Made for You (2 page)

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Authors: Cheyenne McCray

Tags: #western romance

BOOK: Made for You
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Reese hurried back into the house to Kelley, shrugging off his jacket then tearing off his shirt as fast as he could before balling it up and pressing it to her shoulder. “You’re going to be fine,” he said to her. “An ambulance is on its way.”

She was stirring, both confusion and pain on her face as she held her hand to her left shoulder. A look of horror came across her features when she moved her hand away and saw blood on her palm—and then she glanced at Laura Jones’s body.

“Oh, my God,” she whispered in a gut-wrenching tone.

Kelley thought she was going to vomit as she tore her gaze from Laura’s body to Reese, her stomach clenching, pain searing her shoulder. “What happened?” Her words came out in a hoarse voice. “I passed out and then I was shot?” she asked even though she already knew the answer—her mind just didn’t want to process it.

Reese looked grim as he pressed his shirt to her shoulder. He checked the back of her shoulder and she held in a cry of pain. “Looks like the bullet went through.”

He asked her a few questions that she knew were designed to make sure she was coherent. Impatiently, horror growing inside her, she brushed his questions aside.

Guilt stabbed her chest like knives. “Laura’s dead and Belle is gone.” Disbelief and loss of blood made Kelley feel lightheaded, even as she stared at Laura’s body. She heard sirens as she tore her gaze away and looked at Reese. “It was my fault.”

“Don’t start thinking that way, Kelley.” He rarely used her first name when talking with her—he normally addressed her as Petrova and she called him McBride. “Taynor was on the edge. He had every intention of killing Laura Jones and taking the girl.” She saw his jaw clench. “I think the shot that hit you came from a man behind Taynor.”

“I saw him right before I blacked out.” Kelley never cried but she felt heat and a harsh prickle at the backs of her eyes as she gritted her teeth from the pain in her shoulder. She’d never been shot before. She struggled to get ahold of herself. “If I hadn’t passed out—”

“Laura would have been killed regardless,” Reese said.

Sirens sounded in the distance as she said, “You’re full of shit, you know that, Reese? It was my fault.” Just like when her father killed her mother, it was her fault for not being there when she should have been.

This time she’d passed out and hadn’t been there to save Laura.

“Don’t blame yourself, damn it.” Reese helped prop her against a wall as she insisted on struggling to sit rather than remaining on the floor. “It was
not
your fault.”

She was disgusted to find that her head was spinning. She tried pushing him away with her good hand and looked at Laura. Kelley didn’t know why she bothered, considering the hole in Laura’s head and her pale, still body, but nevertheless she asked, “Are you sure she’s dead?”

His mouth was in a thin tight line. “Yes.”

Kelley struggled not to cry out from the pain in her shoulder as she looked at Reese. Her mind was confused, battling between her guilt and all that she had in her life that mattered anymore. “I don’t know anything but being a cop.” She heard the strain in her own voice. “Now I’ve gone and fucked up big time. What the hell do I do?”

“No one needs to know you passed out,” Reese said quietly. “Taynor shot Laura and at the same time you were shot by an unknown suspect.”

She shook her head, a leaden weight on her chest. She opened her mouth to speak but Reese spoke over her.

“You know what happened,” he said slowly as cruisers and ambulances pulled up to the front of the house and cut their sirens, lights flashing through the windows. “Taynor held Belle and Laura hostage with a second suspect backing him up. Then the unknown suspect shot you while Taynor shot the victim and escaped with the girl. There was nothing either of us could have done without the chance that Taynor would hurt the girl. You know that’s what happened.”

Kelley stared at Reese. “But if I hadn’t passed out,” she said again, this time finishing what she’d tried to say earlier, “Laura would be alive and Belle would still be here.”

His mouth tightened. “This isn’t the time to do what you might consider to be the noble thing. Just keep to the story and you’ll go to the hospital and take time off. That’s all you need to do.” When she didn’t answer he narrowed his eyes. His voice was almost harsh as he said, “Understand, Petrova?”

Feeling mute, she nodded as she heard John McBride’s voice coming from the front door.

“Taynor’s long gone,” Reese called out. “We’ve got a body in here.”

