Trapped (Private Justice Book #2): A Novel (33 page)

The two men moved away. And as Dev jogged toward his Explorer to follow the ambulances, he gave thanks.

For faithful friends and answered prayers.

Voices were talking. Deep, male voices.

One of them was Dev’s.

Laura tried to pry her eyelids open.

They refused to budge.

How could she possibly have let herself fall asleep before she had word on Darcy’s condition? They must have given her some drugs. Morphine, maybe, because she wasn’t hurting very much anymore.

No. Wait. They’d said something about repairing a vein in her leg. They must have put her out to do that.

But she didn’t intend to stay out. Not until she had some answers about Darcy.

She tried again to lift her eyelids. This time they raised halfway.

A strong, warm hand enfolded hers. Dev’s.

Bliss.

“Laura?”

Exerting a supreme effort, she managed to open her eyes.

Her favorite PI was inches away. His face was cleaner than the last time she’d seen it, but a stray streak of soot bisected the fine lines of fatigue at the corner of one eye.

“You stayed.”

“I said I would.”

Yeah, he had. And as she’d learned over the past tumultuous days, James Devlin was a man you could count on.

“Can you find out about Darcy for me?”

“Your timing’s perfect.” He eased aside to reveal the white-coated man behind him. “The doctor just came in.”

The physician circled around to the other side of the gurney. “Do you want me to start with your condition, or your sister’s?”

“My sister’s.”

He folded his arms. “Aside from multiple contusions, dehydration, and signs of malnourishment—including an electrolyte imbalance—her biggest issue is an abdominal wound. The knife did penetrate the peritoneal cavity, so we’ll be watching for peritonitis and treating with antibiotics as a precautionary measure. She also has a small laceration in her liver, which produced internal bleeding.”

Laura drew an unsteady breath. “I was afraid of that. I knew she was going into shock.”

“The rest of the news is better, though. On a scale of one to six, with six being the most severe, her liver injury is a two. Also, by the time we did a CT scan, the bleeding had stopped, so no surgery should be required. We’ll be monitoring her with regular blood tests to confirm that, and we’ll keep her on bed rest for a couple of days, but she should be fine. The liver has amazing regenerative properties.”

The knot in Laura’s stomach began to loosen. “Thank God!”

“Not a bad idea. You were both very lucky. Which brings me to your condition. Your nose isn’t broken, but you have quite a shiner—as well as a concussion. The stab wounds on your arms are straightforward. No nerves, blood vessels, or tendons were injured, so we just cleaned and bandaged them. You were also fortunate with the wound on your shoulder. It was far enough to the outside that there was no damage to the rotator tendons or
brachial plexus, which control the arm. We were able to repair it with a few stitches. And neither you nor your sister suffered any serious effects from the fire. No burns, no major smoke inhalation.”

“What about her leg?”

At Dev’s impatient query, the doctor raised an eyebrow. “I’m getting to that.” He turned back to her. “Any questions so far?”

She shook her head and squeezed Dev’s hand. The doctor might not like his demanding tone, but his proprietary concern warmed her heart.

“You weren’t as lucky with the leg. A major vein was nicked, and we had to have one of our vascular surgeons go in and do some fine suturing. On the plus side, you should make a full recovery, and we didn’t need to transfuse you or your sister.”

“When can I see her?”

“We’re about to admit you both, and you’ll be sharing a room. Someone will be in to take you up in a few minutes. If you need anything in the meantime, press the call button.”

As the doctor exited, Laura let out a long, slow breath and looked at the man who had saved her life. “I don’t even know how to begin to say thank you.”

One side of his mouth hitched up as he stroked his thumb over the back of her hand, but his attempt at a smile didn’t alleviate the lines of strain and fatigue around his mouth and eyes. “Have dinner with me when you’re on your feet.”

“That hardly seems an adequate thank-you.”

“Consider it the first installment. Because if you’re willing, I’d like to see a whole lot more of you now that you’re no longer my client.”

She wove her fingers through his, those promise-filled words better than any painkiller the hospital could have given her. “Ready, willing, and almost able.”

“It’s a date, then. We’ve got a gig in Costa Rica for a few days, but once I get back, clear your social calendar. We’re going to . . .” A yawn caught him unawares, and he lifted a hand to stifle it. “Sorry about that.”

“What time is it?”

He twisted his wrist. “Six-thirty.”

The man had to be dead on his feet. “Go home. Get some rest.”

A nurse pushed through the door, followed by an aide. “You’re set to go upstairs. You’ll meet up with your sister in the elevator.”

As they prepared to roll her out, Dev maintained his grip on her hand. The temptation to let him stay was strong—but selfish. He needed to crash.

She tried to tug her hand free, but he didn’t release it. “Please, Dev. I’ll feel better if I know you’re getting some sleep. You can come back and see me later.”

The aide began wheeling her out. Dev followed along, still holding her hand. “I’ll just go with you as far as the elevator.”

She didn’t argue.

As they trundled down the hall, another gurney came into sight, and she caught a glimpse of Darcy. Their gazes met when the aide maneuvered her next to her sister inside the elevator, and tears welled in Laura’s eyes. Darcy’s hand snaked out between the safety rails, and Laura grabbed it, holding fast.

