Mom? Dad? She thought she’d heard them earlier, their voices wavering as if they’d been crying, but hadn’t been able to find them to comfort them. Her whole body hurt from the tips of her hair to her toenails. She couldn’t remember ever being in so much pain. A constant buzzing sounded in her brain and she wanted to push her way through the fog swirling around her.
Where am I? A shiver of fear coursed through her. She tried to move her arms and legs, her fight and flight instincts clamoring a warning, but she couldn’t move. Oh God! He has me again! No, no, no! How did he catch me again? I have to escape! I have to! Wait . . . whose voices are those? Not his. No, I know who he is, but neither of those voices are his. I have to warn them. We have to get out of here before he comes back! Help! We have to run! Somebody help me!
Her breathing and heart rate increased as she tried to figure out how to escape. She didn’t want to be his next victim. There was so much more she wanted to do with her life. She wanted to travel, find a great guy, one far better than her ex-husband, and have kids . . . but most of all, she just wanted to live to a ripe old age and have no regrets when her time came. It wasn’t his right to take all that from her and she’d be damned if she didn’t fight him for it. Find a way . . . find a way to live!
An antiseptic smell penetrated her nose, combined with a hint of . . . cologne? It was familiar but she couldn’t place it. The rich sandalwood scent enveloped her, bringing with it a bit of hope. Whoever was wearing it was someone she could trust . . . someone she just knew would keep her safe. If only she could find the source. She needed a hero to ride up on his gallant white steed and rescue her—but that only happened in books. And she was never one to sit back and wait for a savior—she would fight to her last breathe to save herself—but of course she wouldn’t refuse any help along the way. First thing she had to do though, was find a light . . . wait! There it is . . . just beyond my reach. C’mon, damn it! Reach for it! It’s the only way out! Do it!
The sound of the hospital room door opening had Tiny waking in an instant, his hand reaching for the gun on his hip, but he relaxed when Special Agent Nikita Novik strode in, looking as gorgeous as the first time he’d seen her at The Covenant. However, instead of the casual clothes, today she was in a standard, professional, dark suit which still couldn’t hide her luscious curves—or the fact she was packing heat in a shoulder holster under the jacket. “How’s she doing?”
“No change,” he replied, wiping the last of the sleep from his eyes. He’d been at Georgia’s side for almost the entire time since she’d been out of surgery—only taking time off to go home and shower before returning. The Sawyer brothers had arranged for a large, private suite in the hospital for the submissive—complete with a couch, recliners, and refrigerator—so at least Tiny was comfortable; it helped they made considerable donations to the facility every year. The doctors had relieved the pressure on the Georgia’s brain but couldn’t say when or if she would wake up. Each day that passed, he grew more worried she would never recover. While there were FBI agents rotating shifts outside the room, Tiny had been granted permission to also stand guard. Aside from members of law enforcement and Trident Security, Georgia’s brother and parents, and medical personal, no one else was allowed in to see her. Mr. and Mrs. Branneth had arrived in Tampa late last night and, after visiting the hospital, had gone with their son to a nearby hotel where Colleen had booked them rooms for the duration of their stay. They’d probably be returning in a few hours.
“Excuse me for saying, but you look like hell.”
He grunted as he flipped the handle of the recliner he’d been sleeping in, returning it to an upright position, noting it was still dark outside the window. “Probably because that’s how I feel. What time is it?”
“Oh-two-hundred.” Her gaze softened. “It’s not your fault, Travis.”
She’d asked him what his full name was, after he’d returned from giving his report at the FBI building, and was the only person, other than his mother, who called him Travis in recent years. He refused to examine her reasoning too closely—there were far too many other things on his mind at the moment. “Yeah, it is. I should have searched the interior of the house. I should have checked under the bed and opened every closet before—”
The agent held up her hand to stop his recap of everything he’d failed to do. “We have no idea if he was already in the house when she got home or if he gained access afterward.” Stepping closer, she frowned at him as she crossed her arms over her chest. “And who knows, maybe he would have shot or stabbed you if you’d gone in and found him there. You’re not invincible and have to stop kicking your own ass over this. Sometimes bad things happen to good people. I see it all the—”
Her words were cut off when the EKG monitor attached to Georgia began beeping faster and louder. Tiny leaped to his feet and rushed over. “Georgia, honey, it’s Tiny. Can you hear me?” She couldn’t verbally answer him with the tube down her throat, which was hooked up to a ventilator to help her breath, but she’d definitely heard him as her head turned toward him. Her wrists fought the restraints tying her arms down, and he lay a reassuring hand on the one closest to him. “Georgia, sweetheart, you’re okay. You’re at the hospital and you’re safe. If you can hear me, open your eyes.”
