Search and Rescue by April Wilson
Chapter 15
Hannah McIntyre
After a brief knock, the door to my room swings open and Killian walks in, his expression guarded as he stands just inside the room. His posture is rigid, and the firm set of his jaw tells me something’s up.
I meet his gaze. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
He walks to the foot of my bed. “Did you get a good look at the men who attacked you?”
I shrug. “Pretty good. They were bundled up in winter gear, so what I saw was limited, but I got the basics.”
“Describe them to me.”
A chill runs down my spine, and I don’t like where this is going. “Two Caucasian males, both around five-ten or so, average weight. One had blond hair, and the other had black. Why?”
“Any facial hair?”
“No. They were both clean shaven.”
“How about facial marks? Tattoos? Scars? Piercings?”
“Yes. The guy with blond hair had a crooked nose, as if it had been broken and not set right. His right eyebrow was pierced with two gold hoops, and he had large black plugs in his lobes.”
“And the other guy?”
“The other guy had a scar running down his face.” I trace a line from the top of my right cheek down to my lip. “Why?”
“And they got a good look at you?”
“Unfortunately.”
He glances back at the closed door. Then he crosses the room to grab a guest chair and positions it at the foot of my bed, facing the door.
That’s a little unnerving. “What are you not telling me?”
He shrugs offhandedly, like he’s discussing something as mundane as the weather. “I might have seen someone scoping out the patient rooms just now. He matches the description of the first guy. The blond with the piercings.”
My heart contracts painfully. “Shit. What do we do now?”
“We don’t do anything,” he says, reaching for his phone. “You need to focus on healing. Leave the rest to me.”
I roll my eyes. “Hello, Killian. This is me, remember? I’m not going to sit on my ass while you take all the risks.”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to.” He punches a button on his phone, then says, “We may have a problem. I saw someone here canvassing the patient rooms. He meets the description of one of the tangos.” Killian listens a moment and then says, “Copy. I’ll keep you posted.”
“Who did you just call?” I ask when he tucks his phone into an inside jacket pocket.
“Owen. He’s staying in Bryce a while longer—with Maggie—just as a precaution.”
I sit up, instantly on guard. “You don’t think those bastards would go after her, do you? They didn’t even see her.”
“We don’t know what they saw, Hannah. We don’t know what they know or what they’re willing to do to get leverage on you.”
Immediately, I feel sick to my stomach. “My god, if I’ve put Maggie in danger—”
“You didn’t do anything. Besides, she’s not alone. Owen’s with her, and he’s not going to let anything happen to her.”
It dawns on me that Killian is wearing his jacket, which in the security business means he’s armed. I have no doubt there’s a Glock tucked into his chest holster. “Are you carrying?”
He gives me a look. “What do you think?”
“Are weapons even allowed in this hospital?”
He grins like he doesn’t care. “Nope.”
* * *
A middle-aged nurse with red hair comes to my room that evening to check my vitals. My fever is gone, which of course is a good sign. She changes the bandage on my arm and inspects the sutures.
“Looking good,” she says as she redresses the wound. She refills my water bottle and sets it on the bedside table. “Do you need anything else, hon?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.” That’s not entirely true, but I hate being fussed over.
After she leaves, Killian gets up to close my door. When he returns to his guard post—the chair positioned at the foot of my bed, facing the door—he sits.
I stare at the back of his head—at thick hair the color of fine dark chocolate—and sip my water. Before I know it, I’ve drunk half of it, which turns out to be a mistake because my bladder is suddenly complaining.
Crap.
I glance with dread at the bathroom door, which seems so far away from the bed. I need to pee. I also need to brush my teeth before I fall asleep.
I reach for the pair of crutches leaning against the nightstand. It’s been a while since I’ve used crutches—not since I broke my leg at the age of ten when I crashed my bike into a tree. I smile when I remember how my siblings rallied around me, helping me carry my books to school, helping me up and down the stairs at home. It was a real family ordeal.
Quietly, I sit up and slowly swing my legs to the side of the bed. After my good foot settles on the cold tile floor, I reach for the crutches and position them beneath my armpits.
How hard can it be, right?
As I rise up to stand on my good foot, pain shoots from my broken ankle straight up my leg, making me suck in a sharp breath. “Damn it.” I fall back onto the bed.
