Brad slammed him again, but Ethan grabbed his arm. “He’s out, man. Let’s call it in.”
Brad ignored him, but his partner dragged him off. “See about the girl.”
Ethan’s words registered, and he shoved away from Dunbar’s limp body, grabbed his gun, then staggered toward Lisa. His chest was bleeding heavily, but he didn’t care. Ethan unpocketed his cell phone to tell the others their location, and to call for an ambulance.
Lisa was sobbing and hanging on to her father, but as Brad approached, she looked up into his eyes. The sight of her swollen and puffy face sent fresh fury and anguish through him.
“Brad! He has a gun!” She pushed at her father’s arms to reach Brad, but Dunbar found his gun. Suddenly a gunshot blasted the air.
The bullet ripped through Brad’s lower back, and he fell to his knees. Lisa screamed again, her eyes widening in horror. He twisted slightly, just enough to fire a bullet into Dunbar’s chest. Ethan’s bullet hit the man next. Dunbar fell backward, blood spilling from his chest and mouth.
Brad collapsed onto the dirt, the world spinning. Numbness seeped into his limbs, replacing the pain.
He was going to die.
But Lisa was safe. Safe and alive.
And he could die a happy man.
Because for a heartbeat in time, she had been his.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“NO!” LISA LUNGED TOWARD Brad. She had to get to him. Touch him. See if he was all right.
Her father grabbed her, trying to hold her back, but she shoved him away. “Daddy! Help him!” She crawled across the ground to Brad, sobbing with panic. Blood gushed from his chest and back. He was so still. His eyes were closed.
Was he breathing?
Her father rushed to help her, but she waved him toward Brad. “I’m okay. Help him, Daddy! Please…p-please help Brad!”
Her father dropped to his side and checked for a pulse. Lisa cradled Brad’s hand in hers and pressed it to her chest, rocking back and forth. “Please don’t leave me, Brad, you can’t die.” Sobs wrenched from her, but she was so dehydrated, she started to heave.
“Get her some water!” her father barked.
Brad’s partner knelt beside her, patted her back, then stuck a water bottle to her lips. She drank greedily, the cool water flowing down her throat and spilling onto her chin.
“Shh, slow down,” Ethan murmured.
She coughed and choked, then swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. “Daddy, is he alive?”
“He has a pulse.” Her father gave her a grim look, then removed his handkerchief and applied pressure to the wound. “But it’s low and thready. We have to get him to a hospital fast.”
Ethan punched in the number for the others. “Where the hell are you? We have an officer down! Get an ambulance in here now!”
Lisa gulped another sip of water, then hugged Brad’s hand to her again, her eyes glued to the blood oozing from him. He couldn’t leave her now. They’d gone through too much to have things end this way.
He had saved her once. No, twice. And he’d taken a bullet for her. Three to be exact.
He just couldn’t die.
A group of men burst through the opening, and the next half hour erupted into chaos as they strapped Brad to a stretcher. Her father wrapped a blanket around her and cradled her in his arms. “Shh, baby, it’s going to be all right.”
“I have to ride with him,” Lisa whispered.
“Okay. But I’m going to check you over, get you some fluids.”
Lisa nodded and collapsed against him, terror for Brad zapping her last remaining strength. “Please, Dad,” she whispered. “Please keep him alive.”
“I’ll do everything I can, princess. I promise.”
She nodded again, then her father carried her to the ambulance and settled her inside. The paramedic started an IV while her father gave the orders to begin treating Brad, then the ambulance tore off into the night.
Two days later
BRAD WAS DYING. He saw a light so bright it beckoned him to float toward it. He welcomed the peace and quiet, then almost laughed, wondering why he’d expect peace and quiet.
If he’d died, he sure as hell wouldn’t be going to heaven. No, the devil would take him home where he belonged. He wasn’t a saint, but a sinner.
But at least Lisa was alive.
Her father would take care of her. Brad had seen the tears in her eyes before he’d passed out, though. Heard her cries of terror. And he’d seen the bruises on her face. The bruises she’d sustained because he hadn’t done his job right.
Pain knifed through his chest, his shoulder and his lower back. His legs felt like dead weights. But the pain—wasn’t death supposed to be free of pain?
Not in hell. You burned there for eternity.
Yes, he was in hell. His body was on fire. Pinpoints of fire burning through the muscle and tissue. Flashes of light flickered behind his eyes.
Wait—there was light. But no fire.
He knew because he’d opened his eyes.
“Welcome back to the land of the living.”
He grunted, then blinked to bring the world into focus. Nope. He wasn’t in hell. Not technically. But in a hospital bed with a zillion machines bleeping and tubes attached to his body like battery wires keeping him alive.
