. “Goddamn it! You’re going to pay for that! Come on! They’ll be back any minute. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
She gave one last desperate tug on the arm cutting off her air supply, but it didn’t budge. He held her fast and her heart sank as blackness began to shimmer around the edges of her vision. Desolation swept through her. She was going to die here. Die at the hands of this madman who blamed her for all his troubles. Die with Clay, the man she loved with all her heart and soul, three floors below, not even aware that her life was slowly ebbing away. She closed her eyes. Oh, God, Clay! I love you so much. I’m sorry…so sorry…
“Walk,” Richard snarled in her ear. “Goddamn it, don’t make me carry you, you fucking tub of lard. Christ, why did I ever think you would be a suitable wife for me? You were nothing but a disappointment from the get-go. But I gritted my teeth and endured because the pay-off was going to be so big.” As he talked, he walked her rapidly toward the door. “You were supposed to inherit your fag uncle’s entire inheritance. Millions and millions of dollars that I was going to use to retire and live a life of luxury. The kind of life I deserve!”
“Oh, my God, what are you doing?” came a screeching voice. “How did you get in here?” The matronly nurse pushed through the door and practically skidded to a stop when she saw what was happening. “Let her go, you fucking asshole, you’re choking her!” She stuck her head back out the door and yelled down the hall. “Help! Somebody call security! Stat!”
When she turned back into the room, Richard just stood there, supporting a semi-conscious Leah with one arm around her neck, his other arm down by his side. The nurse ran toward him and grabbed the arm that was strangling Leah. “Let go of her, asshole!” she screeched, pulling frantically at his arm.
She didn’t see the knife. But she sure as hell felt it as Richard’s free arm sliced upward and embedded it to the hilt into her right side. She spun away from him, clutching at the bleeding wound in her side. “You bastard!’ she screamed. “You fucking bastard! Security! Security!”
Richard dropped Leah like a stone and stepped over her toward the nurse, who stumbled backward in a desperate attempt to reach the door. Grabbing the woman’s arm, he slung her toward the bed. She hit the metal side railing. Her limbs flailed wildly, blood spurted from the wound in her side, splattering all over the terrazzo floor. She slumped to the floor and lay there unmoving, blood oozing sluggishly from the hole in her side.
Leah, watching through slitted eyes, gasped at the violence of Richard’s moves. Still holding the bloody knife, he strode back over to her and grabbed her arm, giving it a vicious upward yank. “Stand up, bitch. I know you’re awake. C’mon. I’ve got a place all ready, where nobody will ever find you. I’m gonna tie you up and fuck you over and over in every hole you’ve got. That’s what you get for being such a frigid bitch! And then I’m gonna kill you slowly, so I can savor every moment it takes for you to die.”
Leah forced herself to remain limp and silent as he put his hands under her arms, trying every delaying tactic she could think of. She simply could not allow him to take her from this hospital or she would die a slow, horrible death and her body would never be found. She had to slow him down just enough to give Clay time to get to her.
Richard hefted her up, locking his arms just beneath her breasts to keep her from dropping back down to the floor. A steady stream of curses ground from his throat. He was still holding the bloody knife in his right hand and Leah knew he wouldn’t hesitate to stab her if he lost what little patience he had left. “Help me, God damn you!” he snarled in her ear. “Stand the fuck up! I know you’re awake! You’re too fat for me to carry. God, what a lardass you are!”
Half-carrying, half-dragging Leah’s dead weight, Richard managed to get her out of the room,
down the hall and into the stairwell without encountering anybody. He stopped on the landing. “Stand up, dammit,” he ground out.
She moved her legs beneath her and slowly straightened her knees.
“About damn time!” The arm around her throat did not budge one iota. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the blood coagulating on the blade of the knife. “Now, we are going down these stairs. You can either walk down or I can push you down, your choice.”
“I-I’ll walk.”
“Thought you might.” He released her so abruptly, her knees sagged and she had to grab hold of the metal hand rail to keep from falling. Her vision swam, her head felt like it was about to float away, but she battled to stay conscious. Fighting dizziness, she braced her hands on the railing, locked her elbows, and took a deep, cleansing breath.
