Hard as It Gets (11 page)

Two multi-victim MVAs. A kid with a 105 temp. An overdose. A GI bleed. Several cases of garden-variety chest and abdominal pain. And those were just the ones she remembered off the top of her head.

“I don’t usually get to see you, girl. How you been?” Her pink scrubs bringing out the warm tones in her brown skin, Janeese Evans plunked down on the bench.

Becca managed a small smile at the nurse she’d gone through orientation with years before. Now they tended to work different shifts, but with Becca covering for someone, their paths had crossed. “I’m so-so. How are you?” she asked, resisting venting her fear and frustration at the woman. For the thousandth time, she found herself wishing her best friend, Cassie, still lived in Baltimore. It would’ve been nice to have someone to talk to about all this, but Cassie had moved to Chicago with her new husband right after their wedding two years ago. Now they Skyped every couple of weeks when life didn’t get in the way. Becca didn’t feel close enough to any of her other friends to dump something this serious on them, and wasn’t that a sad statement.

Once they got Charlie back, Becca vowed to pull her life together. Spend more time with Charlie. Take a class. Volunteer for a charity. She’d been doing a little too much going through the motions lately, and that was a damn shame. If anyone knew how fleeting life could be, it was her.

“I’m good. Tyler just turned two.” Janeese beamed, and an empty ache took up residence in Becca’s chest.

“No way. How the heck did that happen already?” Becca didn’t begrudge her friend an iota of happiness, but if Becca was honest, she was lonely. It wasn’t something she dwelled on or let herself feel sorry about, but there was no denying that the past year or two had sorta kicked her butt. Joking around with Nick and Jeremy in their kitchen last night had been a stark contrast to her usual solo routine. Even though she didn’t know them well, it had felt nice to be a part of a family for a few hours, even if from the periphery.

“I know. It’s crazy. He’s so big and never stops talking and chasing the dog. Hey, are you okay?” She leaned forward. “What happened to your face?” The woman arched a questioning brow.

“My house got broken into last night—”

“Shit, really? You okay? Is that what that’s from?” Janeese gestured to Becca’s temple.

Becca shook her head. She couldn’t talk about Charlie, not if she expected to finish out her shift. “I’m okay. I’ve got a friend helping me. It’s just that the intruder picked the lock, so I need to get new ones installed before I can stay there.” She supposed “friend” was a fair description for what she and Nick were.

“Police doing anything?” Janeese asked.

“They filed a report.” Which wasn’t going to get Becca much. Especially in Baltimore, where the crime rate was sky high.

Janeese seemed to agree. “Hmph.”

“Want one?” Becca asked, tilting the package of crackers toward her. They weren’t helping her stomach after all. God, it felt like the clock was ticking backward.

“Sure,” Janeese said, taking one. They munched crackers in silence for a few minutes. “Hey, look at that.”

Becca followed her friend’s gaze to the open end of the courtyard, where a sidewalk veered around to the ambulance bay. A little dog sniffed a trash can. As he came around the other side, Becca sucked in a breath. He only had three legs. One of his hind legs was gone. She rose to her feet. “Have you seen him before? He looks like a puppy.” Becca’s heart squeezed.

“Uh-uh.”

“Aw, let’s go see him.” They crossed the grass, passing several other hospital staff who were watching the little guy, too. When Becca got close, she crouched down and held out her hand. “Hey, buddy.”

The dog—a German shepherd, she guessed—paused and tilted his head her way.

“Oh, my God, he’s all ears.” His sweet face and oversized ears were mostly black, while his chest and paws were a warm, caramel brown. The puppy’s coloring reminded her so much of Wyatt, their family dog, who was already an old man when they were all kids. Wyatt had followed Charlie around like he’d thought he couldn’t let the youngest Merritt out of his sight. The mutt had even slept with Charlie.

“Wonder how it lost its leg,” Janeese said.

And so young, too. He couldn’t have been more than a few months old. “Come here, boy.”

After a moment, the shepherd hobbled over on enormous paws. He was surprisingly stable and wore no collar or tags, which could have explained why he was a bit scruffy around the edges. “Hi, boy. Er, oh, girl.”

She licked and nipped at Becca’s fingers with her sharp puppy teeth, then flopped over and offered her stomach.

Becca laughed. “Silly little thing, aren’t you?”

Janeese crouched down beside them. “Must be a stray. Shame on whoever would dump a puppy like this.” She got lured into the belly scratch, too.

The shepherd rolled onto her paws and toddled around them. Becca scratched her back, the cuteness and memories of Wyatt wrapping tendrils of temptation around her heart. With everything going on, could she really take on another responsibility right now? But the puppy was all on her own, and so was Becca. “Maybe I could take her home,” she said, trying out the idea and giving Janeese a sideways glance.

