We All Sleep Alone (Finley Creek Book 11)

by Calle J. Brookes

  “Sorry, Izadora, we’re not heading back to Finley Creek anytime soon. You’re not going to be sleeping alone for a long, long time. So snuggle up, buttercup.”

  He hadn’t put a shirt on. Damn him. He’d grabbed a spare blanket out of the overhead cabinet, but it was nowhere near big enough for a man his size.

  He laced his fingers behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. He took up a lot of room—that was for sure.

  She hadn’t realized he was so…big…before.

  She could smell him, all warm woodsy and masculine. Izzie’s nose twitched. His heat was threatening to scorch her, and there were a good six inches between them. And the silk blanket.

  “The roof rises on this thing,” he said, completely throwing off her train of thought. Which was good. She was starting to think hot man instead of irritant for a minute there.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It rises. Gives more headroom, and some ventilation. When we get to where we’re going, we can check it out and extend both the slides and the top. All we’ll need to make it a happy home are Izadora the Second and Allen Junior. Plus, a little dog. I’ll happily help make the kids. Tell me when you’re ready to start.”

  “Gee, that will take us some time to arrange. How long am I going to be your hostage?” Time to get down to details. Izzie needed details. Details gave a person more control. She flipped over to face her nemesis.

  Nemesis? That was such a Nikkie Jean word. It was a good one.

  Hell, she was even starting to think like Nikkie Jean. “What exactly did Chief Marshall and Rafe and Nikkie Jean say?”

  “They wanted to keep you safe.” His voice softened, and he flipped to look at her. Even closer. One hand came toward her face. Izzie barely resisted flinching away.

  She wasn’t afraid of him. Not really. When he touched her, she had a hard time remembering that she didn’t like the man all that much.

  Well, she didn’t like the man he’d been. She wasn’t so certain about the man he was now.

  His fingers brushed through her hair near her hairline.

  She thought about bitching about personal space, but it didn’t feel like the right thing to say. So she didn’t. As close as they were, physical space didn’t exactly exist.

  “You have a nasty bruise right here.” He brushed a finger along her cheek. She fought a shiver. No, no, no. This was not going to happen.

  “Yes. I know. I can feel it.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t stop the attack sooner.”

  “Hey, you were there. You stopped them. Long enough for help to come. I think that’s all that matters.” She shivered again as it sank in. Those men had been there to take her. To most likely kill her.

  They would have. Except for him.

  She’d repaid him by being totally bitchy in return. Well, she knew why. He scared her. Maybe it was leftovers from what Lanning had done to her, or maybe it was him specifically. He scared her, which was stupid—on her part.

  She wasn’t a coward. She wasn’t going to let herself be. “Thank you. By the way. For…saving my life. Again.”

  “Anytime.” His fingers slipped. His hand cupped her cheek. “You have another abrasion on your cheek. I wish I had done a better job protecting you.”

  “I saw it in the mirror, too. I don’t know what more you could have done. They were just…there.”

  “Nikkie Jean was beside herself. She loves you very much.”

  “She panicked, didn’t she?”

  “A little. Rafe was able to calm her down. We’ll get through this.” He smiled again, a quiet, soft look that had her stomach clenching in a way she did not want to think about. “Then we’ll head back to Finley Creek. Go back to avoiding each other in the halls as much as we possibly can—for whatever reasons we did originally.”

  She nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”

  Yet would she be able to? Izzie didn’t have a clue.

  He pulled away, dragging his blanket up to his broad shoulders. His overly large man-feet stuck out at the bottom. That struck her.

  It was so dorky normal. Not how she’d describe him. But it had some of the nerves receding, at least. No matter what, he was only a man. She could deal.

  “So where exactly are we going, boss?”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s probably best if we keep moving. Less likely that whoever tried to take you is able to track us.”

  “You think they’ll be able to?” She had to come to grips with the fact that someone had it out for her.

  If running with Allen was her only way to escape that, then she’d better get herself in gear and just keep running. It could be so much worse. It could be a nasty old van they were in. Complete with bedbugs. This was the Hilton on wheels—bedbugs wouldn’t dare to climb in here.

  This was the most comfortable bed she’d ever been in.

  “First, they’d have to figure out that I’m the one who took you out of the hospital.”

  “Could they? Who knew?”

  “Rafe, Elliot, Donna from ortho, and Nikkie Jean. Nikkie Jean helped you change into the scrubs and sweatshirt. She had one of Caine’s son’s baseball caps in the car. As far as anyone at a distance saw, you were a teenage boy being pushed in a wheelchair by a surgeon. Rafe plans to tell anyone who asks that you were his teenage brother visiting from St. Louis who fell playing basketball. People have seen that kid—from a distance. It explains why he and Nikkie Jean were hovering over you. You’ll pass. We were careful.”

  “Someone would have seen something, though. The hospital…people see everything. We both know that.”

  “It’s not about keeping you from not being seen. It’s about buying time for Marshall and the rest to find out who’s responsible. Plus, we loaded you into my car in the back garage.”

  “It’s not open yet.” The parking garage was one of the last places on the list that was being rebuilt after the tornado. It was still roped off.