The door to the room swung open and two nurses hurried in. While one of the nurses silenced the annoying monitor, the other pulled out a penlight and shined it in her patient’s eyes. Georgia winced and tried unsuccessfully to get away from the bright light. She blinked a few times and tried to lift her hands toward the tube in her mouth. “Georgia, I’m your nurse, Teresa. You have a tube down your throat helping you to breathe so just relax. Can you blink if you understand me?”
She stilled, then to Tiny’s relief, she blinked her eyes several times, even though her gaze was unfocused. The nurse patted her arm. “Excellent. Diane, can you call the surgeon and see if we can have a respiratory therapist remove the tube?” The other nurse nodded and left the room. “Georgia, we’ll get the tube out as soon as we can. In the meantime, can you squeeze my hand?”
While the nurse continued her command-and-response examination, Tiny stepped back and pulled out his phone, quickly shooting off a group text to Ian, Devon, and Mitch. As he was typing, a soft, ivory hand touched his dark arm and he lifted his gaze to Nikita’s. “I’m glad your friend is going to be okay, Travis.”
The corners of his mouth ticked upward. “Thanks. So am I. Now I just hope she can tell us who the hell did this to her so I can go kill the mother-fucker. Excuse my language but there’s no other way I can think of describing him.”
“I agree with the mother-F, but as for the other part . . .” She grinned. “Well, actually, I didn’t hear anything after ‘So am I.’ You know, just in case I’m asked about it if the guy turns up dead.”
Well, damn, he was beginning to like Special Agent Nikita Novik more and more. He was about to do something stupid, like ask her out in the middle of her case, but his phone rang. Ian and his bloody timing strikes again.
Having rolled out of bed after receiving Tiny’s text and then speaking to him on the phone, Ian and Devon burst into the private hospital suite, anxious to see that The Covenant submissive was indeed awake and on the road to recovery. They also hoped she’d be able to give them information about her kidnapper. In addition to Tiny, Mitch, Agent Novik, SAC Parrish, and Georgia’s parents and brother, her surgeon, nurse, and a respiratory therapist were present. Even though it was one of the biggest rooms in the hospital, with that many people, it was a tight fit. They were all waiting on pins and needles for the man in blue scrubs to remove the patient’s breathing tube. Georgia was clearly uncomfortable and wanted the thing out as soon as possible. After using a syringe to deflate the small balloon around the plastic tube, which was holding it in place, the therapist gently pulled the entire thing from her throat.
Standing at the end of the bed, Mr. Branneth touched his daughter’s foot through her blanket a
s his arm was wrapped around his wife’s shoulders. Happy and relieved tears stained the older woman’s cheeks. They’d have plenty of time to comfort and pamper her with love after Ian and the others had the information they hoped she could provide. Ian was sure they’d be talking about a lot of other things too. As a cop, it hadn’t taken rocket science for her brother to figure out she’d been kidnapped by the serial killer targeting submissives; something he hadn’t known about his sister. Neither had her parents. The Covenant Doms would do what they could to help her explain everything to them, if she needed it. Finding out your sister or daughter was into BDSM wasn’t something most people wanted to hear if they didn’t understand the lifestyle. But stopping the bastard who was most likely planning to take someone else very soon was top priority at the moment.
Georgia winced and coughed as the tube slid from her mouth. The nurse held a small plastic cup with water to her lips. “Just take a sip to wet your tongue and throat.”
Doing as she was told, Georgia coughed a few more times as she tried to get her voice working again. “What—what happened?” she rasped harshly, her gaze going from one person to the next.