He tried to speak, but a croak came out instead.
“You’ve been here two days,” Ethan said. “About time you woke up.”
“L…isa?”
“Is fine. They treated her for contusions and dehydration, and she’s resting on the floor below you.”
He closed his eyes, thanked God for the first time in his life.
The door squeaked open, and Dr. Langley appeared, his expression grim, but better than the last time he’d seen him. “I’m sure you’re in pain now,” Langley said. “But you’re going to be fine, Booker. You need time to heal.”
Brad remained silent. He really didn’t care now if he lived or died.
Ethan stepped away, looked out the window as if to offer them privacy while Langley moved up beside him.
“Thank you for saving my daughter,” the doctor stated.
“She…she’s really all right?” he said in a gruff whisper.
Langley’s mouth tightened. “She will be. She’s a tough girl. Woman.”
Brad tried to smile, but it hurt too damn bad.
Wayne Nettleton burst into the room. “So you are awake, Agent Booker. And you’re in here, too, Dr. Langley. Just the two men I wanted to see.”
Ethan grabbed the man’s arm. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Langley froze and looked at Brad, unsettled issues lingering between them.
Brad shook his head, and Langley’s eyes narrowed.
“Dr. Langley, is it true that the Grave Digger was the recipient of William White’s heart?”
Lisa’s father nodded.
“And is it true that White did not give legal permission to be a transplant donor?”
Langley’s pale face turned gray, but Brad cleared his throat. “I don’t know where you got that information, but you’re wrong.”
Langley gave him an odd look, but Brad continued. “In fact, Dr. Langley was the first one to suspect that the killer might be a recipient.”
“That’s because he took his organs illegally,” Nettleton said.
“You can’t print that,” Brad barked.
“Get out of here, Nettleton,” Ethan snapped. “Agent Booker has had surgery and needs his rest.”
“But the public deserves the truth,” the reporter argued.
“Then we’ll tell them how you were in Vernon Hanks’s room right before he died,” Ethan said. “That you upset him and caused him to go into arrhythmia, then you ran from the room like a coward without calling for help. That if you had, you might have saved the man’s life.”
Nettleton visibly paled and staggered back. “But you can’t—”
“The hospital security has you on tape, and I have two witnesses,” Ethan said in an icy tone. “Just think what will happen to your career at the
Atlanta Daily
when you’re arrested.”
“I didn’t know he was going to die,” Nettleton whined. He glanced at Brad and Langley in a panic. “Please, we’ll make a deal here. I’ll keep quiet about any suspicions over the organ transplants if you don’t press charges.”
Brad lifted a weak hand to rub at his chest. “I told you your information is wrong.”
“Yes, yes, it must be.” Nettleton backed away, pleading with Ethan for a deal. Ethan escorted him out, the man still sputtering.
Langley’s mouth was set in a tight line. “Why did you do that, Booker? I was prepared to come forward with the truth.”
Brad swallowed. God, his mouth was so dry. And he wanted to see Lisa one more time.
“Because we’re more alike than you want to think, Langley.” He paused, tried to moisten his mouth, then muttered, “And we both did what we did for Lisa.”
LISA HAD THOUGHT THE TIME she’d spent in that box had been long, but the past forty-eight hours waiting to find out if Brad would survive were excruciating.
She’d lain in bed and rested, slept the first twenty-four hours, sucked down water and IV fluids, and had finally gotten a bath. One of her father’s nurses had filed her chopped-off nails so they were smooth again—all things to make her feel better.
Gioni had visited, the two of them hugging and crying like children as they’d talked about their close brush with death, and compared the bruises, which had turned a rainbow of purples, yellows and oranges. Gioni had apologized a thousand times, but Lisa had forgiven her instantly. She only hoped her father came to his senses and made things right with Gioni. He needed a wife. And Gioni loved him dearly.
Lisa had seen more emotion in him the past two days than she had for the last four years. And she had hopes that the two of them would be close again.
After all, he had saved Brad. She owed him for that.
The door creaked open, and he poked his head in. “How’s my little princess feeling?”
“Dad?”
His face colored. “I’m sorry, I know you’re all grown up, but you’ll always be my baby.” He walked toward her, his eyes glimmering with emotions she didn’t understand. “Are you feeling stronger today?”
“Yes. Dad, tell me about Brad.” She clutched his hand. “Is he out of intensive care? Can I see him?”
“Yes, and yes,” her father said. “But first there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Can’t it wait, Dad? I need to see Brad.”
He scraped a hand over the back of his neck, then looked at her and nodded. “I’ll get a wheelchair.”
“I can walk.”