“Quit stalling, damn you!” He gave her a vicious shove that nearly yanked her arms from their sockets. But if she hadn’t been holding on, she would have tumbled down the stairs. “Now, get a move on. And no more funny business.”
Holding onto the railing with both hands, Leah inched her cautious way down the stairs. Richard was right behind her, pushing against her body with his knees, muttering at her to hurry the fuck up, damn it.
“I’m going as fast as I can!” she snapped. But she began moving faster. When she reached the second-floor landing, she stopped, half turning toward him still one step above her. “Richard—I’m begging you, please don’t do this. Just leave me here and I promise I won’t tell anyone you were here.”
“You forget the dead nurse,” he jibed. “How are you going to explain her?”
“Please, Richard, think about this. Think about what you’re doing! You’ll be sent to prison!” You—Ahhhh!”
The cry was wrenched from her as he gave her a savage backhand across the face. Her entire head exploded in a white-hot burst of pain that streaked through her, sucking all the air from her lungs. For a second she didn’t think she would ever breathe again. Then she sucked in a huge gasping lungful of air and burst into sobs. “Oh, my God, Richard—”
He grabbed her by the throat and shoved his face into hers. “Shut up, bitch. I been planning this for a long time and nothing you say is gonna stop me. So shut up and keep moving. One more flight and we’ll be outta here.”
Sobbing, heart filled with despair, she turned to walk across the landing to the head of the next half-flight. But she simply couldn’t make herself step down. She would not let him take her.
“Move!” He gave her a shove in the small of her back.
“No.” She half turned to look at him out of eyes that were starting to swell shut. “This ends now. I am not going to help you carry out your perverted plans. You’ll either have to let me go or kill me right here.”
“Oh, yeah?” He brandished the knife and gave her another shove. One that was so vicious, she lost her grip on the hand rail. Horrified, she teetered on the edge of the top step. But she couldn’t regain her balance. Arms flailing helplessly, she went tumbling down the stairs to the next landing.
“Shit!” Richard ran down the steps after her. “Now, look what you’ve done, you clumsy cow! Get up,” he snapped. He reached down and grabbed her right arm, yanking her to her feet. “Get going. And be quick about it.”
Sobbing helplessly, she yanked her arm out of his brutal grip, taking mental inventory as she did so. She didn’t appear to have broken any bones. But she was pretty sure she’d dislocated her left shoulder. Her left arm dangled uselessly and the pain was excruciating. And she’d knocked her head against at least one of the steps, as well as the concrete landing. Her knees and elbows were scraped raw, and tomorrow she would be covered with bruises—assuming she even lived that long.
“Move, God damn you!”
“No!”
He grabbed her and pulled her back against him, holding the bloody knife blade to her throat. She could feel something dribbling down her neck and knew that it could only be blood, but wasn’t sure whose it was—the nurse’s? Or hers? “Then I guess I’ll just have to kill you right here.”
Her mind scrambled frantically as she tried to think of a way out of this. She wasn’t ready to die.
There were two simultaneous loud crashes, both above and below them, as the stairwell doors burst open.
“Let her go, Gordon, or you’re a dead man.” Clay stood on the second floor landing, his lethal-looking black pistol aimed straight down at Richard’s head.
Richard froze. A cry broke from Leah’s throat, but otherwise she didn’t move a muscle. The sharp blade was still poised a bare millimeter from her skin.
“Drop the knife, Gordon. Now!” That was the deep, rich baritone voice of Dr. Sam Norton. He was standing just inside the ground floor stairwell entrance, a similar black pistol aimed up at Richard. It was such an unexpected sight, Lean found herself wondering. When did doctors start carrying firearms in their medical bags?
“I mean it, Gordon!” Clay crouch-walked to the edge of the top step, just as Dr. Sam moved toward the bottom one.
“You have to the count of three,” Clay said, his face a stone mask, his voice blade sharp. “Release Leah or you’re dead. One.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
“Two.”
