by Beth Rhodes
She started to squirm, but Tan gripped her harder. “Be quiet.”
Her breathing was starting to feel funny, though. And it was hot. Sweaty hot. And everything felt shaky. “How long has it been now?”
Tan walked directly to the front doors and opened them.
The cold hit her, hard, but it felt so good. When Tan set her feet down, her knees gave a little. “I need to sit down.” Her head felt like it was floating away.
Tan was on the phone again, and he talked to someone in a low, hurried voice. She tried to grab the phone. “Hello,” she said, loudly. “Maybe it was injectable Jack.” She giggled then. “Subcutaneous Sauvignon. A Black and Tan. Hey!” A funny feeling started in her stomach. “Tan,” she said, but it was more a quiet plea as a wave of nausea rode through her. “Help me, please.”
“I’m right here.” His arm around her shoulders, she leaned into him as he wiped her brow with the edge of his shirt and carefully dried her upper lip.
“I can’t stop shaking.”
“I’m sorry, Liz. Ambulance is almost here.”
“Am I going to die?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.”
The sound of sirens filled the air and lights flashed, and she tried, really tried to keep her eyes open, but it was like fighting a boa constrictor.
And he touched her face. “I got you,” he said before she succumbed.
~ 15 ~
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
The ambulance rolled to a safe stop at the entrance to the arena.
“Fuck.” He picked her up and carried her to the back of the van. Her head fell back and he repositioned her, lifting an elbow to support her neck.
“Liz!” Jay ran toward them, followed closely by Brad.
Guilt struck hard in his center. He’d been ready for anything. He thought he’d been ready for anything. Who could have known they were going to the arena? They’d been followed? Or, her attacker was closer than they thought.
Much. Closer.
The EMT directed him to lay her on the stretcher in the back.
“What happened?” Brad asked, direct and to-the-point, leaving Tan’s conscience swimming.
He pulled the wrapped syringe from his pocket and handed it carefully to the EMT. “She injected Liz with something. Liz fought back, didn’t go down until right before you pulled up. She was acting funny—drunk.”
The EMT took the syringe in a gloved hand. “Insulin syringe. Doesn’t mean it was filled with insulin.” He sniffed at the needle. “Smells like insulin, though.”
“It has a smell?” Brad stood with a hand on Liz’s foot, as if itching to get closer.
Tan stepped aside.
“I’m going with you,” Brad added.
An EMT stuck her with an IV, and the second one came in, picked up her hand, and pricked a finger with a small lancing device. He’d seen them a gazillion times through his time in the Army. He wasn’t a medic; rather, had been an MP for years. He wanted to go, wanted to see her safe at the hospital. But he had to take care of business here before he could follow. And he hated the feeling as Jay tugged on his arm and the doors closed.
Am I going to die?
“Shit. Shit. Shit.”
The ambulance pulled away, turned on its siren and lights, and fled out of the parking lot.
Tan turned back to the arena. Somewhere in there was a person who wanted Liz dead. And he’d let that person get by him. Someone, on his watch, had stuck a needle into Liz’s flesh and injected her with God-knows-what.
“It was insulin.”
Tan stopped short and whirled to Jay, who stood with his phone to his ear. “What?”
“They’ve been checking her sugar levels. She was under 40. Her body is already fighting it, they say.” Jay listened into his phone. “They’ve got her on a dextrose drip. She’s conscious.”
Just like the latest victim, like the one who’d been found, dumped in the park. “Is Liz okay?”
“Yes,” Jay answered shortly. “But they have to keep a close eye on her until the drug runs its course. They’ll keep her through the night, to be safe.”
Tan left Jay behind to go back to the scene of the crime. The arena security had the area cordoned off and the police had been called as well. He walked directly up to a woman who was obviously in charge. He took the syringe from his pocket. “Liz knocked this out of her attacker’s hand.”
The officer nodded to one of the people processing the crime scene, who came over with an evidence bag. The younger man took the syringe and dropped it into the bag.
“Thanks—”
“Tancredo Byrnes.” He held out a hand, and she lifted her own gloved hands in a sign of surrender…and don’t touch. “Right,” Tan said.
“So, tell me Mr. Byrnes. Did you see anything?”
Tan looked down the corridor, taking in faces as they came looking for a bathroom. He shook his head. “No. I waited outside. I should have gone in. I should have insisted. There was a large group of women who went in before her. They streamed out not even thirty seconds later, and I heard Liz struggling.” He scratched at his scalp. “I saw the window of opportunity but wanted to give her a little space. She hasn’t had much in the past week. No one knew we were going to be here—”
“Someone knew.” She tilted her head, her gaze piercing him.
“Yes.” Someone had known. Someone had also killed a woman using insulin a week ago. Hawk had told him, but he hadn’t told Liz. There’d been nothing connecting the crimes. Until now. “Will you contact Detective Fagen? He’ll be interested in making the connection between this incident and his murder investigation.”
The officer nodded.
Jay came up to his side. “I left a message for Michael. You ready to go?”
Tan’s focus narrowed—to family, to friends, to associates. Someone close to one of them moved to the top of his list of suspects…he merely had to figure out who.
