The Doctor's Defender (Protection Specialists Book 3) (12 page)

BOOK: The Doctor's Defender (Protection Specialists Book 3)
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Swinging his legs over Brenda’s lap, he said, “Grab the knife.”

She managed to slide the weapon from the sheath just as a loud explosion filled the air. The vessel shuddered. Brenda screamed. The boat keeled to the right. Unsecured, Kyle and Brenda went tumbling across the bed to land in a heap against the wall. The knife skittered across the blue carpet and clattered to a stop against the wood a few feet away.

Commando-crawling, Kyle reached the knife and worked the blade beneath the plastic tie binding his feet together.

Brenda lay motionless on the wall that now was their floor. Icy fear froze his blood. He quickly cut her bonds, realizing she’d hit her head when they’d crashed into the wall. A nasty red lump formed above her temple.

“Come on, Brenda, wake up,” Kyle said, his voice thick with urgency.

He stuck the handle of the knife between his teeth and brought his hands up to cut the zip tie. Once his hands were free, he gathered Brenda into his arms. Water seeped in from the cracks around the door. The rushing sound of water filling the hull roared in Kyle’s ears. The cabin door bowed under the pressure. Any second the hinges would give and the room would fill. Kyle wasn’t afraid for himself. He could swim out no sweat. But with Brenda unconscious, he couldn’t stop her from breathing in the lake water and drowning. He needed her awake.

Panic flared white-hot. He patted her cheeks. “Come on, honey, wake up.”

She stirred and batted at his hands. “What? Stop.”

Relieved, Kyle pressed his lips to her forehead. “Okay, time to get out of here.”

“What happened?”

“You hit your head. I hope you can swim,” he said.

“Of course I can swim.” Her gaze shifted away from his. She gasped. “We’ve tipped over. We’re taking on water.”

“Yep on both accounts.” He slid an arm around her waist. “Any second now that door is going to give, and this room will fill with water. I want you to be ready.”

She swallowed. “Ready to die?”

Her tone hinged on the edge of hysteria. He needed her to stay calm. “No. You’re not going to die. I won’t let you.”

“Why is this happening? Who wants me dead so badly?”

Kyle wished he had answers. But he was more concerned with getting to the surface. The door creaked. One hinge popped. “We’ve got to move.”

He hustled her to the far corner, where they wouldn’t be in the direct path of the water when it crashed through the door. “Deep breath. Fill your lungs.”

She did.

“Again.”

Just as they both sucked in air, the door gave. A crush of cold water flooded the room, quickly filling the space and chasing away the air. Buoyant, Kyle treaded water and let the rising tide carry him and Brenda upward toward the portside window. As the water rose, covering their chins, he used the blade to dig out the edges of the glass in the porthole.

“Kyle?” Brenda had her nose and mouth pressed against the wood. Water lapped at her face, threatening to cover her completely.

“Hold tight.” He worked the glass from the pane. He gulped in air. “Here. Breathe.” He needed to find a way out of this watery coffin. “I’ll be right back.”

He pushed her toward the opening, which was just big enough for her to stick her face through. Sheathing his knife, he dived beneath the water to swim through the door into the main cabin and up to the surface, counting the seconds as he went. He broke free of the water and gasped for air. An easy two minutes underwater. The yacht was on its side and quickly going under. Moonlight reflected on the sailboat’s hull, where a gaping hole had been ripped into the aft. Their assailants had used C-4. Not enough to blow them completely out of the water, just enough to sink the boat.

Kyle reached the window. Brenda’s fingers gripping the edge and her pale face were the only things he could see.

“I’m coming in to get you. But I need you to listen carefully,” he said.

She nodded. Light from the moon showed the dilation of her dark pupils. She was going into shock.

“When I come to you, I’ll tap your shoulder. When I do that, you take a deep breath and hold it. Then you’re going to put your arms around my neck and we’ll swim out.”

“I can’t do that,” she said.

“Yes, you can. I know you can.”

“No. No,” she said, her voice rising with hysteria.

“Yes. Listen to me. You can do this. We can do this.”

She closed her eyes.

Afraid she was giving up, he shouted, “Look at me.”

Her lids popped open.

“I’ll be right there. Hang on.”

“Kyle!”

