If You Know Her: A Novel of Romantic Suspense (39 page)

Then he headed up the stairs. He had one gigantic mess to clean up, but first … he needed to hold his wife.

“R
EMY
.”

Dawn was still just a distant thought. In the cold, bright lights of the hospital, he couldn’t hide from the truth anymore, although he was trying.

He also couldn’t hide from Hope, it seemed.

She’d tracked him down to the small chapel and when he looked up and met her eyes, he knew she wasn’t about to leave him alone, either.

As she rested a hand on his shoulder, he reached up and covered it with his. “Did you let the doctors look you over?”

She eased down on the small wooden bench next to him. “No need. He never even touched me.” She brushed his hair back from his face, studying him with worried eyes. “Are you okay?”

Remy laughed bitterly. “Okay? I just found out my cousin was a killer. A brutal one.” He paused and then said, “You know what one of the deputies told me? They found what they think are human ashes in the workshop, darlin’.
Ashes
.”

“Ashes … how?”

“The kilns.” He looked over at her and said softly, “Last year at Christmas, he gave my mother this bowl.

It had the most amazing glaze—it shimmered, almost like it was alive. She asked him how he had come up with such a unique glaze. She’d done some pottery herself in college and she was in awe—apparently he did something really, really special.”

He stopped, let his mind adjust to the horror. It was going to come out, all of it. “You know what he told her? He was using a special blend of ashes in some of his glazes. Ashes, Hope. He said it gave the glazes a special luster, a life of their own.”

She went white. “Oh, God. Remy.”

She went to slip her arms around him, but he came off the bench, shaking his head.

“No. For God’s sake, how can you stand to touch me now, Hope?”

Silence. It was a heavy, awkward silence, broken only when he turned to look at her, making himself ask, “I guess maybe you don’t want to, now that you’ve thought about it, huh?”

“Don’t be an idiot,” she snapped. She stood and jabbed him in the chest with a finger, hard. “Why shouldn’t I want to touch you?
You
had nothing to do with what
he
did. Did
you
know what he was doing? Did you help him? Did you cover for him?”

“God, no!” He stared at her, horrified.

“Then why should my feelings for you change?”

He shook his head, still so full of the horror, the shock. He couldn’t think. She shouldn’t be near him now, shouldn’t touch him.

Her hands, small, but so strong, closed around his shirt. “Damn it, you bastard.” Hope shook him. “I
love
you. I’ve spent my entire life waiting for somebody like you and if you think I’m going to let somebody like Carter interfere with that, then you better get that out of your head
now
.”

“Hope—”

“No.” She cut him off, shaking her head. She let go of his shirt, reached up to cup his face. “I just need to know
one
thing, and only
one
thing. Do you love me?”

Staring into her soft green eyes, Remy sighed. Something was trying to work past the horror inside—something
true
, something
clean
and
real
. It was
her
. Hope. Pressing his brow to hers, he said softly, “More than my own life.”

“Then nothing else matters.
Nothing
.”

Lena lay on the hospital bed, stroking a hand down Puck’s side. She hadn’t been hurt, but her boy had. Poor Puck. And Ezra wasn’t about to let her go off to the vet to tend him, either. Thankfully, though, they could, and would, unofficially, check on broken ribs and stuff here.

“You did good, boy,” she whispered, staring off into the darkness. Achingly alone. Puck was asleep, although unconscious would have been a better word. Apparently Carter had shown up loaded for bear, or close to it. He’d shot Puck with one of the tranquilizer darts and since he was still breathing …

Tears leaked out of her eyes. Squeezing them closed, she pressed her face against soft golden fur. “Hang in there, boy. You have to.”

A hand caressed her hair.

“Ezra.”

Shooting upright, she turned and clamped her arms around him. The sobs that had threatened her for the past few hours were perilously close, but she fought them back. Not here. Not while they were in this cold, sterile hospital.

“You okay?” he murmured, pressing his lips to her brow. “The nurses said you don’t want anybody in here with you.”

“The only people I’d want are all too busy,” she said, trying not to let her voice break. “I guess you might
have a few pieces of paper to fill out. And I guess one of the others is getting patched up—but hell, Law’s leg can’t be that bad, right?”