  “I know. Rafe moved my SUV into the first level. You climbed in of your own free will—though I think Nikkie Jean told you that you were going home with her.”

  “I owe her one for that, then.” She vaguely remembered climbing right in.

  “No kidding. Aiding and abetting an abduction is a serious crime. I’ll make certain the chief of the TSP is aware of it. If that doesn’t work, I’ll tell the mayor and then the governor.”

  “Ha-ha.”

  “They don’t know you are with me. No one knows I was even in the building.”

  “Why?”

  “I was long gone for the day; I came back to grab a file and talk to Cage and handle something in one of the surgical offices, but I had to track Cage down. I thought he was in our office and was headed that way when I saw you, dancing in the rain.”

  “I wasn’t dancing—” Izzie cut herself off. She was not going to be lying in bed getting all chatty and comfortable with this man. No way. “So where are we, and where are we going in the morning?”

  “We’re somewhere in central Texas. I’m not sure where we’re headed in the morning. Take a left, take a right, we’ll decide later. Figured you’d flip a coin, take control of at least that much.”

  Well, he was starting to figure her out, apparently.

  “Where are we parked now?” She could hear traffic going by, an interstate possibly. Light peeked in around the window—the artificial-light type.

  “We’re in a parking lot of a grocery store complex. There are a few truckers parked nearby, engines running. They do that at night when they rest. I figured this is a good place to hide. We’re between the two trucks.”

  “Hidden from the road.” A clever plan, actually. He would be a clever strategist—he was one of the top trauma surgeons in the country. He was probably brilliant, or something.

  He’d eventually find a brilliant woman of his own, marry, and make little Surgeon Juniors who were equally as brilliant and perfect. She thought about poking him to see if he was real, but thought better of it. />
  Best to keep her hands to herself.

  “Exactly. In the morning, I’ll go inside the store and get some groceries and anything else we need. I don’t want you being seen on any security camera anywhere.”

  “I don’t think they have clothes in there, do they? Did anyone pack me anything to wear?”

  He hesitated. “Well…we have a few things. I grabbed what I thought would fit from the Lannings’ closet. Linda was a lot heavier than you and a lot taller. I don’t think her things will fit you. We’ll have to fix the clothing issue later.”

  “How long do you think this will last?” She both wanted to know the answer to that—and didn’t. She was terrified he was about to tell her it was forever.

  It would be her luck to be stuck with this man literally forever. Like in a really bad dystopian movie or something. Stuck in a van with him forever. She’d bet he was difficult to handle, even in the best of times. Eventually, he’d want to work on Izadora the Second and Allen Junior.

  For that matter, she suspected she would, too.

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Marshall said they’ve been working on this case since before the storm. Long before. It could be a while. We need to be prepared for that. We’re stuck with each other.”

  “And if it drags on? Are you going to keep me hostage with you the whole time? You have a life to go back to. Why would you do this for me?”

  57

  Forever. He’d stay with her forever if he had to. Allen couldn’t explain it, but he wanted to make certain this little monster of attitude was safe.

  She’d become his personal penance. Maybe because he’d failed to protect others he’d cared about, somehow that emotion and guilt had transferred to her. Hell, he wasn’t a psychiatrist. He didn’t know all the subconscious reasons he’d stepped up again where she was concerned. Attraction, respect, the connection she had with people he did still care about, how loyal and protective she was of those people. Just genuine human concern for someone he knew. All of those could be a factor.

  She pulled him in a way he had never thought a woman ever would again. Allen wasn’t going to overlook that. Attraction was a damned powerful motivator.

  Hell, maybe it had been the storm they’d gone through together. Maybe it had woken him up from the cloud he’d been under since Jess.

  Izzie had more strength and courage in her little finger than any other woman he had ever met. She had a right to be cranky right now. “I’m not going to leave you to deal with this alone. We have almost fifty thousand dollars in cash in the bottom of my bag. We can travel a long time with that. There are places we can stay that people won’t be able to track you that easily. I’m not going anywhere. You can count on me. I’m not leaving you to face this alone. I promise.”

  He needed someone to count on him.

  Realization slammed into him. He’d failed people who mattered most to him—Shelby, Logan, Jess. Nikkie Jean. The guilt of that would stick for a long, long time. Probably forever.

  Allen needed to ensure he was the kind of man people who mattered could depend on. It wasn’t about her—it was about him. He was with her because of his reasons and needs. Not just hers.

  He didn’t know if that was a selfish reason or not.

  “But why? Why me, Jacobson? We haven’t exactly gotten along all that well. Why is it you that’s always there whenever I’m about to die?”

  “I don’t know. Luck. Fate. Karma, maybe. Something pulling us together that I can’t understand.” He was going to go for it. To get it out there between them so they could move on. She’d probably be as jumpy as a cat until he did.

  Acting like he was going to pounce on her the instant she turned her back.

  He wouldn’t mind that, honestly. Not when she was so battered and bruised.

  He cupped her soft cheek again. He leaned closer. He brushed his lips across hers for only a millisecond. When he pulled back big brown eyes more beautiful than any he’d ever seen stared at him. Wide. Shocked.