Richard’s bicep muscle twitched, but whatever he had been planning to do next never happened. Instantaneously two guns fired and two neat, black holes bloomed in Richard Gordon’s forehead. His head jerked back, then fell forward, sending blood and brain matter showering down all over Leah. The knife clattered to the concrete floor. Richard’s knees gave way, but before he could fall to the floor and take Leah down with him, Clay was sliding sideways on his butt down the hand rail. Just in time, he snatched her out of the dead man’s grip and hauled her up against him, unmindful of the blood and brains now splattered all in her hair and dripping down her face. She let out a cry of pain, threw her right arm around his neck, buried her face against the curve of his shoulder and burst into fresh sobs. “Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Omygodohmygodohmygod!”
Sam Norton sprinted up the stairs three at a time. Clay watched him as he hunkered down and checked Richard’s pulse. He looked up and shook his head. “I’ll go call Jesse,” he said, “and report this to the hospital administrator.” He ran back down the stairs.
At the sound of the door closing, Clay turned his full attention to Leah. “Shhh, baby, shhh. Shhh. Shhh.” Barely able to breathe through the constriction around his chest, Clay lifted one big hand to cradle the back of her head, pressing it against him. His heart was racing so fast it was a wonder he didn’t have a stroke. And all of a sudden, just like that, he was sobbing as hard as she was. Deep, gut-wrenching sobs that he tried to muffle against her shoulder. But they consumed him and the two of them stood for an eternity, just clinging to each other with a desperation that startled them both, even as they needed to reassure themselves they were still alive.
When he was finally able to get himself under control enough to speak, Clay lifted his head slightly, but still didn’t loosen his hold on her. He couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from her by even a nanometer. “Jesus, baby, I’ve never been so scared in my fuckin’ life! Christ, when we got to the room and found that nurse bleedin’ all over the floor and you gone, I thought—”He pressed his lips together, unable to continue. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! The sheer, icy terror that had swept through him had nearly crushed him. “It’s okay, baby,” he said, stroking her hair over and over, reassuring himself as much as her. He rocked her gently back and forth. “It’s okay. You’re safe. He’s dead. He’s dead.”
“He-he—the nurse—stabbed—she—”
“We know, baby, we know. We found her. She’s in surgery right now. Sam thinks she’s gonna be okay. The good thing is, Richard Gordon is never gonna hurt anybody again.”
The door on the lower landing opened and a man stepped into the stairwell, followed by Dr. Sam Norton.
“Dr. Stanhope, Mr. Nighthorse.” The man
climbed up the stairs and approached them, holding out his hand. Then, realizing that they weren’t going to let go of each other long enough to shake it, he let it fall back down to his side. “I’m Patrick Doyle, the hospital administrator.”
Leah managed to lift her head to blink tearfully at Patrick Doyle. He was a portly, gray-haired man, nattily dressed in a black suit, pale blue dress shirt and a red striped tie. “Please accept my sincerest apologies for the breach of security that allowed that man”—a wave of his hand indicated the lifeless body of Richard Gordon—“to enter this hospital. I don’t know how he got past my people, but I promise you, there will be a thorough investigation. I am devastated that you were forced to suffer this ordeal.” He looked at Clay. “Mr. Burke is awake and is asking for his niece. We’ve placed him in a suite on the fourth floor.”
“Is there someplace we can clean up first?” Clay asked, indicating the blood and tissue now all over both their clothes. “Maybe get a shower and some clean scrubs to wear? I don’t want her uncle to see her looking like this. And we need a doctor to look at her right away. She’s dislocated her shoulder and may have a concussion.”
“Of course. Just follow me.” Pulling out a walkie talkie, Patrick Doyle edged past the corpse on the landing and led them back up the stairs, talking softly into the device.
Leah stumbled along beside Clay, her left arm bent across her abdomen, supporting it with her right hand. More than anything Clay wished her could pick her up. But he knew that would cause her excruciating pain, so he just guided her with his hand at the small of her back, following the administrator into an unoccupied room. “The bathroom is fully stocked. Dr. Evans is on his way up. By the time you get out of the shower, your scrubs will be here.”
“Thanks, Doyle. Sorry about all the mess and commotion.”
“Not at all. Although, I must admit, that when Chief Colter first explained your situation, I thought he might be exaggerating a bit.”
Passion's Dream (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 1) Page 24