She laughed. “You’re getting sucked in, aren’t you?”

Becca chuckled. “Kinda. Yeah.”

“Well, she seems friendly enough. And shepherds are good guard dogs. Police use ’em. Might give you some peace of mind after what happened.”

Well, that was true, and it certainly gave Becca a logical argument for considering this craziness. The puppy laid down by Becca’s feet and found one of her shoestrings to snack on. Her big ears were so silky. “I guess I could take her to the vet and see if she’s okay. And then, maybe . . .” She left the rest of the thought unspoken, but even so, the idea was planting deep roots in her mind and her heart. This sweet girl needed a home, and Becca wouldn’t mind the company. “Come here, you.”

The puppy was a chunky sack of potatoes in her arms, all paws and snout and ears, but so, so cute. And warm. And cuddly. An enormous pink tongue sideswiped her cheek, making Becca laugh as she stood up. She was going to have to change shirts after this, but she couldn’t find it in herself to regret holding the dog.

“Aw, you’ve gone and done it now. Picked her up. You are
doomed
.”

Janeese was right. The more Becca entertained the idea of keeping her, the more she wanted to. “Yeah, I think I am.” Smiling, she glanced around. “But what am I going to do with her for the rest of my shift?” Oh, and she couldn’t take the dog on the bus. “Do you think—” Her phone vibrated against her hip. “Oh, hold on.” She fished the cell from her pocket, swiped to answer the call, and put it to her ear all while dodging more wet puppy kisses. Laughing, she said, “Hello?”

“Becca, it’s Nick.”

It’s a sign! Maybe he can still take me home
. “Oh, hey. You know, I was just thinking about asking you for a ride after all—”

“Becca, listen to me. I’m on my way to you right now. You need to stay in a safe place. Stay inside and off the street. I’ll come into the ER for you when I get there.” His car motor revved in the background.

Tingly goose bumps broke out over her body. “Why? What happened?”

“I’ll explain when I get there. Just do what I’m telling you.” His tone was stone cold and tight.

“Okay.” Dread flooded ice along her nerve endings, and tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Is it Charlie?” she whispered.

“No. You stay somewhere secure, you hear? Becca?”

“Yeah. I will.”

The line went dead.

Chapter 10

A
s she lowered the phone, Becca glanced around the courtyard. The sunny spring day suddenly seemed so out of place, almost sinister in perpetuating the lie that everything was good, nice, pleasant.

“What’s the matter?” Janeese asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. My friend’s on his way to get me, but he wouldn’t say why.” Becca ran her hand over the puppy’s ears and neck, the soft texture of her coat giving Becca something else to think about. Something besides the bad news Nick was bringing her way. It had to be Charlie. Didn’t it? But Nick said it wasn’t, and he wouldn’t lie to her.
What else could it be? Maybe my house is bugged after all?
“He told me to stay inside, to stay somewhere safe. Maybe it has to do with the break-in?”

“Holy shit, girl. Well, let’s go in the break room, then.” Janeese wrapped her arm around Becca’s shoulders and guided her. “Should you call the police?”

“I wouldn’t know what to say.” Not yet, anyway. A sour taste rose up the back of Becca’s throat. She swallowed, hard, but it wasn’t enough to wash away the rising tide of panic. “I can’t take the dog inside, though.”

“Don’t even worry about that. You stay in the room with her until your friend comes, and it’ll be fine.”

Becca nodded, and so many worst-case scenarios paraded through her mind that they accumulated into a deafening rush of white noise that left her feeling strangely detached. In fact, the only thing she could really feel was the dog’s warmth and softness, the gentle rise and fall of her breathing.

Janeese swiped her ID and opened the exterior door to the break room, and Becca was relieved to find the room empty. “You wait here. I’ll go find Donna and send her back,” Janeese said.

That was good. Becca needed to talk to the head nurse anyway about taking some time off. “Thanks. Oh, my friend’s name is Nick Rixey. Can you buzz him in when he gets here?”

“Yeah. Be right back.” Janeese slipped into the hallway, the hustle and bustle of the emergency department spilling in through the open door.

When it shut, Becca put the puppy on the floor. “Want some water, pretty girl?” The answer was an enthusiastic yes, if the speed with which the puppy drank was any indication. Whatever was going on, at least this whole area was secure. No one could get back into the ER without being admitted by the desk nurse or swiping a UMC badge.
Just hang on for a few minutes, Bec. Nick will be here soon
. She heaved a breath. “Stay here for a minute, ’kay?”

