We All Sleep Alone (Finley Creek Book 11)

by Calle J. Brookes

  That had Izzie softening toward him, too. Nikkie Jean deserved people to love her and want to take care of her more than anyone Izzie had ever known. Nikkie Jean had met him before the pharmacy tech had wrought her destruction on him—Nikkie Jean said that woman had broken a part of Allen. A part he had yet to repair.

  That had made Nikkie Jean, who usually feared male physicians from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes, almost protective of Allen.

  Nikkie Jean said he had changed for the better.

  He did seem to hover over Nikkie Jean whenever Caine wasn’t around. All strong and protective.

  There was still speculation around the hospital because of how Allen seemed so close to Nikkie Jean.

  Nikkie Jean said the rumormongers could go stick it up their noses. She was adopting Allen as her big brother, no matter what.

  “Well, thanks again,” Izzie said, feeling beyond awkward.

  “Maybe, Nurse Izzie, in another lifetime you and I were good friends. That’s why karma or fate keep putting us in the circumstances.”

  “Do you believe that?” She fell into step next to him.

  “Do I believe in other lifetimes or fate? I’m not so certain what I believe anymore,” he said quietly. “But in recent times, I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. I’ve had to tell myself that maybe everything does happen for a reason. Why else has all of this happened to people around us lately? To you? Nikkie Jean? Annie? I just don’t know.”

  Izzie couldn’t think of an answer.

  She heard an echoing confusion in his words, too.

  A confusion she still hadn’t figured out even hours later.

  49

  Izzie had returned to W4HAV a week ago. Annie and Nikkie Jean had been with her. Had held her hands while she’d stepped inside.

  They’d done it together.

  They’d been greeted by everyone in a surprise welcome-back party that had left both Nikkie Jean and Izzie balling. Everyone had been there. The lobby where it had happened had been repainted the softest peach. Izzie’s favorite color, Ariella had made certain to let her know that was deliberate.

  So that what she had experienced there wouldn’t be forgotten. They’d even added another emergency exit, right in the spot where Izzie had first landed after she’d crumbled.

  There was a plaque dedicated to her in the lobby.

  Izzie had never been at such a loss for words.

  The windows had new blinds and the furniture had been completely rearranged. It looked different. Deliberately.

  She understood why they had wanted to do that, and she really appreciated it. Izzie had needed to do this, to go back. To take control of that again. Nikkie Jean, too.

  Nikkie Jean had needed W4HAV far more than Izzie ever had.

  The trauma Nikkie Jean had experienced as a teenager was horrific, and the regular counseling she’d received at W4HAV, even before the grand opening—which had been delayed once again because of the shooting—had been Nikkie Jean’s lifeline to sanity, as Nikkie Jean had put it.

  Tonight, Izzie was going back on the rotation at W4HAV. Someone always womaned the phones in case someone in need called in. Someone would be there.

  It was her turn again. Finally.

  She needed to do this for herself. Maybe she was the one most in need now.

  It was another check on her checklist.

  Izzie’s ten-step plan back to Normal.

  The W4HAV sign beckoned her. Even through the rain.

  Izzie was so tired of all the rain. It was one of the wettest years on record in the state. She was about ready to move to New Mexico or Arizona just to dry out.

  She was halfway to the door when a dark luxury SUV pulled in. A tall man stepped out, but she couldn’t see him fully in the downpour.

  She hesitated—there wasn’t anyone else in the parking lot and the rain had turned almost torrential—but she told herself to stop being a coward. She couldn’t live the rest of her life afraid of every shadow or every tall man she didn’t know.

  She wouldn’t be that way.

  She was fifty feet away from her destination. She was just fine and perfectly safe.

  When the man turned, she got a good look at his face and she told herself she’d been an idiot. It was ok.

  He wasn’t exactly a threat to her personal safety. Maybe her mental well-being, but not her safety.

  They had even found a bit of peace between them in the last few days.