A second later, Killian’s there beside me. “Why didn’t you call me first?” He helps me to stand and steadies me when I sway. “Easy does it.” Standing this close, he towers over me. “How badly does it hurt?”
Gritting my teeth, I do my best to shake off the pain. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Hannah.” His tone is laced with disapproval.
“What?”
“Since we’re going to be spending a lot of time together over the next couple of months, we need to establish a few ground rules, okay? One, don’t lie to me. If you’re hurting, then say so. And two, stop pretending you’re invincible. I’m here to help you, so let me do my job.”
“Fine. But I have some ground rules of my own.”
He chuckles. “Such as?”
“One, don’t patronize me. And two, don’t baby me. Despite what it looks like at the moment, I’m not helpless.”
He grins. “You are the farthest thing from helpless. Now, where do you want to go?”
“To the bathroom. I need to pee and brush my teeth.”
His lips flatten as he suppresses a smile and nods toward the bathroom. “Okay. Shall we?”
Killian walks behind me as I hobble across the room, his hands at my sides as if he’s waiting to catch me. It takes me a few tries to get the hang of using the crutches, but eventually it comes back to me. It’s like riding a bike, right? Once you learn, you never forget. Of course, riding a bike was never this painful.
When I make it to the bathroom, he reaches around in front of me and opens the door. “After you.” He motions me inside.
“Thanks, but I’ve got this.” I block him from following me inside. There’s no way I’m letting him come into the bathroom with me. I have to draw the line somewhere.
He frowns. “If you fall, you could do serious damage to that ankle.”
“Let me worry about that. Your job is to protect me from bad guys, not supervise my bathroom activities.”
He laughs. “Sha, my job entails doing whatever da hell needs ta be done. If ya need help pulling down your britches so you can take a piss—”
I love it when his Cajun accent slips out.
Sha. Sweetheart.
The endearment makes me smile. “I don’t need your help pulling my britches down, but thanks for the visual.” I swing myself into the room and turn to close the door.
“I’ll be right out here. Holler if you need help.”
“Roger that.”
I manage to make it over to the little sink, beside which is a small cabinet that holds a basket of complimentary toiletries—a cheap plastic comb, a bar of soap, tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner, a toothbrush and toothpaste. A shower is definitely beyond my capabilities tonight, but I make good use of the comb, soap, and toothbrush. At least I can wash away most of the two days’ worth of grime coating my skin.
After I empty my bladder, I make my way back to the door.
As expected, Killian hasn’t moved from his spot outside the bathroom, where he’s leaning casually against the wall, his arms over his broad chest. “Everything okay?” he asks as I step out.
I swing my way past him. “I’m still standing, as you can see.”
He chuckles. “Easy there, McIntyre. This isn’t the Indy 500.”
His warm laughter follows me across the room, and I have to admit I like the sound of it. He stays right behind me, ready to jump to my rescue at a moment’s notice.
“Look, I admit I’ll need help at the cabin, but I don’t need a nursemaid. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my basic needs, broken ankle or not.”
He nods. “Got it. No nursemaiding.”
I suspect he’s really enjoying this. Even I’m having a hard time keeping a straight face. I have to admit, the situation is a bit preposterous. It’s like we’re characters in a rom-com, suddenly thrust together in a time of crisis, both of us secretly lusting after the other. Well, he’s not so secretive about it. But this is reality. It’s not a movie or a romance novel. And the truth is, I do need him. Well, I need someone, and right now he’s the only one offering to do the job. Beggars can’t be choosers.
But more than that, I want him. At least I’m willing to acknowledge that much, if only to myself.
Once I’m safely settled in bed, Killian opens the door to my room and scans the hallway before closing it again. Then he returns to his post at the foot of the bed.
“You can go get something to eat if you like,” I suggest. “Go grab a coffee, or take a smoke break. Whatever.”
“I don’t smoke.”
“You do eat, though, right?”
He chuckles. “I’m fine. Doan worry ’bout me.”
Honestly, I’m not worried about him. Not one bit. I’m worried about myself and the risk of my ovaries exploding. Having him near me all the time is going to drive me nuts. I don’t think my hormones can take it.