“You’re going to be fine.” Laura’s voice wavered, then strengthened. “We’re both going to be fine.”

A tear trailed down Darcy’s cheek, but she smiled back. “Yes, we are.” Angling her head, she looked at the tall man who was holding Laura’s other hand, her expression curious.

“Are you going up with us?” The aide directed the query to Dev, her finger hovering over a button on the control panel.

“No.” Laura didn’t give him a chance to answer. “But he’s coming back later.”

Dev slowly released her fingers. “Count on it.”

Instead of exiting at once, however, he bent, brushed her hair back from her face with a whisper-soft touch, and pressed his lips to her forehead.

Her eyes drifted closed.

Mmm.

That was one way to boost a girl’s blood pressure.

He lifted his head a few inches, and his next, whispered words were only for her. “Get used to that.”

Then, with a wink and a grin, he straightened up and exited, watching her from the hall until the door closed.

“Who is that, Laura?”

She turned her head toward Darcy. “James Devlin. He’s the PI I hired to find you—and one of the guys who saved our lives.”

“Do you two know each other . . . well?”

“Not well enough. But he’d like to change that.”

“I say go for it. He’s pretty hot, even if he is kind of old.”

One of the aides closer to Laura’s age snickered, and her own lips twitched as she squeezed her sister’s fingers. “You’re my top priority for now, but once we’re both back on our feet, I think that’s very sound advice.”

The door opened, and as the aide wheeled her past the window in the elevator lobby, she caught a glimpse of the rising sun as it gilded the edges of the clouds and tinted the sky a lustrous pink.

A smile touched her lips. How apt.

For the night was over, and this was a new day—shining bright and filled with promise.

F
IVE
M
ONTHS
L
ATER

Dev stepped onto Laura’s front porch and reached for the bell—only to have Darcy fling open the door before his finger made contact with the button.

“Hi, Dev.”

He retracted his hand and smiled at the teen. In the five months since her traumatic runaway experience, she’d blossomed. The fear lurking in the depths of her eyes receded with each passing day, she’d made a slew of friends at school, and her hair was blonde again . . . except for a brand-new neon purple streak on one side.

“Hi, yourself.”

“Hey, Dev.” Nikki’s brother followed her out.

He had to give the kid credit. Despite Laura’s resistance to the notion of Darcy going on single dates, Danny had hung in there for the past five months. Today was the reward, even if their first date was Phoenix’s annual Fourth of July BBQ at Cal’s house—a crowd scene, where they’d have zero privacy. But they were going and coming together, and Darcy seemed content with that.

In fact, she seemed content in general these days, thanks in large part to the love Laura had lavished on her . . . which was returned in full measure, as far as he could tell.

“Hi, Danny. See you guys at Cal’s, right?”

“Right.” Danny claimed his date’s hand. “But we’re going to swing by the Webster carnival first. Laura and Nikki both know.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He waited until they reached the end of the walk, then stuck his head in the open door. “Laura?”

“In the kitchen. Come on back.”

He strolled through the living room that had become his second home over the past few months. He’d lost count of the number of nights he and Laura—and sometimes Darcy—had watched movies here or played Scrabble or worked on plans for the teen outreach church project the two of them had agreed to chair at their pastor’s request. It was getting harder and harder to return to his cold, sterile apartment.

But if all went well, maybe he wouldn’t have to for much longer.

Fingering the small box in the pocket of his jeans, he tried to rein in the sudden uptick in his pulse as he approached the kitchen.

“Hi.” Laura glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled as she finished covering a large plate of brownies with plastic wrap. “You must have run into Darcy and Danny at the front door. Either that or you picked the lock.”

“No lock picking on my agenda today.” He moved beside her and propped a hip against the counter, taking a leisurely sweep of the red toenails peeking through her sandals, her white Capri slacks, and a red knit top that showed off her curves to perfection. Nice. “What’s with the purple streak in Darcy’s hair?”

Laura rinsed her hands in the sink, pulled a towel off the rack, and scrunched up her face. “I don’t like it, but one thing I’ve learned over the past few months is to be more flexible and pick my battles.”

“Your strategy appears to be working. Darcy seems happier every time I see her.”

“I give the counseling sessions most of the credit for that. And getting involved with the youth group at church has made a huge difference in her outlook too. Of course, a boyfriend doesn’t hurt, either. Danny’s a good kid.”

He took her hand and tugged her close, looping his arms around her waist. “Yeah, he is. And speaking of boyfriends—is that part of the reason you seem so happy too?”

A faint flush rose on her cheeks, and an endearing dimple appeared in her cheek. “Doesn’t hurt.”

A rush of gratitude tightened his throat as he looked down at her. He’d been there when she’d given the police her statement, and he’d read Darcy’s. Despite Laura’s heroic plan to save them, both had come close to dying.

Too close.

But that was over. She was safe in his arms. And if this day turned out the way he hoped, she’d be close at hand for the rest of his life.