“Nah. Bet it’s nothing worse than a paper cut,” he murmured, humoring her.

“Yeah. So why is he being a baby and not in here with me? Or Hope and …” She almost said Remy, but then she stopped, ashamed. “Man, Remy must be reeling.”

Sick at heart, she leaned against Ezra. “And Roz—damn it!” She stiffened and sat up. “Ezra … is Roz here?”

He stroked her hair. “Yeah, sweetheart. She’s here. I’ll take you to her in a minute. I just needed some time with you first.” His arms came around her, tight and strong. “Damn it, Lena. I was so scared …”

“Yeah.” Breathing him in, she relaxed against him. “Me, too.”

“Roz?”

There was no sound. Turning her face to Ezra, she whispered, “Is she awake?”

“Yeah.” Ezra blew out a breath and then glanced down at his wife for a moment before looking back at Roz. She lay on her side, knees drawn up to her chest, staring dully at the wall.

She’d been like that for hours. He’d hoped she’d respond to Lena, but … “I guess I’ll walk you back to your room.”

“No.” Lena eased her hand from his and stepped forward, the collapsible cane in her hand going from side to side as she moved forward. When she reached the bed, she patted it with her hand, moving forward until she was at Roz’s side. Then she sat down. “Hey, sweetie.”

From his position in the doorway, Ezra could see Roz close her eyes.

Lena laid a hand on her arm and started to stroke. “I’m here. You know that.” She patted along the bed until she found Roz’s hand, then she squeezed it. “I’m right here.”

And quietly, Roz started to sob. Lena curled her body around Roz, hugging her close. “There you go, sweetie. You go ahead and cry.”

“Don’t you look sexy.”

Law, groggy from the pain meds, punchy from exhaustion, forced his lids to open, forced his eyes to focus. Nia stood in the doorway.

A wry smile twisted his lips. “I look like shit,” he muttered. “You, on the other hand … you still look like an Amazon.”

“An Amazon?” She snorted. “Whatever.”

His lids drifted down, but he forced them open again. He didn’t know how much longer he could stay awake, though. The drugs were too damn strong to fight. “Yeah. That was what I thought the first time I saw you. You were an Amazon. Strong. Sexy. Beautiful.”

She came inside, limping a little. He saw the brace on her foot and fury, so useless, so fiery hot, burned inside. “Your leg?”

“It’s my ankle,” she said, shrugging. “Twisted it when I fell. All in all, I got off pretty light, seeing as how he came there solely to kill me.”

“Fuck, don’t say that right before I pass out,” he muttered. “Don’t need more nightmares.”

“Sorry.” She winced and put her hand in his.

He squeezed lightly. “You should be. Now you have to stay while I sleep. Keep the nightmares away. Will you?”

“Sure.” A hand stroked his brow. “You sleep, Reilly. I’ll keep the nightmares away.”

*   *   *

Nia stroked his hair back from his brow, watched him as he drifted off to sleep. Yeah. She could stay while he slept. She owed him a few hours at least. Actually, she probably owed all of them her life, and not just for saving it a few hours ago.

But now maybe she could move
on
with her life. Once she let herself grieve for Joely, maybe she could actually have a life. Something she hadn’t let herself think about in far too long. Getting back to her life.

Yeah.

She thought about leaving Ash, Kentucky, leaving behind the ugliness of the past day, the awful memories and the knowledge of what had happened to Joely here. She could do it now.

And although it hurt to think about, she thought about leaving Law.

She’d left her life back in Virginia, after all, right?

Silent, she stayed with him, watching him through the night.

As dawn broke, she made a decision.

She’d done what she came for.

It was time to go.

Law woke to pain, brutal and ugly, and the cold hands of a nurse as she wrapped a blood pressure cuff around his arm. Groggy, he muttered, “What the—”

“Good morning, Mr. Reilly,” she said, her voice cool and flat. “Just checking your blood pressure and your temperature and I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Wow, nice bedside manner you’ve got there,” Nia said from across the bed.

Forgetting about the nurse, he turned his head, stared at Nia. “You stayed.”