  His sister had been at W4HAV’s trauma support group Izzie’s first day back. Shelby had told a bit of her own story; enough to have Izzie finally understanding why Allen had seemed so protective over Nikkie Jean.

  Shelby’s story was terrifying in that the men who should have protected her, had been the very ones to terrify her.

  Yet another dark cloud over the TSP.

  She had been meaning to ask Jake if he had ever heard anything about what had happened to Allen’s sister, but her uncle had been rather difficult to find lately.

  His case, that had been all he’d said. It was turning into a bad one. Izzie had trained herself to hold back the worry—at least not let it be visible—for him years ago. The knowledge that he could be hurt in the line of duty was a very real fear that everyone who’d ever loved a cop had felt.

  Allen saw Izzie coming through the rain and paused. It wasn’t hard to recognize her. The short, rich, dark hair was distinctive, even plastered to her head like a ball cap.

  She looked like a pixie, with the mist of the rain all around her.

  He laughed at his poetic thoughts for a moment. She wouldn’t appreciate him thinking of her that way; he knew that.

  She didn’t have an umbrella. He had one. He stepped closer. She’d already crossed from the hospital in the downpour, but he had been raised to be a gentleman. He had almost made it to her when a truck squealed to a stop right next to her, sending a flood of water straight at her.

  She covered her face at the last minute.

  He heard her cry out.

  Two men jumped from the back of the truck.

  And were on her. Grabbing her. Dragging her to the back passenger side of the white truck.

  Allen didn’t stop to think.

  He yelled as he tossed the umbrella aside and dove at the closest attacker.

  50

  Izzie screamed and clawed, but it wasn’t enough. The bigger man had ahold of her by the neck. Squeezing, yelling at her to shut up. That her uncle should have kept his nose out of other people’s businesses.

  He had her off the ground. Izzie kicked her legs and clawed at his arm. He cursed.

  She saw the fist coming at her face far too late to stop it.

  It slammed into the side of her head, and she went sprawling.

  Concrete rose to meet her. She threw her hands out in front of her to stop the inevitable. It was too late.

  She slammed into the concrete. Her head bounced off the parking lot.

  That’s all she remembered, other than the darkness she couldn’t stop.

  And the sounds of Allen trying to protect her once again.

  Allen was bigger. He was yelling loudly. There had to be people around somewhere. People who could damned well help.

  He wasn’t about to let anyone hurt Izzie again. Not if he could stop it. There were three men now. Two came at him.

  A third went for her.

  Divide and conquer. He was the bigger threat.

  He kicked out, catching one guy in the stomach.

  Allen bellowed and slammed his fist into the closest attacker’s nose. Blood coated his knuckles. His, the attackers’. It didn’t matter.

  He had to get to Izzie.

  He heard someone yelling. Female. It wasn’t Izzie.

  Nikkie Jean. It was always Nikkie Jean. Someone else yelled out behind her. He recognized the voice and figured it was either Caine or Rafe. Either one of them would be enough to help. He grabbed the smallest man by the back of the shirt and flung him to the concrete
as far from Izzie’s legs as he could get him.

  She wasn’t moving.

  The attackers cursed. The leader yelled for them to get back in the truck.

  Allen took another hit straight to his gut from one guy while trying to grab for the third. Then they were gone, squealing off into the storm.

  He dropped to his knees next to Izzie.

  She wasn’t moving.

  Her eyes were closed. He pushed wet hair out of her eyes with a hand still shaking from adrenaline. “Izzie, open your eyes. Right now.”

  Hands were there pulling him back. It took him a moment to realize it was Rafe and not Caine with Nikkie Jean. “What the hell happened, Allen?”

  “They pulled up next to her and went straight for her. In less than a minute, they were right on her. I didn’t think. I reacted.” He swore again. He was sore, but he’d given better than he’d gotten. They couldn’t leave her in the damned half-flooded parking lot long enough to get an ambulance over here to her. “We need to get her across the street.”