Referring to Laura Jones as a body caused bile to rise up in Kelley’s throat. She’d seen plenty of dead bodies in her career, but this one was far worse. She’d been responsible. She swallowed. If she hadn’t passed out, Laura would still be alive.

Kelley bowed her head. Just like her mother would still be alive if Kelley had been there for her.

In the next moment, paramedics were attending to Kelley. She remained mute, pain gripping her as Reese ran through his version of what had happened. She felt weaker and weaker, and it really pissed her off.

An Amber Alert had been issued and locally everyone and their mother had received the alert on their cell phones and it had already been broadcast on radio and television. The alert included the make and model of the truck, Taynor’s name, age, and appearance as well as the missing child’s, and that a second suspect had been seen but remained unidentified.

When John turned away to speak with other officers on the scene, Reese knelt beside Kelley again and looked into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

She swallowed. “I’ll be fine.”

As the paramedics prepared to put Kelley on the gurney, Reese brushed hair from her face. “I’m going to go with you to the hospital.”

Despite the pain in her arm and the spinning in her head, she didn’t want to go to the hospital. She wanted to do something to find Laura’s killer and her daughter, and the second suspect who’d helped Taynor get away.

She didn’t have to say a word—Reese knew her too well. He shook his head. “I know you’ll want to help when you’re out of the hospital, but you’ve got to get it through your head that you’ll need to recover from the bullet wound and the concussion.”

As far as the concussion, Kelley had known something wasn’t quite right. She hadn’t been feeling well, but she’d pushed it aside, certain that she’d be able to function just fine. How wrong she’d been.

Again pressure built up behind her eyes. Old feelings and memories that she’d thought had been long buried rose up inside her. She clenched her hands into fists and took a deep breath and then another one. She had to get herself under control. Had to.

“How bad are you hurt, Petrova?” John McBride stood beside her as the paramedics put her on the gurney.

She was feeling weaker and weaker. “I’ll live,” she muttered.

John frowned. “Something’s wrong, and I’m not talking about the bullet you took in the shoulder.”

He had always been perceptive with a keen cop sense. She thought about telling him the truth but held it back. Reese was putting his own career on the line by lying to cover up her mistake. The least she could do was keep to his story. “I got shot. What the hell else do you think it could be?”

John just studied her. “Take care of yourself.”

Kelley didn’t answer. Instead she fought back tears she refused to cry.

Chapter 2

“I’m fine.” Kelley’s voice traveled down the hospital corridor as Reese walked in that direction. “I want to go home,” she demanded. “And I don’t need any more damned morphine.”

“You’re not going anywhere until the doctor releases you,” came a no-nonsense female reply as Reese reached Kelley’s room. “The doctor already told you that you need to stay until he feels you’re well enough to leave,” the nurse added as Reese entered the doorway.

When he saw Kelley, his gut twisted. The normally tough spitfire of a detective appeared so pale, almost delicate, propped up against the white pillows, an IV attached to the back of her hand. Despite her weak appearance, she still looked mulish as she glared at the nurse.

“Let me have a little chat with Detective Petrova,” Reese said to the pretty dark-haired nurse named Nancy, who he’d met on an earlier visit. She somehow managed to look calm in spite of Kelley’s stubbornness.

The nurse faced him, her back to Kelley, and gave a little smile. “She’s all yours, Detective McBride. Just see that she keeps her butt in bed.”

Reese winked at Nancy. “You bet.”

When the nurse left the room, Kelley glared at him. “I don’t need to be here. I can rest up just as well at home.”

“You, rest?” He snorted. “I think you belong right here as long as they’ll keep you.”

“Humph.” Kelley started to cross her arms over her chest then winced, pain flashing across her face. Still, she did not make a sound even though it clearly hurt her to move.

Guilt stabbed Reese’s insides like a knife. He’d seen that Kelley was still affected by the concussion, but he’d let her go with him to Laura Jones’s place. If he’d just insisted that she wasn’t ready—

Even as he berated himself, he knew that it wouldn’t have done a damned bit of good. Kelley would have gone anyway.

But couldn’t he have done something to keep her from being shot?