“Lord, we really need You now,” he shouted as he made his way toward the opening that would lead him back to her. “Please. Please, let me get her out alive.”

He inhaled and then dived under the water, sending up a constant litany of prayer to God that he made it to Brenda in time.

* * *

Brenda clung to the edges of the window. Her teeth chattered. Her limbs grew numb. She was tired of treading water. Wasn’t even sure her feet were moving anymore. She couldn’t feel anything. Hypothermia would set in soon. Despair threatened to devour her as she waited for Kyle to return. How could he be so confident they’d get out of this alive?

Because he had God on his side.

She’d heard his shouted prayer. Even in the face of certain disaster he cried out to God.

Feeling an urgency that welled from deep within, she drew on all the Sunday-school lessons her parents had dragged her to as a child and lifted up the only prayer her frantic mind could muster.

“Oh, God, please help us,” she cried out, her voice barely more than a whisper. Hot tears welled and dripped into the lake water closing over her face.

She felt the tap on her shoulder. Relief mitigated with terror spread through her. Her fingers flexed around the edges of the window, unwilling to give up the connection to the surface. But she had to. She couldn’t let Kyle down by not trusting him now when it mattered the most. He was counting on her to follow him.

If she didn’t let go, she’d die.

She wasn’t ready to die. She wanted to live. Wanted to see where this relationship with Kyle could go. Wanted to tell him she was falling in love with him.

Determined to live, she inhaled deeply and filled her lungs to bursting and let go.

Kyle’s hand pulled her beneath the surface of the water into what was supposed to have been their watery grave. She nearly panicked as the air in her chest threatened to expel. Kyle guided her arms around his neck. She clung to him, her chest pressing against the solid strength of his back. She closed her eyes tight and fought the urge to breathe. She felt almost as if she was flying as Kyle’s powerful body cut through the water, pulling her along.

She banged her foot against the doorjamb of the main cabin, but her limbs were so cold, so numb, she’d barely registered any pain. Her eyes popped open to darkness. She could feel a scream building even though her sluggish brain told her they were in the stairwell that led to the deck. She held on to Kyle as he swam them up and up.

Her lungs burned. Her body felt heavy. Her mind screamed for oxygen.

She couldn’t hold out much longer.

Then they cleared the surface. The cool night air hit her face. She dragged in a gulping breath of lifesaving oxygen. Kyle held on to her and swam away from the boat, keeping her upright in the choppy waves as the lake overcame the boat and pulled the craft beneath the surface of the water.

They hadn’t gone down with the ship. But they were three miles offshore in freezing water with no life preservers. Their chances of survival were slim.

What could be worse?

Then she felt the drops of rain as the dark clouds she’d seen earlier on the horizon let loose.

Hysteria bubbled. A disbelieving laugh escaped. “Won—dder—fful,” she said between clattering teeth.

“That’s the spirit,” Kyle said, his white teeth flashing in the muted moonlight.

“How can you be grinning?” she snapped.

He spun her around and pointed toward the smattering of lights dotting the shore. “Three miles. No sweat.”

“Maybe for you,” she muttered. The only thing keeping her from sinking was his arm around her waist.

“I’ll be right here with you,” he said.

“I’m so cold,” she said, fearing her arms and legs wouldn’t work.

“You’ll warm up once you start moving.”

Dredging up what little strength remained in her body, she started to slowly move, kicking her legs and pulling her arms through the waves in a breaststroke style. Water splashed in her face. Got into her mouth, the taste setting off her gag reflex. She spit the nasty water out and pressed her lips tight. Kyle kept his hand on her hip as he sideswam next to her. She focused on the dots along the shore.

But it was rugged going and before long exhaustion slowed her movements. She struggled to continue. She was so tired. She wanted to sleep.

“Brenda!”

Kyle’s voice jolted her. She sputtered, dipping beneath the surface. Strong hands grasped her and lifted her head above the waterline. She felt her world turn on its axis as he flipped her onto her back. She stared upward at the dark sky overhead. Rain pelted her face. Arms slid beneath her armpits. Then she was gliding through the water. Her mind fought to understand what he was doing, how they were going to survive, but she was so cold. So tired. Her eyelids shut. The rush of water in her ears slowly faded into nothingness, and her last thought was that she’d lost Kyle before she’d even really had him.