  Thunder echoed overhead.

  “Careful!” Nikkie Jean was starting to panic, right in front of him. Allen grabbed his keys and handed them to Nikkie Jean. “Get my rear door open.”

  Rafe went to Izzie’s head, obviously following Allen’s reasoning. “We’ll lift on three.”

  Allen nodded and counted off. Together, they were able to get Izzie into his SUV without jarring her too much, moments before the worst of the storm hit.

  Dark eyes opened. She looked straight at him. Again.

  He was getting damned tired of seeing Izzie like this.

  Allen climbed in next to her. Nikkie Jean hopped into the passenger side.

  Rafe took the wheel.

  “Let’s get her across the road.”

  “Who were they?” Nikkie Jean asked. “What was this about?”

  Allen thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I thought I heard them yell something about her uncle. They were dragging her toward the truck. They were going to take her.”

  “We need to get ahold of the TSP. I’ll call Elliot,” Rafe said, referring to his cousin, the chief of the TSP. “You did a damned good job of keeping that from happening.”

  “We need to keep this quiet. I don’t want them coming for her again.” Allen said, checking her pupils. She flinched back and moaned. Big dark eyes opened and met his. “They will be even more determined the next time.”

  Rafe nodded. Instead of going toward the front of the hospital he turned the SUV into the construction site behind it.

  The rear entrance that had been blocked off for weeks beckoned.

  The entrance where Jess had been murdered.

  No one ever entered there any longer.

  Allen hadn’t been on that side of the building since it had happened. He just hadn’t been able to.

  They got Izzie inside and right into a private exam bay in the annex that had been blocked off for repairs still. Rafe was getting things done, but it was taking time as the hospital competed for construction workers with every other major building in the city. Tonight, it was perfect for their purposes.

  Rafe took charge seamlessly, getting Izzie exactly what she needed.

  Allen could finally breathe again. She was safe.

  51

  Nikkie Jean waited outside Radiology while they grabbed X-rays. They were certain one arm was broken—it was the other that was in question. She had a panicked look on her face. Allen didn’t stop to think. He wrapped her in his arms. She looked so afraid.

  He was soaked. That didn’t sink in until she gasped.

  Allen swore. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

  “I have scrubs in my locker. I’ll change in a moment.”

  “Me, too.” He was a mess. It was just now sinking in what had almost happened right in front of him. “I’ll run downstairs and grab them. You...stay with her. Don’t leave.”

  They worked quickly. Rafe took charge, no surprise, and Nikkie Jean made phone calls once he told her that it looked like Izzie had only minor injuries, except for the concussion and a distal radius fracture. Displacement was minor.

  Izzie had wakened while on the gurney up to radiology and had been cognizant enough for Rafe to explain how they were going to treat the break. To ask what medications Izzie was allergic to—she was allergic to quite a few—and what was safe for her to be given for the pain.

  She was lucid. She knew what had happened, and was aware of where she was and who she was with.

  Allen had reassured her that she was fine and that he would take care of things.

  That seemed to help her settle down.

  She’d be in a plaster cast and would require an air cast for a few days on the sprain. Rafe made it happen without more than a handful of people knowing what they were doing.

  Allen didn’t question the other man. Not after Rafe had called his cousin, the TSP chief and explained what had happened.

  Allen had heard him promise to keep what had happened quiet.

  For Izzie’s sake.

  No one was even speaking Izzie’s name aloud. They were going to keep this as quiet as they possibly could.

  “I’m good.” Nikkie Jean threw herself against him for the briefest moment. Allen hugged her back gently, aware that physical touch still made her nervous. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You keep showing up right when Izzie needs you most.”

  He hurried through changing clothes. Ten minutes later he was back up in Radiology, handing Nikkie Jean a pair of much smaller dry scrubs.

  Rafe and Nikkie Jean were talking with two men he recognized.