She threw the covers aside and reached for the robe he’d brought her the day before. She slipped her arms in the sleeves, then stepped up to the mirror, nearly gasping at how horrible she looked. “I wish I had some makeup,” she said softly, touching her battered cheek.
Her father turned her toward him, then cupped her face in his hands. “My God, Lisa, you are so beautiful.”
“No, Dad, I…I know I’ve disappointed you—”
“Lisa, shh. You are beautiful inside and out. I finally realize my mistakes. That’s what’s important. All I want is for you to be happy.”
She hugged him, tears filling her eyes as he embraced her back.
“I’m so sorry about all this, baby. So sorry.”
“Shh, Daddy, it’s okay. I’m all right and so is Gioni. We’re both strong women.”
He nodded against her hair, and when she looked up, she saw tears in his eyes.
“Daddy, we’re going to be okay. I hope you will.”
“I thought I’d lost both of you,” he said in a broken voice. “I…don’t know what I would have done.”
Lisa’s throat closed. “You’re not losing either one of us, so stop thinking like that.” They hugged for another long moment, then she pulled away and pressed a hand to his cheek. “Please, Dad, I have to see Brad now.”
He nodded and walked her into the hall, then helped her onto the elevator. Her mind whirled with possibilities for the future. Brad had survived, but he’d need time to recover. She wanted to take care of him. Stay with him when he went home until he felt better. Until they could make love again and figure out their future.
But Brad had planned to drive her back to Ellijay. Would he change his mind now if he knew she loved him?
BRAD GRIPPED THE ENDS of the sheet, bracing himself, as Lisa walked into his room. He’d done nothing but think about her since he’d woken up. Hell, he’d done nothing but dream about her while he’d been unconscious. Crazy, ridiculous dreams of holding her forever, of marrying her and having babies and picking apples on Sundays so she could bake him a damn pie.
But between those dreams, unbidden memories of Dunbar yanking her hair, twisting her neck back, of that shovel stuck in the ground, assaulted him. He saw Lisa naked and injured, knew that as long as she was with him, she wouldn’t be safe.
“Brad?”
He faced her, his heart wrenching at the sight of the bruises on her face and her swollen eye. He wanted to reach out and touch the wounds, soothe her with kisses, promise her he’d never let anyone hurt her again.
But he’d done that before. Twice. And he’d failed both times.
A man who did that to a woman didn’t deserve a third chance.
She inched to the bedside, a long white, silky robe knotted at her waist, her hair spilling over her shoulders in silken threads that looked like spun gold beneath the hospital lights. A soft smile formed on her mouth, although the movement accentuated a tiny cut at the corner of her upper lip.
His hands fisted by his side. Damn Dunbar. The hate swelled inside Brad, clenching his insides in a viselike grip.
“I…had to see you.” She reached out, laid her hand over his, and damned if his body didn’t betray him. He curled his fingers up to latch on to her hand, though he was too weak to raise his arm. The last bullet had come damn close to hitting his spine. He still wasn’t sure what kind of nerve damage he’d have. It might take months of rehab before he could walk, and Langley had warned him he might need a cane.
An FBI agent with a cane. Hell, he couldn’t handle desk duty.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
Like a crippled failure.
“Fine,” he said instead. He squeezed her hand, decided he had to be a man and apologize. “I’m sorry he got you, Lisa—”
“Shh.” Tears glistened in her eyes, then she dropped her head forward and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “I’m just glad we both survived.”
He licked his lips, memorized her taste. “He can’t ever hurt you again.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s finally over.”
Brad’s throat grew thick. Yes, it was. But he wasn’t ready for it to be over between them.
Although it had to be. Dragging it out would only hurt more.
He had to let her go. Lisa belonged in the mountains with the fresh air, the kids she taught, those apple trees and her pies.
“I…I wanted to die when I saw you take that bullet,” Lisa admitted in a shaky voice. “And waiting through surgery… I thought it would never end.”
“Shh, it’s over now, Lisa. You can return to Ellijay, to your life.”
Her mouth twisted slightly. “I…I love you, Brad.”
Three words he’d never heard before. Three words he didn’t know how to deal with.
“Get out of here, Lisa. Go back to the mountains.”
She placed her hand over his jaw, and he tensed. “No, Brad…we have something special here, between us—”
He gritted his teeth, planting his mask back on his face. “I was just doing my job, Lisa.”
“I don’t believe that. I…felt something between us.” Hurt tinged her voice. “When we made love—”
“We had sex, Lisa. Men and women do it all the time.” He adopted his poker face. Easier to be a bastard than try to be something he wasn’t. A family man. That was what Lisa wanted, and he had no idea how to be that. “I told you, no promises.”