ELEVEN

K
yle’s feet found purchase on the shore. He’d long since kicked off his shoes. His toes dug into the sand. Relief rivaling what he’d experienced after surviving Hell Week during BUD/S training at Coronado washed over him as he dragged Brenda out of the water.

During his training, he and his fellow recruits had been pushed to the limit of physical fortitude and mental determination. Two-thirds of the men who’d started the training had called it quits by ringing the bell. To this day, Kyle shuddered at the sound. He’d wanted to ring that bell so badly, but he’d been too stubborn, refusing to give up, to break, and had gutted it out.

His biceps strained from having been flexed for so long as he lifted Brenda’s unconscious body into his arms and started walking. His soaking-wet cargo pants added weight to his fatigued legs. The beach gave way to trees, the trees to a dark road. Up ahead the glow of a gas station beckoned.

No cars sat at the pumps. Kyle pushed open the door to the minimart. Little chimes sounded overhead. The guy behind the counter stared as Kyle trudged inside, water dripping off him and Brenda to puddle on the floor.

“Call 911.” Kyle barked out the command then slowly sank to his knees and gently eased Brenda onto the dry floor. Warmth from the store seeped into his muscles and bones, firing off his nerve endings with little jolts of electricity. His numb fingers tingled, burned. He checked her pulse. Glad to feel the steady beat, he sat back against the counter and held her close, his heart filling with a tenderness so strong he feared he might finally break.

He’d come close to losing her tonight. She’d become more to him than a client he was protecting. She’d become the woman who’d captured his heart. And he would never be the same.

How was he going to leave her when the time came?

* * *

Brenda awoke to find herself in a hospital bed. Monitors beeped. An IV dripped.

Where was Kyle?

Somehow, someway, he’d kept her safe and alive. She had to see him. Wanted to make sure he was okay, as well.

She tried to move. Pain exploded everywhere.

Staring at the generic white ceiling found in most hospital facilities, she tried to assess the damage to her body. Her fatigued muscles and sore limbs needed time to heal. Her head pounded. Her ankle throbbed.

The last thing she remembered was treading water in the cold lake after masked gunmen had sunk her father’s boat. And had meant for her to die, trapped inside a watery grave. Her stomach heaved with the horrible thought.

If not for Kyle, she’d be dead. He was an amazing man, honorable and brave. A man she was rapidly falling for.

A rumbly, out-of-place noise sent her heart pounding. She jerked toward the sound. Her neck muscles zinged and pain hammered against her temples at the movement.

But the sight of Kyle sitting in a chair, his chin resting on his chest, brought a sigh of relief. He was safe. A rush of affection flowed over her as she watched him.

He’d changed into a dry, dark long-sleeve shirt and jeans. She took a moment to watch him sleep as tender emotions flooded through her system. His dark eyelashes kissed his cheeks. His tousled hair gave him a boyish air. But she knew better.

He was a man of action. A man who’d risked his life for her, had protected her and somehow delivered her to safety when she’d given up any hope of surviving.

Thankful to be alive, her soul rejoiced. God had answered her prayers. A peace she’d never known wove through her. Though faith defied logic, she chose to believe in God.

She wasn’t sure exactly what to do with that belief, but she knew someone she could ask. Kyle.

“It’s rude to stare,” he murmured, his lips barely moving.

She blinked as heat traveled up her neck and stung her cheeks. Not asleep after all. Why was she surprised? The man was never what he seemed. He was so much more than she’d imagined. And she liked that. Liked him. “I thought maybe I was dreaming. We made it.”

“We did.”

“How did we get here?”

He opened one eye. “By ambulance.”

Not what she’d meant. “Did you tow me all the way to shore?”

Lifting his head, he stretched. “Yep.”

She’d come to realize he’d do anything to protect her. “How did you call for help?”

“There was a gas station a mile down the road.”

She wasn’t fooled by his nonchalant tone. “You carried me to the gas station?”

He shrugged. “You don’t weigh much.”

Affection wrapped around her. She held out her hand. “Thank you.”

He folded his hand over hers, the pressure warm and secure. “You’re welcome.”