* * *
Morning comes bright and early—too early, as I don’t think I slept more than a couple of hours. My ankle kept me up most of the night—throbbing and aching—and I kept having these weird flashbacks to what happened up on Eagle Ridge. The slightest noise in the hallway outside my room woke me. I even heard Killian get up a couple of times in the night, once to slip into the bathroom, and once to open the door and scan the hallway.
I think we’re both on edge, but maybe for different reasons.
When I wake up to discover a breakfast tray sitting beside my bed, I force myself to eat cold scrambled eggs and dry toast, even though I have zero appetite. When Maggie and Owen stop by for a visit, Killian and Owen step out into the hall and close the door behind them. I think they’re trying to give me and Maggie some privacy.
“So,” Maggie says with a grin as she pulls the guest chair beside the bed and sits. “Killian’s staying, too? That’s what Owen said. Is it true?”
“He is. My brother assigned him as my full-time bodyguard while I’m recuperating, in case my attackers show up again.”
“Do you think they will?”
“I have no idea. But since I saw their faces….” I shrug. “You do the math.”
Maggie frowns. “You should talk to the police. Give them their descriptions, and maybe they’ll know who they are. Or maybe you can look at a binder of suspect photographs or something, like they do on in TV shows.”
I don’t even want to think about criminals coming after me. “What about you? Killian said Owen’s going to stay with you for a while.”
She smiles. “He is. Apparently, your brother Jake decided that you and I both might have attracted some unwanted attention. Killian and Owen are going to hang around Bryce for a while to make sure there’s not going to be any more trouble.”
“Where’s Owen going to stay?”
Maggie shrugs innocently. “With us, in one of the spare bedrooms. Goodness knows we have plenty of room in that big ol’ farmhouse.” Her eyes light up. “Trust me, I’m not complaining. It’ll be nice having a man around the house for a change—you know, for the boys’ sakes. I’m sure they’ll benefit from having a positive male role model around. God knows their father failed miserably in that department. But enough about us. How’s your ankle?”
I glance down at the neon green cast that runs from mid-shin to the ball of my foot. “Same as usual. It still aches, and walking with crutches sucks.”
Maggie laughs but then catches herself. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not funny. I broke my leg once, and I remember how that felt. At least you have a handsome stud to keep you company while you’re healing.” She lowers her voice, as if she’s afraid the guys can hear us through the closed door. “He’s seriously hot.”
Maggie knows all about my crush on Killian Devereaux. Each time I returned home from a visit to Chicago, I talked her ear off about him.
“Yeah, and he lives in Chicago,” I remind her, just as quietly. “You know I don’t want to move back to the city. Visits are one thing, but moving back permanently—no.”
“I don’t want you to move back either. I’m not saying you have to relocate. Just have a little fun while he’s here. It’s not like you’re making a lifelong commitment. He’s going to be living under the same roof as you for weeks, Hannah. A lot can happen in that amount of time. Just go with it.”
I glance down at my cast. “Not likely. There’s nothing remotely sexy about a cast.”
“Hey, sister, you can do a lot of fun stuff with a cast on. Trust me.”
* * *
My family comes back to visit me after breakfast. They take turns sitting with me in my room, in small groups. Around noon, after lots of hugs and tearful goodbyes, they head back to Denver to catch their return flight.
My mom calls me from the road on her way to the airport. “Hannah, please reconsider coming back to Chicago for a while. You can stay with me and your dad, or with one of your sisters. Or, if you prefer to have a place of your own, I’m sure Shane will let you use one of the furnished apartments in his building.”
I sigh heavily. We had this discussion already this morning. “I’ll be fine, Mom. I promise.”
“But until those men are caught, you could still be in danger, sweetheart.”
I hear my dad’s cajoling voice in the background. “Bridget, honey, please. Hannah’s a grown woman. You have to let her make her own decisions. Besides, Killian’s gonna stay with her. You know that boy won’t let anyone hurt her.”
I hear a soft sniffle over the phone. Then Mom says to me, “Let me know as soon as they release you from the hospital, okay? And let me know the minute you get home. Killian’s staying in your cabin with you, right? Under the same roof so he’ll be close at all times?”
“Yes, Mom. He’ll be staying with me in my cabin.”
And lord help me, I don’t know how I’m going to survive having him under the same roof as me for weeks. It’s a small cabin, with only one bed and one bathroom. We’ll practically be on top of each other.
And for some reason, the thought of that makes me a little giddy.
