Deeper Than The Ocean by Julie Ann Walker
Chapter 12
9:18 AM…
“What kind of person doesn’t own a cell phone?” The guy at the admissions desk eyed Wolf suspiciously after he hung up with the cab company.
“The kind who lives on a private island with no cell service,” Wolf answered absently, turning toward the hospital’s front doors. Through the glass, he could see Chrissy standing in the sun. The light glinted off her hair, making it shine gold like the Cherokee Nation flag that flew from his grandmother’sfront porch.
The scrubs the nurse had given her were a size too small. And damn, but he couldn’t stop himself from scanning the sweet curves neither the shirt nor the pants could fully contain. As bodacious as Chrissy’s body was, however, it was her pretty profile that caught and held his gaze.
Her head was back, her eyes were closed, and he watched as peace stole over her features. Watched as trauma was replaced by tranquility, as pain was replaced by placidity.
The gentle ocean breeze that was a constant companion in the Keys ruffled the ends of her messy ponytail. The sun kissed her cheeks. When she dragged in a deep breath, he wondered if she could smell the distant saltiness of the water.
Christina of the Sea.
His island girl.
Well, not mine,he silently admitted. Then he added, not yet, anyway.
Like they always seemed to do, his feet carried him toward her. He’d stepped through the automatic doors when the sound of traffic assaulted his ears. Slightly below the buzz and whir of cars passing by on the road was the unmistakable sound of a poorly tuned engine that backfired as it revved up.
The next five seconds seemed to take five hours. Everything happened in slow motion.
A glance to his left showed a rusty Toyota Celica circa nineteen-ninety-should-be-in-a-junkyard-somewhere speeding through the parking lot, swerving side-to-side like it was being driven by a three-year-old. Or the kind of drunk to open up the bar at eight AM, close it down at two AM, and then spend the intervening hours sleeping it off on a park bench.
At first he thought the sedan would plow into the row of parked cars, and he waited for the screech of metal and the tinkle of breaking glass. But the driver straightened out and the sedan’s bent and broken grill pointed right at Chrissy.
Even though Officer Ryan was closer to her by a good eight feet, the policeman talked on his cell phone and plugged his free ear with a thick finger, making him oblivious to the oncoming catastrophe.
“Chrissy!” Both syllables exploded out of Wolf’s throat like cannon blasts.
He didn’t feel the pavement pounding beneath his flip-flops. Didn’t feel the hot air filling his lungs. Didn’t even notice the scrape of the bay cedar shrub as it grazed the denim covering his back shin when he hurdled over it. All he knew was that the only woman he had ever loved was inches away from becoming a hood ornament, and—
Damn, this is gonna hurt,he thought as she turned to him a split second before he caught her in his arms. Her eyes were wide with shock. Her sweet mouth was open around a startled scream. But she didn’t have time to let loose with it. The Toyota was upon them and he jumped into the air, taking her with him.
Twisting his body so it was his back that slid across the hot metal hood of the speeding car, he did his best to protect her injured shoulder. And then they were airborne again, the unyielding pavement coming up to meet them way, way too quickly.
He heard himself grunt when he hit the ground, Chrissy’s weight driving him into the surface. His lungs felt like they’d been flattened by a mallet, and he would have liked nothing better than to lie there and catch his breath, take stock of his body and Christina’s, but the Celica was making for the parking lot exit and—
“Get—” he wheezed, flinging his arm toward the fishtailing sedan when he saw the uniformed policeman sprinting in their direction. “The plate!” he finally managed.
“No need.” Ryan shook his head, squatting next to them. “I know exactly who that was.” He activated the radio clipped to his bulletproof vest. “Dispatch, this is Officer Ryan over at Lower Keys Medical Center. Be advised, Cliff Barnes is behind the wheel of his Toyota and headed south on Kennedy Drive. Get officers to take him off the road. He nearly ran over a couple of folks, and Lord knows he might not miss next time.”
“Roger that.” A crackling voice sounded from the officer’s radio. “Dispatching units now.”
Apparently, when it came to drunken bumper cars, this Cliff character was a repeat offender. Just my luck,Wolf thought, patting Chrissy’s uninjured shoulder and taking comfort in the sound of her ribald cursing.
He lifted his chin to check on her and found her face-first in his crotch. He’d managed to protect her from the impact, but he’d skidded afterward.
“You okay, darlin’?” His vision had returned to normal and he could clearly see the look on her face was equal parts did that truly just happen? and holy shit!
She made an unequivocal sound at the back of her throat that could’ve passed for either a yes or a no. Tentatively, she felt of the bandage over her shoulder and then nodded.