She gave him a vague smile. “You asked me to.” Then she looked at the nurse. “You come in here at six in the
morning without bothering to knock. I’m pretty sure that violates hospital protocol, by the way. You don’t bother with an introduction, you jerk the blankets off an injured patient and start messing with him, without any regard to the fact that you’d just woken him up. You didn’t give your name, you didn’t knock, you didn’t bother to draw the curtain for privacy
or
shut the door.”

“Nia—”

The nurse sniffed. “I knocked. Neither of you were awake.”

“Nice try.” Nia bared her teeth. “I’ve been awake for the past three hours, ever since you came in to check his IV. You might have knocked then. You didn’t knock this time.” She peered at the nurse’s name tag and then smirked. “Now why am I not surprised to see your last name is Jennings?”

The older woman clenched her jaw. She started to jerk the blood pressure cuff off Law’s arm, but Nia’s narrowed eyes must have spoken volumes. With exaggerated care, the nurse removed it. “Naturally, I always knock,” she said stiffly. “Perhaps you were closer to sleep than you realize.”

“Ahhh. Perhaps.” Nia flicked Law a glance and then looked at the nurse. “And perhaps you should find another nurse to provide his care. Naturally, you’re distraught about the death of your relative—that would explain why you’re not acting with the concern for your patients that you
should
display.”

Before the nurse could say another word, Nia uncurled herself from the chair and rocked back on her heels. “It really would be best if you did just that. How good would it look if you were reported to the licensing board for less than ethical behavior? Before you answer, be aware … I know how to make that report. And I will.”

Without another word, the woman left.

Law lifted a brow. “Being a bitch isn’t the same as being unethical,” he said.

“It is if she’s doing it just because she’s pissed about her cousin.” She jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “I wasn’t asleep—and she’s nowhere near as quiet as she needs to be when she’s bitching. I could hear her out at the nurse’s station. She was griping about cover-ups and conspiracy crap. If she can’t separate her personal opinion from her professional job, then Nurse Ratchett out there needs to find a different nurse for you.”

He gave her a weak version of a lewd grin. “You know, it makes me hot, seeing you get upset on my behalf.”

“Yeah? What doesn’t make you hot?” She smiled, but it was tight. Strained.

“Hmm. Nurse Ratchett. Doesn’t do a damn thing for me.” He grimaced and shifted on the bed. “Fucking leg. Hurts like hell.”

“I bet.” She came closer, brushed his hair back from his face. “You need anything for it?”

Probably, but he didn’t want anything. It would just make him sleep and right then he wanted to sit there and enjoy being alive—enjoy seeing her. Enjoy knowing it was
over
. “Nah. I’m good.”

“Yeah. I can tell—you look like you’re ready for a walk on the beach.” She bent down and pressed her lips to his temple.

Law took a deep breath, breathing her in. Her scent flooded his head, chased away some of the stink of antiseptic and blood. A little more of the horror faded. It really was over. Maybe now they could start to talk … to think …

“Well, Reilly … I’ve got to say. It’s been an adventure.”

Law blinked at her. “What?”

She shrugged. “Can’t say it’s been boring, right?” She
hesitated and then brushed a hand through his hair. “You take care of yourself.”

For a second, he was caught off guard. Big time. As her lips pressed to his, his mind was spinning in circles, trying to figure out why it sounded like she was saying good-bye.

Then it dawned on him, as she turned away.

She
was
saying good-bye.

Reaching out, he caught her arm, just barely. “Wait—what—you’re leaving? Just like that?”

Nia turned back to him. With a shrug, she said, “What else am I supposed to do? It’s over now. Time for me to get back to my life. I need to start living again, right?”

“But …” He let go of her arm, uncertain of what he had to say. What
could
he say? Damn it. “You just leave.”

“My life is in Virginia,” she said gently. Then, without another word, she turned and walked away.

M
Y LIFE IS IN
V
IRGINIA
.

What life?

Nia stared at the four walls of her empty home and tried to figure out just what it was she’d been coming back to. Because there was nothing. That was exactly what she’d found. Absolutely nothing. The emptiness here threatened to drive her mad.

She’d been back for a week and it was already too long.

It wasn’t the place, though, that was lacking.