  Elliot Marshall held out a hand to him. “How are you? Injuries?”

  “Minor. Bruised ribs, tissue damage to the knuckles. I’ll be ok.” He’d be sore for a day or two, but it was worth it. He’d held his own; the hours he’d spent at the dojang after his shifts had come in handy. He’d taken up the sport of tae kwon do after Logan’s death, to distract himself, mostly.

  Now, he was damned glad he had. It had helped. He’d given better than he’d gotten. He hoped those sons of bitches were hurting now.

  “What the hell happened out there, Jacobson?” Callum demanded.

  “I pulled in across the street. I’d seen Izzie crossing at the light, so I watched to make certain I didn’t hit her. Visibility was low from the rain. I barely saw the truck pull in.” He went on to describe exactly what happened. “They went right for her. A coordinated attack. They didn’t even hesitate. I’m certain I heard them say her uncle should have kept his nose out of other people’s business. They practically yelled it, like they wanted whoever was around to know it.”

  Elliot swore. “I was afraid of that. We’ve...had some people targeted because of Jake’s latest case.”

  Nikkie Jean was still pacing. Rafe finally had enough and stood over her until she sat. Nikkie Jean turned toward Elliot. “Well, how are you going to keep her safe?”

  “She needs to get out of town. This is bigger than an attack on Jake MacNamara,” Elliot said bluntly. “We’re not certain where exactly in the state this extends to. I can make some calls. Put her into some sort of safe house.”

  “No offense, but how safe is the TSP right now? I mean, Gabby’s told me a few stories.” Nikkie Jean could be blunt when she wanted to be. “Can’t we call Ari and get help from Marc? Or Rafe’s sister or brother in St. Louis?”

  He could see the panic still on her face.

  Elliot shook his head. “I know you’re worried, but we can’t exactly call out the governor and the National Guard—or the St. Louis branch of the FBI.”

  “She needs to get out of town tonight. Before someone sees her here,” Callum added. “Who knows she’s here?”

  “Those of us in this room and the radiology tech and the orthopedic technician,” Allen said. Nikkie Jean was becoming more agitated.

  Since what had happened with Wallace Henedy, Nikkie Jean had had a hard time letting her friends out of her sight. She’d told
him herself she was working on that with her therapist.

  This…this was a nightmare for her, too. He shared a look with Rafe, knowing the other man was seeing the same thing he was. Neither of them liked seeing her that upset. Rafe was just as protective of Nikkie Jean as Allen was—maybe more so. “We brought her in the back.”

  “That could work in our favor. We need to find someone to drive her out of town tonight. To a safe house,” the chief said. “We’ll decide what to do in the morning. We may have to move her again.”

  Nikkie Jean was about to volunteer. He and Rafe both knew that. Allen stood and crossed his arms over his chest. There was no way in hell he was going to let Nikkie Jean take Izzie and disappear into the night. It would be an absolute recipe for a disaster right now. Izzie wouldn’t be back to speed for a few days—and Nikkie Jean couldn’t go four hours without being ill.

  That was if Caine would ever sign off on the idea.

  Hell, there was no way that was going to happen. “I’ll take her someplace myself as soon as we get a cast on the left arm. The right will need a splint for at least a week. I’m the last person anyone would expect to drive off into the night with her.”

  He had no idea what he was going to do next, but Allen knew one thing.

  It had been clear from the moment his fist had first connected with those sons of bitches in the parking lot.

  No one was going to hurt Izzie again. If her uncle wouldn’t step up and keep her safe from his work with the TSP, then Allen damned well would.

  52

  Her head was going to explode. Izzie was pretty certain of it. They’d wheeled her out of orthopedics with a nifty white cast wrapped around her left arm. She vaguely put together Rafe and Allen discussing the results of the X-rays with her.

  Someone—she thought it had been Rafe—had said most likely a mild intracranial injury. No kidding.