As the nurse moved away, Parrish stepped into the space she’d occupied near the patient’s head. “Georgia, I’m Special Agent in Charge Cole Parrish. Can you tell us what you remember?”
She frowned. “I—I don’t know—” Her words were cut off as her eyes widened in fear. It was evident something had popped into her mind. Something that scared the fucking hell out of her.
Ian reached for her hand the respiratory therapist had freed moments earlier, and squeezed, then tried to keep the urgency from his voice. “It’s okay, little one. You’re safe among your family and friends. I swear no one will hurt you. Tell us what happened. Do you know who took you?” God, please let her know!
Her wide-eyed gaze met his gentle one. “D-Dennis.” She swallowed hard. “Master Dennis.”
Fuck!
Stunned, Ian was about to ask if she was sure, when his cell phone chirped in his hand, at the same time Devon and Parrish’s did. Glancing at the screen, the blood drained from his face. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
C
HAPTER 22
His hands on top of his head, Logan paced back and forth in the hallway outside the emergency room they were treating Dakota in. He was still shirtless, covered in her blood, and probably looked like a mad man. She was still alive, that’s all he knew, having held her hand for the entire ambulance ride, letting go only when forced to as they wheeled her into the trauma room. Back at the condo, he’d barely had a moment to yank the covers off the bed and cover her naked body before her fellow officers burst into the room. Only once the paramedics arrived had he backed away to give them some room, then handed his weapon to the first TPD supervisor on scene. They’d need it for the investigation, but he knew what they’d find—it was his bullet that had hit Dakota.
“Cowboy!” Ian stepped in front of his path. How he’d gotten there so fast was beyond Logan’s thinking right now. In fact, Devon, Mitch, Tiny, Agent Novik, and SAC Parrish were there already. “What happened?”
Tears filled his eyes. “I shot her! I fucking shot her, Ian!”
“Shit,” the man spat in a low voice, before grabbing his upper arm and dragging him into an empty treatment room, away from the growing crowd of police officers. “Someone get him a shirt and towel he can clean up with.”
Logan shook his head vehemently. He didn’t want to clean the blood off himself. It was hers and he’d been the one to spill it. “I shot her, man.”
“Okay, you said that—I’m sure it wasn’t on purpose. Now tell us what happened.”
He hadn’t realized Parrish, Novik, and Captain Bowman, who’d just arrived, had followed them into the room and shut the door. They silently gave him a moment, letting him roam the small room as best he could. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly. “It was Dennis Hardwick, your bartender.”
“We know,” Devon answered, stopping Logan in his tracks. “Georgia Branneth woke up a little while ago and told us right before we got the notifications of an officer down.”
Officer down. His officer. His partner. His woman.
Swallowing hard, he sat on the edge of the unoccupied gurney. A knock at the door had the female fed stepping to the side and opening it. Someone handed her a scrub shirt and towel, before the door shut once more. Logan took both when she offered them to him, but he tossed the towel aside and just pulled the shirt on. “We—Dakota and I—are sort of seeing each other.” If anyone was surprised about that small bomb, they didn’t show it. “We were hungry after the shift, so I ran out to a diner not far from her condo. Gina—Agent Harvey was driving into the lot as I was pulling out. I was gone about twenty—twenty five minutes, tops. I stopped at a fender bender, otherwise I would’ve been back sooner. Shit!” He thrust his fingers through his already unruly hair in frustration. He’d just realized if he’d returned sooner, he probably wouldn’t have been able to save the federal agent, but may have saved Dakota a lot of pain and fear . . . and not shot her.
“Easy. Don’t Monday morning quarterback,” Parrish said. “What happened when you got back to the condo?”
He knew they just needed the short version here; a detailed investigation into the shooting would come later in the day. “There was blood on the ground in front of their condo that hadn’t been there when I left. I ditched the food and used Dakota’s key to unlock the door. Agent Harvey’s body was partially blocking it in the foyer. She’d been shot in the head.” His gaze met Parrish’s. “I’m sorry.”
The man gave him a stoic nod, clearly having been alerted to her line-of-duty death already.
“I drew my weapon . . . heard him attacking Dakota in her bedroom . . . kicked the door in. He turned toward me, weapon up, we both fired.”