“I’m so sorry, Miss Szarek.” Officer Ryan was still squatted next to them. “I was on the phone and didn’t hear—”
“It’s okay.” Chrissy cut him off. “Wolf was Johnny-on-the-spot.” She pushed up on her good elbow and then stared down at his crotch.
Now that the danger had passed, the devil that lived in Wolf had him saying before he could think better of it, “You don’t have to do that, darlin’. A simple thanks for keepin’ me from gettin’ my ass run over will do.”
Her lips flattened into a straight line. “Did you binge eat asshole flakes this morning?”
His lungs hadn’t fully recovered, so the laugh that burst out of him sounded wheezy.
“I swear, right when I’m starting to like you,” she added, “you go and prove you’re a…a…”
He used her fumbling to help her stand, taking quick stock of his injures. A cherry on his elbow that would burn like a bitch when he washed it, and maybe a bruised tailbone.
Not too shabby. Considering.
“A what?” he prompted when they were both back on their feet.
“A guy,” she finished with a huff.
Wolf blinked at Officer Ryan, feigning bewilderment. “She says that like it’s a bad thing.”
The policeman shrugged. “My wife says the same thing. No matter how many times I’ve tried to explain she shouldn’t judge me based on something I can’t do a thing about, she judges me all the same.”
Wolf slapped a commiserating hand on Officer Ryan’s shoulder. “Damned by our chromosomes.”
“Oh, spare me from fragile male egos.” Chrissy bent to retrieve the plastic bag that held her belongings. When she straightened, she swayed.
“Whoa.” Wolf grabbed her elbow to steady her. “You okay?”
“I took one of the pain pills.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m feeling a little dizzy. Just let me…” She didn’t finish her sentence. Instead, she threaded her arm through his, leaning heavily against him.
He was in the process of trying to wipe the goofy smile from his face when the police officer’s radio chirped.
“Officer Ryan,” that crackling voice sounded through the speaker, “I have an update on Cliff Barnes. His Toyota was found in a ditch three miles from the hospital, but he’s fled the scene. We have units searching for him now.”
“Roger that.” The policeman shook his head and said to Wolf and Chrissy, “If Cliff isn’t bellied up to the bar somewhere, he’s here at the E.R. trying to score pain meds.”
Chrissy grimaced. “I suppose I should feel sorry for him, but I can’t help hoping he gets put away for a nice long stretch considering he’s the second man who’s tried to make me take a dirt nap in less than twenty-four hours. Heaven help me if what they say is true and the third time’s the charm.”
The thought was enough to have Wolf’s skin going clammy. In response, he wanted to hulk over Chrissy, just snarl and snap at anyone or anything that got too close.
But he satisfied himself with the hand she wrapped around his bicep and decided the occasion—and Chrissy—could both do with a little humor. “Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about that none, darlin’. You’re just about ornery enough to be immortal.”
“Me?” She hooked a thumb toward her chest and then pointed at the scar across his temple. “You’re one to talk.”
“That’s my point.” He grinned. “Takes one to know one.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but closed it when a taxi pulled up beside them. “Oh, thank goodness.” Her uninjured shoulder drooped in relief. “I just want to crash face-first into my own bed.”
Wolf was tempted to ask if she wanted company, but this time he managed to silence his inner devil before the bastard spoke for him. “Your wish is my command,” was all he said as he swept open the taxi’s back door.
Once she was secure in the backseat, he turned to their police escort and voiced aloud the thought that’d been banging around inside his head for the last five minutes. “When I saw that sedan headin’ for her, I thought for sure those bastards from the warehouse were comin’ to finish what they started.”
“Nah.” Officer Ryan gave a jerk of his chin. “This was nothin’ more than a case of wrong place, wrong time.”
“Funny. That’s what Detective Dixon told Chrissy last night about her run-in with the shooter.”
“Woman must’ve walked under a ladder, crossed paths with a black cat, or broken a mirror is all I can say.” The policeman doffed his hat to run a forearm over his sweaty brow.
Wolf chalked up the niggle of apprehension that scratched at the back of his brain to being overly protective—and maybe overly paranoid—when it came to one Christina Rachel Szarek.
“See you at Miss Szarek’s house,” Officer Ryan said before heading toward his vehicle.
Right as Wolf was sliding into the taxi, the wind picked up. It washed over his face and sent fingers through his hair, reminding him of the woman waiting inside the car.
Like the west wind, she was warm and sweet and blustery.
And somehow I have to find a way to make her fall in love with me.