  Well. She couldn’t have been that clueless about how he felt. Even still groggy from pain meds. Though she’d been pretty damned lucid since he’d parked and woke her to move her to the bed.

  Her lower lip trembled. The urge to kiss her again slammed into him. Yes. This was one reason he was there.

  For the first time since Jess, he was attracted to a beautiful woman again. Beautiful, intriguing, utterly maddening.

  “There is this. You draw me more than anyone has since—before. But it’s you I dream about at night now. I have since the storm. Now, sleep, woman. It’s almost two a.m. I want to hit the store as soon as it opens at eight, for a day’s worth of food. I figured we’ll find a spot and hole up in the morning, where you can sleep the rest of the day away if you need it.” He reached overhead and flicked off the bed light. “You can yell and fuss at me for kissing you then.”

  She burrowed down under the blankets like a little mouse, hiding from him.

  She hadn’t said a word since he’d kissed her. Allen smiled. He’d have to kiss her more often, every opportunity he got.

  He’d thrown her. She hadn’t realized he was attracted to her. He’d bet good money on that.

  He didn’t know how she could have missed it. Even Rafe had noticed. He hadn’t questioned Allen when he’d volunteered to protect Izzie. Not even once.

  Because the other man had understood.

  So had Elliot Marshall.

  Nikkie Jean had hugged him and thanked him for being such a good friend.

  The attraction would play itself out or not. He was just going to do his best to keep Izzie alive in the interim.

  The gun was next to his side of the bed. He had parked the van against a wooden fence, between two idling semis. His body was between hers and the doors. He would keep himself between her and any threat.

  He lay there for a while, contemplating the strange turn life had taken him on.

  One thing was clear.

  She had become his world.

  That thought kept him awake another hour or so.

  She slid into sleep a lot easier, likely still feeling a bit of the sedative they’d used. Nikkie Jean had informed him that Izzie was one of those people who was extra sensitive to drugs of any kind. They’d given her the lowest dose possible to maintain effectiveness, and it had still knocked Izzie out for hours. He’d have to be aware of that.

  When she woke, she’d be in pain. He was sore, too, but it was nothing compared to what she’d face in the morning. It would take a few days before either of them was up for much.

  He’d have to take that into account.

  It might be best to get enough supplies to last for a few days, then hole up somewhere safe. Off the grid.

  He lay there for a long while contemplating exactly what they’d need and how he was going to make this work. She’d shifted closer, and before he knew it, he had his arm around her and her head pillowed on his chest, helping to keep her warm. Soft, silky hair brushed against his cheek. Allen just held her.

  58

  He woke early. It took him a moment to realize where he was and who was cuddled against him. And why. He pulled his hands back into safe territory before she woke and slugged him.

  Allen did not want to get hit upside the head by a damp cast.

  He checked the cast quickly while he was thinking about it. It was getting there; it would be fully dry by the end of the day as long as she kept it from getting wet.

  Allen rolled on his side and studied her while she slept, as the morning sun mingled with the parking lot’s security lights. Her hair stuck straight up everywhere. Curling from yesterday’s rain. Cute. He hadn’t realized she had such curly hair. It had usually been straight when he saw her.

  He felt like he’d found out one of her biggest secrets.

  She had a small burn of road rash on that side of her face as well. He’d had Nikkie Jean pack all the medications he could possibly need to take care of her. There was antibiotic cream, pain
pills, antibiotics, and refills of her asthma medications. Nikkie Jean had insisted he carry an epinephrine pen, too. She had given him the warning that her little buddy had multiple food and drug allergies, and he wasn’t ever to feed her anything that didn’t come with a food label or that he didn’t cook himself from safe ingredients.

  He waited until his watch chirped seven thirty before shaking her awake.

  She rolled on her back and hummed. She was still fully dressed, but the sweatshirt was tight beneath her.

  Allen forced himself to get back on track—and not waste time ogling his companion. No sense in confirming her already low opinion of him. Not yet.

  Allen had had a well-deserved reputation as a player long before Jess.

  He hated that Izzie was judging him by those same standards now, though. He wanted to be a man she respected, corny as it sounded even to him. “Hey, Izzie, you need to wake up.”

  Brown eyes popped open. Confusion covered her face, then the memories slid in. “It’s morning, and this is real. Ouch.”

  “It wasn’t a dream. No. On a one-to-ten scale—how big is the ouch?”

  “We’re still here. Eleven thirteen, on the ouch. With a factor of ten.”

  “Yes.”

  “Damn it. I need to call Jake.”

  No. Absolutely not. If she had been targeted because of her uncle—and that made the most sense—calling her uncle might be a one-way ticket to them being tracked. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “If they are after Jake, there’s a chance they’ll be able to trace you through his phone. Something to consider.”

  “This isn’t a spy novel. It’s real life.”

  “Yes, and real life can be pretty shitty. Dangerous. I think we both know that.” He shifted so she could climb off the mattress. He watched how she moved, cataloging what she wasn’t telling him.

  She was hurting. She could move, probably quickly if it was required. It would just hurt like hell to do it.

  She looked like she’d gone four rounds with a heavyweight champ, though. “How are you feeling?”