Stitched Up Heart (Combat Hearts Book 1) (35 page)

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Authors: Tarina Deaton

Tags: #Combat Hearts, #Book One

BOOK: Stitched Up Heart (Combat Hearts Book 1)
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Bree sat in her car and let the air conditioner cool down the interior. Screw it. She pulled the office employee roster from her purse and tapped Cindy’s address into her GPS. The directions led her to a well-maintained apartment complex north of the base. Cindy’s car wasn’t in any of the spaces close to her apartment, and no one answered when Bree knocked. The only window visible on the small, second-story threshold was covered by a thin curtain.

Bree hit the bottom step as Cindy’s downstairs neighbor exited his apartment, carrying a bag of trash. “Excuse me. Hi. Do you know the woman in 2C?”

“Cindy?” he asked. “Yeah. Nice girl. Kind of quiet. Why?” He set the bag of trash down on the grass next to the walkway.

She fiddled with her keys. “She didn’t come in to work this morning. Did you happen to see or hear her?”

“That’s weird. She left at the normal time. I work nights, so I’m usually coming in as she’s leaving. We waved as we drove past.”

“Shoot. Thanks. If you happen to see her, would you ask her to call her boss?”

“Sure thing. Hope she’s okay.” He leaned down and picked up the bag.

Bree gave him a tight smile. “Me too.”

She continued to think about Cindy on the drive home, and her mind flip-flopped between thinking Cindy was just sick and thinking she was lying in a pool of blood. Shit. Who could she call?

“Tim!” She sat upright in her seat. She was such a ditz. She checked her rearview mirror as she pulled to a stop at the intersection. Grabbing her phone from the console, she pulled up her contacts and thumbed Tim’s number. His voice boomed out over Bluetooth and she adjusted the volume.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey. How long do you have to wait before filing a missing person report?” She checked for traffic and turned right onto her street.

“My brother missing in action already?”

Bree laughed. “No. Someone at work.”

“Depends on the situation. Who’s missing?”

“My medical technician.” She pulled into her drive and shut off the engine. “She didn’t come in or call.” She grabbed her bag from the passenger seat and got out of the car.

“—the norm.”

“What? Sorry, my Bluetooth switched off. I missed most of that.”

“I said, I take it that’s out of the norm.”

“Yeah.” She unlocked the mudroom door.

“When was the last time you heard from her?”

She dropped her bag on the bench beside the washer and hung her keys on the hook by the door. “Last Friday, when I left work.”

“Where does she live?”

“Fayette—. Someone’s here.” She paused in the doorway leading to the kitchen.

“Here where? Where are you?”

“My house.”

“Don’t go in.”

“I’m already in.”

“Leave. Now.”

“Oh, good. You’re finally home.”

C
indy stood by the kitchen counter, her blue hospital scrubs stained with large dark splotches. Blood. Blood also dotted her hands.

Bree set her phone on the counter to her left, still connected to Tim. “Cindy. What are you doing here? I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

“I’ve been waiting for you.” She sounded…chipper. Excited. The same feverish excitement shone in her eyes. A whimper sounded from the dining room. Cindy’s head whipped around to look over her shoulder, then back to look at Bree. “Come see.” She walked into the dining room, to one of the ladder back chairs, and the person tied to it. She rocked the chair and turned it, revealing a petite blonde woman.

Katherine
. Bree’s heart pounded in her chest.

Cindy picked up the folding hunting knife laying on the table. “He left you on Sunday and went to her.”

Katherine stared at Bree, beseeching. A gag was pulled tight against her mouth and tears streaked her face, mascara blending with blood that ran from a wound high on her temple. She struggled against the rope binding her arms to the chair. Bree scanned the cuts along her arms. They bled freely, but appeared to be superficial. Defensive wounds, maybe. Large spots of blood seeped through her pink top over her stomach, which worried Bree, unable to see the actual wounds.

Oh, Cindy. What have you done?
Bree’s gaze flicked to Cindy. “Who left me, Cindy?”

“Chad! Chad left you and went to her.” She emphasized her words by pointing the knife between Bree and Katherine. “Did you know he slept with me?” She began to pace back and forth. Three short steps away. Three short steps back. “The night you met him. He told me I was beautiful. And special. Took me home with him.”

What was she talking about?
“Cindy, you weren’t there that night.” She continued to assess the situation as she took a small step closer to Cindy, edging her way between Cindy and Katherine. If she could distract Cindy while she was away from Katherine, she might be able to get the knife away.

“I was. I was there. I went to support you.” Cindy shook her head, staring at the floor as she paced. “I wasn’t invited. Snuck in. To see you. You were presenting, and I knew you were nervous. I heard you talking about it.” She stopped and faced Bree. “But that’s what makes you so wonderful. You did it for your grandmother. You always go out of your way for people.”

“Why are you doing this, Cindy?” Bree spoke softly, trying to keep her voice soothing.
Keep her talking.
Shit. Please Tim, get here soon.

Cindy’s face twisted and anger blazed from her eyes. “Because you don’t deserve this.” She pointed her knife at Katherine, who whimpered.

Bree flinched toward her, but Cindy only gestured with the knife. “I don’t understand. Help me understand.”

Cindy began pacing again. “I saw an article about you. When you got your medal. You’re such an inspiration. You saved those people. You inspired me.”

Is she talking to me or herself at this point?
She took another small step forward.

“I followed you. In the news. There were a lot of articles about you at first, but they dwindled off.”

God, she’d hated those news stories. Enlisted hero. Woman hero. She’d just been doing her job.