His blue eyes held her enthralled. Her heart sped up. The feelings crowding her chest were sliding beyond affection into uncharted territory. She needed to study these emotions, dissect them before she made any rash conclusions or declarations. “Where are we?”

“Rush University Medical Center. They were closest.”

“Do I have hypothermia?”

“Yes. And a concussion. You were unconscious when they admitted you.”

She frowned. “How long have we been here?”

“Since early yesterday morning.”

Surprise rocked her. She’d been unconscious for at least twenty-four hours. “What time is it?”

“After nine. Good morning.” He grinned. “You were exhausted.”

Not nearly as much as she’d guess he was. “Have you slept?”

“I just was,” he said.

“A catnap at best,” she stated. “You rescue-swam with me from the middle of the lake. Carried me a mile. You can’t tell me you weren’t exhausted, too.”

“I won’t tell you that. It would be a lie. I was exhausted, though it wasn’t the middle of the lake. Three miles offshore max.” His smile turned tender. “I did sleep last night. And your concern is touching.”

His intense gaze made little butterflies dance inside her tummy. She tried to sit up. Every muscle protested. Kyle shot to his feet to offer his assistance.

Once upright, she asked, “Did they find the men who tried to kill us?”

Kyle ran a hand through his hair, creating even more havoc with his blond mane. “No. The police are in the process of dredging up your dad’s boat. But there won’t be anything to lead us to the man who wants you dead.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I am. Those men were professional mercenaries.”

“How can you be sure they weren’t just hired thugs off the street?”

“It was in their eyes and the way they held their weapons. Those were military-trained men. Mercs willing to hire out to the highest bidder. There’s no loyalty or honor involved. It’s just about the money.”

Clearly he had little tolerance for the type of man who would use his skills for illegal gain. Who could hate her so much that they’d pay to have her killed? What had she done to deserve this?

As if he’d read her thoughts, he said, “We’ll figure it out.”

How did he do that? He offered comfort and assurance without being prompted. He was so in tune to her. It left her feeling unbalanced, unsettled and...known. She couldn’t remember anyone ever making her feel so cared for, so special. And that scared and thrilled her at the same time, because she wanted more. Wanted to be more than the person he was protecting.

He smoothed back her hair. “Right now you need to concentrate on gaining back your strength. Are you hungry?”

For a kiss. No, not now. But soon, she hoped. “I could eat. Maybe some eggs, toast. Nothing too heavy.”

He hit the nurse’s call button. A few minutes later a tall, pretty red-haired woman arrived. She wore a multicolored smock over lightweight scrubs.

“I’m glad to see our patient has awoken. I’m Nurse Nancy,” she said with a wide smile. “I’ll let Dr. Reece know.”

“She’d like to order breakfast, as well,” Kyle said.

“I’ll take your breakfast order after I get the doctor,” the nurse said.

As soon as she disappeared out the door, Kyle asked, “Do you know Dr. Reece?”

“No. I’m not familiar with this facility.”

The door to the room opened and a short man of about fifty walked in. He had graying hair and kind eyes. “Dr. Storm, so glad to see you awake. I’m Dr. Reece.” He held out his hand. His handshake was firm. Her fingers stung. “I was on call yesterday when you were brought in. How are you feeling?”

“Stiff. A little headachy.”

He nodded. “You had a mild concussion and hypothermia.”

She vaguely remembered hitting her head. No wonder it hurt as if she’d taken a hit from a loose boom. She’d done that once when she’d first learned how to sail. She hadn’t been paying attention, too excited by the freedom of the water. The boom had worked itself loose and struck her alongside the head. The blow hadn’t been enough to knock her out, but enough to give her a horrible headache for a few days.

“The stiffness will wear off once you’re up and moving,” Dr. Reece continued. “I can give you meds to help with the headache. I’d caution not to overexert yourself for the next day or so. Drink plenty of fluids, and rest.”

All advice she’d given a hundred times before. It felt odd to be on this side of the bed. She wasn’t used to being taken care of.

“Thank you, Doctor,” she said, liking him and his bedside manner and realizing she needed to work on her own. “How soon can I be released?”

“I’ll put the order in now. Nancy tells me you have an appetite. By the time you’ve had breakfast you should be ready to go.”