“I’m ready to go. And I’m driving.”
Jay nodded and gestured as if an usher. “After you.”
***
She was weak as a kitten.
Her head pounded.
Thank God for her liver, apparently.
Her nerves hadn’t quite settled. Her thoughts still scattered like leaves on a windy fall day. She was missing something. Where was he? Her dad told her he was on his way. But that had been an hour ago.
How long did it take to get to the hospital from the arena?
And what if he decided she was too much trouble?
After tonight, she wasn’t sure she would ever feel safe again.
Liz wanted Tan.
She needed him like she didn’t have the right to need him.
There to protect her. She would never leave his side, ever again, even to go to the bathroom.
Never again.
The monitor next to her bed began beeping again.
“Calm down, Baby.” Her dad rested a hand on her arm, patted it. She tried to focus on him, but the shakes took over again.
“Test it again, please.”
Her dad sighed and then pushed the button for the nurses.
“How can I help you?” The kind voice came over the intercom.
“Could you please come and test my daughter’s blood glucose level? She’s feeling off again.”
The intercom beeped off.
“Is she coming, Dad?”
“She’ll come.” Two more pats and then he stood and walked around her bed to the window side.
She was probably annoying him. She should stop.
“Hey.” At the sound of Tan’s voice as he walked through the door, her entire world seemed to right. She had to blink, force those feelings of hysterical relief back into her psyche. They would think she was crazy, think she’d lost her cool. And then her dad would really go into over-protective mode.
He walked right up to her and put a hand on her face, tilting her head up so he could see. His knuckles brushed at the little bit of
bruising on her cheek. The tender gesture sliced through her and the guilt in his eyes stung like lemon juice. She wanted to say something like, “Don’t. Don’t leave. Don’t be guilty over this. Don’t take on the psycho actions of another human being.”
“Hello.” The nurse interrupted the reunion, and came to the wheeled table with her little basket of supplies, which she set down before looking up into Tan’s face with a smile. “Excuse me, dear.”
He moved down the bed to give her room, and then watched as the nurse pricked her finger.
“98, dear. Still stable and in the normal range.”
“I’m sorry,” she said as her heart fell. They’d told her what to expect, but she continued to have this lingering panic inside her. She couldn’t shake.
“Don’t be.” The nurse passed her a juice box. “Drink something. You’ll feel better, even if you don’t need it. The IVs should be doing all the work to maintain appropriate levels of electrolytes and sugars. The doctor ordered another round of blood work. And we’ll probably be able to let you go home first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Thank you.” She nodded, having heard the same thing from the last nurse. She really was sorry for being a pest. Her dad’s presence at the window kept her on edge. She knew he wanted to tighten her guard again. Only this time, she couldn’t blame him.
She caught his gaze. “Would you mind giving me a minute with Tan?”
The nurse left them.
“I’ll be right out in the hall,” her dad agreed.
But she stopped him. “Go talk to Maggie. Get some coffee or something to eat. Please.”
He didn’t want to leave her. He feared losing her, especially after they’d lost her mom. It was all part of this protective streak, sometimes, she had to fight. She hated fighting it, knowing how it brought him comfort.
He sighed and leaned over to kiss the top of her head. “I’ll be back later then. Maggie wants to come by, so I’ll bring her.”
“Thank you.” She watched him leave, noting the slower gait and…his age. Dang, when had he gotten old?
“Don’t even think about fighting me on this, Liz.”
“I’m not,” she said, sharply—almost yelling. And she bit her lip because she was too close to losing it on him. His brows rose, the surprise on his face making nerves flutter through her stomach. She took a deep breath. “What exactly would I be arguing about?”
Tan stood next to the bed, a funny, distant vibe radiating from him. His shoulders were back. His hands were clasped behind him. She’d never quite seen him looking so…military. So ready to take orders. Instead, she knew with a sinking feeling, he was about to give them.
“It’s time to close in the ranks, Liz.” His jaw flexed when he paused. “I know you want your independence. I’m willing to try to give you the illusion. But this incident changes things. I think you need to be in a safe house until—”
“Until we figure out what’s going on,” she finished for him, her throat closing on the emotions sitting in her gut. “How long?” she asked again, just to be ridiculously obstinate.
“Two weeks, four days, seven hours and thirty-seven minutes.”
“Is that all?” she asked, and then a tear slipped out. But she laughed, as it fell.
“No matter who it is, this person wants to hurt you.” He loosened his stance and pressed his hands into the bed next to her. And didn’t that make them pretty close? “Are you going to let it happen?”
She shook her head.
He wanted to touch her, she could see it in his eyes, but then he rose to his full height and cleared his throat. “Good. There’s a safe house near headquarters. And there will be a rotating guard—”
“What about you?”
He was talking as if he were leaving.