“So he shot her, or you did?” the SAC asked, trying to make sure he understood everything correctly.
“I did! Damn it!” He stood and started pacing again. “I fired twice. One hit him between the eyes, the other was a through-and-through his upper arm. It must have deflected and hit her when she lunged at him—probably to save me. She’d hit his arm, sending his shot wide. Next thing I knew, they were both on the ground.”
“Who called the cops?”
“I did. The second I saw Gina’s body.” He stepped toward the door Novik was blocking—he was done for now, and only one thing mattered. “I’ve got to check on Dakota. I have to see her.”
The female agent glanced at her superior, who nodded. “Let him go. We’ll get the full report in a little while.” His gaze returned to Logan. “But it has to be done today, Reese.”
Novik side-stepped and opened the door for him. In the short amount of time he’d been giving the abridged version of what had happened, the number of people in the emergency room had increased dramatically. There were uniformed and plain clothes officers and agents all over the place. Logan’s own teammates, McCabe, Foster, and Morrison, along with the Alpha Team, had arrived and were talking to Mitch and Tiny. Foster and McCabe hurried over when they saw him emerge from the room with the Sawyer brothers.
“You okay?” McCabe asked, eyeing the blood on Logan’s hands and arms.
He shook his head. “No. Not until—”
“Where’s my daughter?”
Logan pivoted to see a pale older man, dressed in sweat pants and a T-shirt, being escorted by two police captains in full uniform. Although he’d been younger in a newspaper photo after he’d delivered a baby on the side of the road about ten years ago, Logan knew this was Gavin Swift, Dakota’s father. Logan had been curious one day and Googled Dakota. He found her name mentioned several times for various police department calls and awards—like the time she’d interrupted a domestic violence incident, saving a woman’s life and arresting her husband, all before backup arrived. Her father had also popped up a few times.
Stepping in the man’s path, Logan growled. “If you say anything to her
other than you’re glad she’s alive and you’re proud of her, I’ll kick your fucking ass.”
The man’s eyes went wide. “Who the hell are you?”
“Dakota’s boyfriend.”
He scoffed, “She doesn’t have a boyfriend.”
“You obviously haven’t even asked if she has one lately. You’ve been too busy making her feel like she’ll never measure up to your fucking expectations.”
His ashen face turned red. “What? Get the hell out of my way!”
If Ian and Dakota’s friend and former partner, Ric Hernandez, hadn’t picked that moment to get between them, Logan wasn’t sure he could’ve held back from decking the man. Ian pushed his employee back a few steps. “Easy, Cowboy. We’re all worried. Now’s not the time to get into this.”
Glaring at her father, who was giving it back in spades, he finally moved out of the man’s way. He’d made his point. There was no way he’d allow anyone to put his woman down ever again.
After the elder Swift joined a few older officers down the hall, another man stepped forward, looking like he’d also just rolled out of bed, and shook Ric’s hand before addressing Logan. “I’m Dakota’s brother, Gerry.” He tilted his head in his father’s direction. “Thanks for standing up for her to the old man. He’s been tough on us all our lives, but to be honest, I think it’s his way of saying he loves us—he just doesn’t know any other way to express it. Do we know how she is? All they were able to tell us was she was shot by the Kink Killer and she’s alive.”
Unable to admit to Dakota’s brother that he’d been the one to shoot her, Logan replied, “She also got beat up a bit. Her blood pressure was low on the way over here, and she’s still unconscious, but the medics said she was holding her own. Just waiting to hear what the doctors have to say.”
The door to the trauma room swung open and the ER physician stepped out. He was immediately surrounded by the brass, Dakota’s family, Ric, and Logan, while the others held back, giving them room. “She’s stable. We’re sending her up to the OR in a few minutes. The bullet is lodged just under her left shoulder, and doesn’t appear to be life-threatening, but it put a small fracture in the collarbone. She’s still unconscious, but responding to painful stimuli. I think that’s the result of the assault—she took a few blows to the head. Everything else appears to be superficial. We’ll clean up the wounds from the whip while she’s still in the OR. While she may have a few scars from them, I think most will heal completely.”
A Dead Man's Pulse: Trident Security Omega Team Book 1 Page 21