“Actually, I’d just as soon eat elsewhere,” Brenda stated. She’d had her fill of eating from the hospital kitchen during her years as a med student, intern and resident.

“By all means,” Dr. Reece said with a smile. “I’ll get the ball rolling on your release.”

When he left, Kyle held up a department-store bag. “I had fresh clothes delivered from the store for you.”

“You think of everything. Thank you,” Brenda said, liking how thoughtful he was.

Kyle stood to leave to give her privacy. As soon as the door shut behind him, she opened the bag and pulled out the clothes. He’d thought of everything. The vibrant red blouse and stylish jeans were not something she would have picked for herself, but she’d already learned he liked bright and flashy.

Something she wasn’t.

Her chest tightened. He had wormed his way into her heart, her life. But no matter how she dressed, she’d never be the type of woman he’d want.

Disappointment seized her.

She’d be deluding herself if she tried to pretend she was, no matter how much she wished she could be. Okay, they enjoyed each other’s company. He was considerate and kind, had saved her life numerous times, but that didn’t mean he cared beyond what was required. Who was she kidding? She was a job to him.

She’d better tuck her feelings away and protect herself, or she’d end up brokenhearted. But she had a feeling keeping herself immune to him would be the hardest thing she’d ever had to face when he kept proving himself to be a good man, a man she wanted to love.

* * *

Kyle stood down the hall, talking to Detective Lebowitz. He angled himself so he could keep an eye on Brenda’s room. Not that she wasn’t fully protected with an armed police officer sitting outside the door, which Lebowitz had arranged so Kyle could get a few hours of rest.

The detective had stopped by to give an update on the progress of the case. He’d reinterviewed the family involved with the lawsuit against Brenda and the hospital and still came up empty.

Kyle wasn’t surprised. This threat on Brenda’s life seemed too personal to be an issue involving the hospital, too. This felt almost like a vendetta.

Brenda’s door opened and she stepped out. Beautiful! He’d known the red top would complement her with her dark hair and creamy complexion. And the jeans molded to her curves in all the right places. The trendy athletic shoes made her feet look small and dainty.

She hesitated in the doorway; her big brown eyes looked so vulnerable until her gaze locked on him like a guidance missile. Then her nerves seemed to settle. A soft smile touched her lips. A smile meant only for him. An explosion of emotion ripped through him, leaving him feeling as if he’d air-dropped a twenty-foot wave. Thrilling and terrifying at the same time.

A chirping sounded from his pocket. Using the interruption as an excuse to catch his breath, Kyle broke eye contact with Brenda to dig a new smartphone out of one of his pants pockets and checked the screen. “Our ride is here.”

Brenda looked at the phone with curiosity. “When did you get that?”

“Trent had it sent over.” He’d also assigned reinforcements who were waiting downstairs. Kyle had asked for the help. This assignment had turned out to be more complicated than any of them had expected. With a team in place, Brenda would be that much safer. And that was all that mattered.

“I need to replace my pager,” she said.

He stilled. “Pager?”

“It’s at the bottom of Lake Michigan.”

“You always carry one?”

“Yes, I’m rarely without it.”

“You had one with you on the yacht?”

She tilted her head. “I did.” Her eyes widened. “Do you think that’s how those men found us?”

“Pagers don’t transmit a signal, but only act as a receiver, so no, I wouldn’t say that is how they found us...unless someone placed a transmitter in the device.” Which seemed likely. Given someone had access to the hospital and her operating room, they could have easily snuck a transmitter into her pager at a time when she didn’t have it in her possession.

Lebowitz stepped forward. “Dr. Storm. I want to assure you we are doing everything in our power to find out who’s after you.”

Brenda inclined her head to the detective. “I’m sure you are, Detective. Thank you.”

“Can I get your new number?” Lebowitz asked Kyle.

Being extra cautious, Kyle said, “If you need to reach me, contact Trent Associates.”

Lebowitz’s lips thinned. “Very well. If you need anything, don’t hesitate. Chicago P.D. wants to be of service.”

They said goodbye to the detective and Dr. Reece. When they exited the hospital, Kyle stopped short.

A bright yellow monster of an SUV sat idling at the curb.

Leave it to Trevor to pick the most conspicuous vehicle he could find.

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