“Later, I saw an article about you graduating from Physical Therapy school and going to work at Fort Bragg.” Cindy stopped again, her eyes bright with happiness. “Then, I found a job listing for a medical assistant at the hospital and I knew, I
knew
, it was meant to be. I’d only hoped to work near you, but I found out I was going to be your assistant. I was so happy.” She clasped her hands together, the knife gleaming near her face. “And you’re everything I knew you’d be. So nice. You encouraged me to take classes when you found out I dropped out of nursing school. Your patients love you.” She pivoted sharply to glare at Katherine. “And those women
dishonored
you.
Disgraced
you.” She took a step toward Katherine, the knife half raised in her hand. “With Chad.”

She is batshit crazy
. “Cindy.” She looked at Bree, her head turning in slow motion. “It’s not Katherine’s fault.”

Cindy’s face fell. “You know her name? Why do you know her name?” Her voice was harsh.

“Chad told me about her. I know they’re dating.”

“And you accept that?” she screeched.

That was the wrong thing to say. Way to go, Marks.

“Why do you keep taking him back? He’s a liar and a cheat. He’s never going to love you!”

Calm. Calm. Keep her calm.
Bree put her hands out in front of her. “Cindy, please. I didn’t take Chad back. We’re not together.”

“You are! I saw you. I saw you hug him.” She pointed the knife toward Bree. “You let him in your house. You let him touch you.”

“He apologized, Cindy. That was all. I’m in love with someone else.”

“You can’t forgive him. You can’t forgive
them
.” She stepped closer to Katherine. “You have to understand. She has to pay.” She pulled her arm back. Katherine screamed behind her gag.

“No!” Bree lunged forward and raised her left arm, blocking Cindy’s thrust. The blade stung as it slid along her forearm.
Grab the shirt. Spin. Shift weight. Thrust hip. Leave it up to momentum.

Forward motion and gravity threw Cindy forward. Her toe caught on the edge of the carpet and she tumbled to the floor, landing hard, and gasped. She tried to push herself up but collapsed, a pool of blood forming under her head.

“Cindy?” A wave of dizziness washed through Bree. What? Her arm. A four-inch gash ran across the inside of her forearm. Bright red blood spurt freely. Shit. She clamped her hand over the cut. Her vision began to fade, blackness encroaching from the edges.

Can’t black out. Need to stop the bleeding
.

Her knees buckled as Tim rushed into the kitchen, gun drawn. “Bree?” Detective Johnson and another officer followed behind.

Only a pinpoint of light was visible through the tunnel. “Tourniquet.”

“Marks! Get your ass back here. Damn it. Cover her!”

She crossed the expanse between vehicles, sliding on her knees behind the mangled rear bumper of the Humvee, the rear door wide open. She flinched, small pieces of metal ricocheting off the corner.

“Hold on. I’ll get you out of there.”

The soldier reached down and released his seat belt. He stepped out of the Humvee, uninjured.

“What—?” She stood and took a step back.

“You don’t belong here, Bree. You have to go back.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I have to save them.”

“You saved everyone you could. It’s time to let go.”

“No. I have to get it right.”

Beep
.

“There’s nothing to get right. None of this was in your control.”

Beep
.

“I should have been faster. I should have gotten to you sooner.”

Beep
.

“If you had gotten to me sooner, you’d be dead too. It wasn’t your time then. It isn’t your time now, Bree.”

Beep

beep

beep

The high-pitched, steady sound invaded her consciousness. She cracked her eyes open, struggling against the lethargy that fought to hold her under. She closed, then opened her eyes again. A narrow bed. White sheets. Her eyes closed again.

“Bree?” Her head was heavy, weighed down as she tried to find the familiar voice. “Stay with me, darlin’.”

Jase
. His voice was rough. Strained. She struggled harder to wake up.

“Open your eyes, baby.” His warm lips pressed against her forehead. High on her cheek. Her lips. She cracked her eyes and he filled her narrow vision. His thumb brushed across her eyebrow. “There you are.”

Her eyelids drooped. She moved her thick, dry tongue around her mouth, unable to work up any moisture. “Water.” Her voice croaked. His touch left her. A sharp touch against her parched lips made her flinch.

“It’s a straw, baby. Open your mouth a little.”

Eyes still closed, she parted her lips. The cool water brought instant relief. The straw left her mouth all too soon.

She struggled to open her eyes again. To know for sure Jase was with her. She blinked several times, finally able to keep them open for more than a few seconds.

“Where am I?” She braced her arms on the bed to shift up and hissed in pain.

“Here, let me help you.” He grabbed the control beside the bed and raised the back so she was upright. “You’re in the hospital.”

She looked down at her arm, bandaged from her wrist to her elbow.
Fuck
. “Katherine?”

He sat in the chair pulled close to the bed and held her hand. “She’s in a room down the hall.”

She nodded and swallowed. “Cindy?”

He brushed her hair back. “She didn’t make it. The knife nicked an artery in her neck when you threw her.”

Her eyes welled up. She turned her head and covered her eyes with her good hand, the I.V. pulling at her hand.

“Oh darlin’, don’t.” His lips against her forehead. She heard rustling and then his long body wedged its way next to hers. She scooted toward the rail to give him some more space and turned her head into his shoulder as he slid his arm under her neck.

She soaked the material under her cheek. Sniffing, she tried not to rub her nose on his shirt. “Do they know why?”

“Detective Johnson has some ideas. He’s been by every afternoon. You can ask him later.” His fingers toyed with her hair. Her eyes drifted shut, tears leaking from the corners.

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