He pulled up a chair beside her bed. The colorful bouquet of flowers he’d brought her earlier was on a stand next to the bed with the card beside it. “How are you really doing, Kelley?”

The stubborn look faded. “I’m fine. I should be home. I should be—”

He cut across her words. “Don’t say you should be looking for that bastard, Taynor.” Reese frowned. “You leave that up to Prescott’s finest.”

She let out her breath. He knew she wouldn’t argue that the men and women of PPD were good at their jobs. Still, she said, “But one more person searching for him will bring us that much closer.” She sounded as if she might cry as she said. “I have to do this.”

“What can you do with that shoulder?” Reese said quietly. “Not to mention you’re going to have to go through physical therapy.”

Kelley frowned. “Like I have time for that.”

“You’ll have plenty of time while you’re on leave. You know you need PT if you’re going to get back to a hundred percent.” He reached out and put his hand over hers. “Take it easy, okay? Promise me?”

She looked at his hand covering hers and something he couldn’t define made his heart thump a little faster. When her eyes met his, she had an almost surprised look, as if she had felt something, too.

He squeezed her hand. “Promise me.”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I can’t.”

“Damn it, Petrova.” He moved his hand from hers. “You’re going to make things worse with your shoulder if you’re not careful. If that happens, it will be even longer before you’ll be back to full speed.”

If he didn’t know better, he’d think she was holding back tears. Kelley’s jaw visibly tightened. He knew that on the occasions Kelley had met with Laura, Kelley had had the opportunity to talk with Belle

“He’s out there,” Kelley said. “He killed Laura and he has her daughter. I owe it to Laura to help put the bastard behind bars and get her daughter back safely.” She clenched the fist he’d just touched. “For God’s sake, Belle is only eight.”

Reese dragged his palm down his face. The ghost pains from his missing fingers made his whole hand throb. “I’m on it. I will find them.”

Kelley looked away and stared out the window. Again she looked like she might be holding back tears. After a long moment, she turned back to face him. “Find the bastard,” she said, a fierceness in her voice.

“I will.” He put his hand over hers. “You can count on it.”

Warmth so deep touched Kelley clear to her soul. She’d worked with Reese for almost two years and she’d never experienced anything like this before. She cared for him, would give her life for his, but this was something more.

Had it always been there? Or was she feeling it now because of the fact that she had come so close to death? A couple of inches to the right and the bullet would have entered her heart. Was that why she had these crazy feelings inside her for Reese that she couldn’t control?

Or it could be the fact that her brain was addled with morphine even though the effects were starting to wear off and pain was shooting through her shoulder. Still, maybe the residual morphine was the cause of these funny feelings she was having around Reese.

He released her hand and she immediately missed his touch. “I’ll head down to the station and get to work finding Taynor,” Reese said. “Your job is to get better. Understand?”

She didn’t want to give in. It wasn’t in her nature to sit on the sidelines and not be a part of something so important. And finding Taynor and his daughter were more than important. It could even mean the little girl’s life or death.

“Yeah,” she finally said. “But when I get out of here—”

“You’re going to work on healing and getting into form,” he said, cutting across her words. “I want my partner back.” He squeezed her hand one last time before letting go. “I’ll see you again before you’re released.”

“I don’t plan on being here that long,” she muttered.

He smiled and met her gaze for one long last look. His light brown hair was a little out of place and he had a day’s stubble on his jaws. His vivid blue eyes held hers and she didn’t think he’d ever looked more handsome than he did at that moment. He was muscular with an athlete’s build and he filled out the T-shirt he was wearing in a way that made her heart pattering harder.

It had to be the morphine. She mentally shook her head as he turned away and headed out the door. She watched him as he left, feeling strangely bereft without him there.

She sank against the pillows and looked at the ceiling. Being in the hospital with this injury was definitely addling her brain. Of course she would feel something for her partner after all this time, and not in a romantic way. She cared about him as much as she did because of all they’d been through together. This was just another facet of their partnership. They had been through a lot.

And now this… She was barely conscious of rubbing the pale thin scar on her chin as everything whirled through her mind. She hated this helpless feeling when she should be out there chasing after a murdering bastard, where she belonged.

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