“Why can’t I stay at my place? And you could come stay with me—like I’ve had Jay there and you’ve been there during the days. Why are you pawning me off all of a sudden? I won’t be any trouble. Quiet as a mouse. I promise.” Two hours ago, she’d been mortified by his distance and wanted to run away and hide from the humiliation. Not now. “I know I made things awkward between us. I apologize. There won’t be any question about our roles. And I won’t fall all over myself, either. Sure, you’re good looking, but I’m not the client who will fall all over you. I’m not the client who is going to make an idiot of myself. Please.”
Tan cleared his throat. “I thought you would want someone else.”
“Why?” she said, again with the sharp voice, and blew out a breath to ease off on the bitchy she was exuding. “Why would I want someone else?”
“Tancredo Byrnes, you have failed this city,” he spoke in a deep, gravelly voice. Like the Arrow. He made a joke.
“Don’t you mean ‘Diggle, you have failed this city’?” she mimicked his Arrow voice. And found herself pleased he even watched the show.
Tan huffed out a breath on a laugh, and cleared his throat. “Are you serious?”
“Were you serious about how long it was going to be?”
He shook his head. “What I really want to do is take you to my place. I have security. I’m unlisted. No one would know where you are…” he hesitated again, and she hated he wasn’t being direct with her. As if what he said might change everything. “…not even your family.”
Her mouth went dry. Liz picked up the juicebox the nurse left. She stabbed the aluminum circle on top with the straw and then sucked it down. He was either fulfilling a lifetime fantasy…
Or scaring the crap out of her.
She hadn’t decided which yet.
~ 16 ~
“They worry too much.” Liz stated.
Tan sent a glance her way, with a slightly raised brow, in the darkened cab of the truck. “I didn’t say anything.”
She growled. “You don’t have to.”
“Your dad wants you safe. I explained to him my reasons for taking you off the radar.”
“You told him I would be staying at your place?”
He made a noise beside her, a grunt.
“You mean, yes?” She had a hard time believing it. Her dad was the epitome of over-protective…if he didn’t baulk over this. Well she’d have to think about that, about what it meant, and she took his silence for the ‘no’ it implied. “I’m safe with you,” she added, in Tan’s defense.
“I know,” he answered, calm as could be.
“Then what are we arguing about?” Her frown pressed her eyebrows together, causing the headache along the top of her forehead.
“I’m not arguing.”
“Damn it, Tan.” Did nothing rile him up…?
He didn’t slam on the breaks, but it was close. Riled? Liz peered out and found they were sitting in front of an older storefront on Moore Square. The old brick had faded with time but the wrought iron was dark and newly painted, which gave it an air of sophistication.
“Where—?”
“This is my place,” he started, turning in his seat to face her. “Okay?”
Heat rose on her neck and to her cheeks. His question felt like a test. Was she going to make a fuss?
She might have—yesterday. Because she hated being away from her work, away from what felt safe to her. “Okay,” she answered. Reaching into the backseat, she grabbed her purse.
He came around to open her door and reached a hand to help her down. “You feeling okay?”
“Yes.” She had a vaguely hungover feeling when she woke up this morning in her hospital bed. But the headache was receding and the cotton-mouth was almost gone as well. “By tomorrow, I’m sure it will all be a bad memory.”
With his hand at the small of her back, he led her around the building and down a half-flight of old brick stairs embedded below the sidewalk. The door at the bottom was solid. And it had the same security system he’d installed in her back door. Every step closer to being inside brought another degree of relief she hadn’t realized was missing. Her stomach eased, too, as she blew out a breath. “I like it so
far,” she said, turning back to look at him over her shoulder.
“No one will know you’re here,” he spoke, as if he could sense the change in her and wanted to reassure her. “Like I said, I’m unlisted, so it’s unlikely anyone looking for you would even know where to start. Until this is over, I would request—strongly—you let some of your independence go. At least, for the love of God,” his frustration broke through, “let’s get you out of your shop.”
“But—”
“Your work, the Expo. I know.” He leaned in, as if checking a peephole, put his hand on the same kind of palm scanner he’d installed at her place, and then opened the door.
She stopped before entering. “Please don’t tell me you have a retina scanner on your door.”
He laughed. “Good old-fashioned peep-hole.”
Turning as she crossed the threshold, she frowned. “It’s backwards? That’s creepy. People can see in.”
“I can see in.” Tan closed the door behind her and unclipped a round cover that was latched above the backwards peephole. It swung down, wagging like a pendulum for a moment before resting over the glass.
“A cover. Clever,” she said with a smile and took a deep breath. Closing her eyes, she focused on the scent, coating the air. Wood, walnut. She’d know the smell anywhere. All the years her dad would come home from the workshop covered in the fine dust of all the woods he’d used to make a table or a chair.
Opening her eyes, she followed the hardwood floor of the entryway into a small living room. A dark brown couch cut the room in half, and pillows were scattered—all colors in a rich fall color scheme, except for the splash of light blue. The walls were the same blue, the trim a dark rough cut wood. “Jiminy, Tan.”
It caught her off-guard, held her captive, and he’d moved right through as if the very essence of the place didn’t matter. She toed off her shoes, and heard his keys hit a hard surface in the room beyond. She walked back where he’d gone and found an office type of room. The basement apartment was far larger than she expected when they’d come down the steps to his door.