The dog looked up, cocked her big ears, then dove back into the dish Becca had set down for her.

Becca slipped into the adjoining locker room and wound her way to the second row. It was a good thing she’d had this lock so long, or the fog hovering around her brain would’ve kept her from remembering the combination. She removed the lock, grabbed her purse, and resecured the door.

Woof!

Jogging back to the break room, she hoped no one else had heard the animal. No doubt the puppy would be a big hit with the other nurses, but Becca didn’t want to disturb any of the patients. She pulled open the door to find her new best friend sitting and waiting right on the other side.

“Don’t worry, I’m here,” Becca said, crouching down and petting the scruff of her neck. “You need a name. What am I going to call you?” The dog tilted her head to the side as if trying to decipher the words.

The door to the hall opened, and Becca cut her gaze across the room.

A bald-headed man in a facilities uniform stood in the breach. “ ’Scuse me,” he said.

For a moment, she braced for trouble, but then she saw the badge clipped to his shirt pocket. “Can I help you?” Becca said, standing.

He looked around the space. “Doing a check for lightbulbs that need to be replaced.” He pointed to the fluorescent ceiling fixture in the corner by the exterior door, dark where all the others were illuminated.

“Oh, of course.” She hefted her purse up on her shoulder and shooed the puppy away from chewing on her fingers. Mouthy thing.

The man crossed to the closest table and set his toolbox down. The dark skin of his arms was covered in raised scars and ink, and she wondered if her brain would’ve even registered the latter before she’d walked into Hard Ink a few days ago.

Becca picked up the dog so it didn’t bother the maintenance man and crossed to the door. Maybe Janeese had gotten snagged on a code and Nick was out there but didn’t know where to find her?

Her fingers brushed the doorknob, and something grabbed her from behind. The rough contact was so unexpected that she didn’t realize what was happening until a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm banded around her chest.

With a strangled cry, she grasped at the hand nearly smothering her, forgetting about the dog in her panic and dropping her to the floor. The puppy yelped and scrambled to her feet.

The man hauled her backward toward the courtyard door. Becca dragged her Crocs, losing both in the process, and tugged and scratched at her attacker’s arms. Victory flared through her when he released her chest. Until something sharp jabbed into the side of her ribs.

Cold fingers dug into her face, demanding her attention. “When we step outside, you’re going to walk beside me. No screaming, no more fighting. Or else I’m going to slide this blade in nice and deep.” He poked it harder for good measure, and Becca gasped into his palm at the sting.

A rolling growl drew Becca’s wide-eyed gaze back to the dog, whose show of teeth, braced posture, and downward tail all read aggression.

Metal clanked and cool air blew from behind her. The man slowed up, like maybe he was scoping the scene first. “Real friendly now, Miss Merritt,” he rasped, way too close to her ear. He knew her name? “I’d hate to have to hurt any witnesses who saw me shank you.”

Dread crawled over her skin.
God, Nick, where are you? Please be here.
Every instinct inside screamed that she’d be lost for good if this guy got her out the door.

The puppy’s growls crescendoed in volume.

“Here we go,” the man said.

White-hot terror washed over every inch of her, and in an instant she decided she’d rather take her chances getting stabbed than abducted to God only knew where. Becca gripped the molding around the door with both hands and braced for the slicing pain.

“What’d I tell you, bitch?” The knife jabbed.

She cried out, losing her grip with one hand, and the dog went crazy barking. It charged and attacked the man’s leg, but a kick sent the puppy sprawling with a whimper. She didn’t stay down. Wobbly legs back under her, she barked and lunged again.

The door across the room exploded open.

Nick burst in, weapon raised, stance ready, expression absolutely deadly. “Let her go, and I’ll consider not planting some lead in your eye socket.”

The bad guy’s knife twitched, and Becca clasped her hands together and wrenched back with her left elbow with all her might. Whatever she’d connected with earned her a satisfying grunt and had the desired effect of diverting whatever plans he’d been making with the blade. Suddenly, she was free, and a hard shove to her back sent her sprawling face-first to the floor. Trying to catch herself, she landed funny on one hand, and her forehead glanced off the floor.

Her attacker fled out the open door as Nick called her name.

Footsteps crossed the room, then stopped at the sound of a long, low growl.

Groaning, Becca pushed onto her elbows. Her little guardian had placed herself between Becca’s prone form and Nick’s advance.

His expression managed to be livid and bewildered at the same time.

Making a little calling sound with her mouth, Becca caught the puppy’s attention. “ ’Sokay, girl. He’s a good guy.” She held out her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, the shepherd whined and lay down by Becca’s shoulder.

Nick holstered his weapon and came around to her back. Easing his hands under Becca’s arms, he said, “Can you sit up?”

“Yeah,” she rasped, holding her breath as every joint protested the movement. “Thank you,” she managed. “For getting here in time.”

Metal scraped along the floor. “Chair right behind you. On three.” He counted off and lifted her into the chair.

Her whole body sagged into the plastic.

“Becca?” a voice asked from the doorway, where a slack-jawed crowd had gathered. Janeese. Donna. Alison, the nurse she’d been subbing for. Others whose names she couldn’t immediately bring to mind in the moment. Becca nodded.

They poured into the room, a momentary shocked silence followed by everyone talking at once.

“What the hell happened?” Janeese asked.

“A maintenance man grabbed me,” Becca said. “Nick scared him off and he fled out the door.”

“Did you recognize him?” Donna asked.

Becca shook her head just as Barry, one of the hospital security officers, pushed into the room, followed a few minutes later by Tomás and Mike, two BPD officers she knew pretty well. They’d been hanging in the ER waiting to take witness statements. She groaned inside, especially as Nick’s silent agitation became more pronounced in the tension of his muscles and ticking of his jaw.

“Becca, are you cut somewhere?” Janeese pointed and knelt next to her. “Honey, you’re bleeding.”

She twisted to the left. A line of crimson was soaking into the green of her scrubs. Lifting her ripped shirt, she frowned. How did she not feel that gash? “Oh,” she said. Her gaze lifted to Nick, standing next to her, his eyes trained on her wound and absolutely on fire. That blazing glare lit onto her face next. As reserved as he looked on the outside, she doubted anyone else in the room realized that he was an active volcano on the inside.

The next ninety minutes passed with her giving a statement to the officers, being admitted, and getting stitches—the cut wasn’t too deep, so she only needed four—winning an argument about keeping Nick and the puppy in the room with her, and failing to get Nick to tell her why he’d come racing to the hospital in the first place. If all that wasn’t enough, she also had a visit from the hospital lawyer, who was clearly trying to feel out whether she was going to sue, but on the upside they told her to take off as much paid time as she needed to recover. And given the situation with Charlie, that was a godsend.

By the time she was discharged, the adrenaline letdown had kicked in with a vengeance, leaving her tired, shaky, and feeling a whole lot like she’d been hit by a Mack truck.

Carrying the puppy like a football under his left arm, Nick guided her out to his car. He kept her a half step in front of him, his big body shielding hers from the side and back as they crossed to the sidewalk and paused at the curb.

He opened the car door and eased her down. Carefully, Becca lowered into the passenger seat and accepted the dog into her lap.

The door slammed so hard it shook the car. Nick stalked around the hood, very clearly still on full alert. He ripped a parking ticket from under the wiper and sank into the driver’s seat. Another slam. And then the car came to life on an exaggerated roar of the engine.

The puppy shrank into her chest, and Becca eyeballed Nick. Everything about the rigid discipline of his movements and the deafening volume of his silence screamed rankly pissed off.

Shifting in her seat, she reached across and placed her hand on his arm. His muscles locked up tight under her touch and his posture and expression painted a billboard for
Back the hell off,
but Becca couldn’t wait another moment.

“Nick, I need to know. What happened?”

A
FTER EVERYTHING ELSE
this day had thrown at him, it was her touch that threatened to break him. Because it made Rixey want to haul her into his lap and prove with his mouth and his hands and his cock that she was okay.

It was the adrenaline high talking. He knew it and had experienced it before—the need to grab onto life with both hands and not let go. After all, he hadn’t known Becca Merritt long enough to explain those urges any other way. Right?

Shy of a good, long fuck to even him out, Rixey would settle for punching something. Hard. And repeatedly.

So close.
He’d come so close to losing Becca. When he’d opened the door and seen that asshole yanking her out the other side, his paws touching her skin, Rixey’d yearned to lay that motherfucker
out
. Even now, lethal intent surged through his veins until he could barely breathe. No way he could examine all of the whys of that right this second.

“Nick?”

Her voice wrenched him from his thoughts, but not out of the dark, violent headspace. “Not now. I can’t talk to you right now,” he managed. His emotions were too volatile. Anger roiled too close to the surface. Aggression surged through him. “Let’s just get home.”

Not waiting for a reply, he veered out into traffic, his gaze making a constant circuit from the windshield to the rearview mirror to the side-view mirrors. He bet dollars to donuts they’d pick up a tail. Sure enough, within a block he was certain the gray van five cars back was following them. Just in case, he made a few choice last-minute turns and gunned it through the dying breaths of every yellow light he encountered. Either he lost the van, or paranoia had gotten the best of him and it’d never been in pursuit in the first place.