He brushed back a stray strand of hair that had escaped her French braid, letting his fingers linger on her cheek. “You look especially beautiful today.”

If she noticed the sudden huskiness in his voice, she didn’t comment. Instead, she fingered the collar of his golf shirt. “You’re not too bad yourself. Though I have to say I prefer the green version that matches your eyes. But blue is in keeping with the holiday.”

“I could go home and change.”

“That would make us later than we already are. We need to get moving.”

She started to tug free, but when he held fast, she sent him a quizzical look.

“I don’t think they’ll mind if we’re a few minutes late. Connor can take the first shift guarding the grill so Cal doesn’t char the burgers. I want to get a head start on the fireworks.”

Chuckling, she slipped her arms back around his neck, tipped her chin up, and closed her eyes. “No objections.”

The temptation to give her the kiss she expected was strong—but first things first.

“I had something else in mind.”

She opened her eyes, her expression puzzled. “Such as?”

Keeping one arm around her, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew the small velvet box.

Her eyes widened and her mouth formed an
O
. “Is that . . . what I think it is?”

“Since our thinking is usually in sync, I’d venture to say it is.” He flipped open the lid to reveal a solitaire flanked by smaller stones on a gold band. As he angled it in the sunlight, the facets glittered and twinkled and sparkled. “See? Fireworks. The kind I hope will last a lot longer than the ones we’ll see tonight.”

She lifted her gaze, and the love shining in her eyes chased away the flutter of nerves in the pit of his stomach. “Yes.” She held up her left hand.

He gave her a slow blink. “I didn’t ask you yet.”

“Sorry. I guess I got carried away.” She exhaled. “Go ahead.”

He let a beat of silence pass. “It seems kind of anticlimactic now.”

She withdrew her hand. “Do you want me to retract my answer?”

“No!” He tugged the ring from the box and grabbed her hand. “But I’m going to give you part of my speech, anyway. Although I guess it’s safe to skip the if-this-is-too-soon-I’ll-try-again-later part.”

“Definitely a safe deletion.” She traced a finger along the line of his jaw.

He grabbed her hand. “Stop that or I’ll never get through this.”

“Okay.” Eyes twinkling, she gave him a demure look. “I’ll be good.”

A grin tugged at his lips. “I have no doubt of that.”

Giggling, she played with a button on his shirt. “Now who’s straying off subject?”

He tucked her straying hand in his. “You know . . . this isn’t quite how I imagined this moment.”

“Do you want to get down on one knee?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I kind of like the present arrangement.” She snuggled closer.

“Can we be serious for a minute?”

“I’ll try, but my heart’s already singing the Hallelujah Chorus.”

“Then I’ll keep this short.” Shifting gears, he launched into the condensed version of his prepared speech. “You know my history. You know I wasn’t in a hurry to rush into romance, and you know why. It seemed safer—and wiser—to walk a wide circle around commitments . . . until I met you.”

He took a deep breath and linked his fingers with hers. “The truth is, as I fell in love with you, I began to realize God had given me a priceless gift the day you came into my life. Because you helped me see that loving is worth every risk. And now I can’t imagine anything closer to heaven on earth than falling asleep in your arms every night and waking up beside you every day for the rest of my life.”

There was a sheen in her eyes as he finished, and when she spoke, a tremor ran through her words. “That was beautiful, Dev.” Then a radiant smile lit up her face. “Now?”

“Now.”

“Yes!”

He slipped the ring on her finger without further ceremony and moved on to a different kind of fireworks.

When they at last drew apart, Laura sighed and rested her forehead against his chin. “I guess we have to go to the BBQ.”

“Yeah. I’ve got the sodas and you’ve got the brownies. Besides, we have some exciting news to share.”

“I don’t know that I’d call it news.”

He frowned and pulled back a few inches. “What do you mean?”

“I think Nikki suspects.”

“Why?”

“You know that day I stopped in your office last week on my lunch hour? When I asked her where you were, she said you were on a personal errand—and she had this smug expression I’ve never seen before.”

He grimaced. “I see it almost every day. I think she has some kind of funky ESP.”

“Maybe . . . but Darcy’s on to us too. She’s been humming the wedding march lately.”

Dev huffed out a breath. “Is anyone going to be surprised?”

“Not Moira. Last time I saw her, she asked if I was shopping for a dress yet. I’m sure she’s shared her suspicions with Cal.”

“That only leaves Connor.”

“Don’t count on it. We haven’t exactly been hiding our interest in each other.”

“What about you?” Dev played with her braid. “Were you surprised?”

“By the timing. I was beginning to think you were going to wait until Christmas.” She tugged his head down toward hers, until their noses were inches apart and the blue of her eyes filled his field of vision like a bright summer sky. When she spoke again, her voice was soft—and serious. “But I’ll tell you this, James Devlin. I’d have waited for you until this Christmas, or next Christmas, or the Christmas after that. However long it took. Because you’re a man worth waiting for. And I love you with all my heart.”

The joyous strains of the Hallelujah Chorus began to resound in his own heart—the full symphony version. “Not more than I love you.”

She smiled up at him. “Prove it.”

And so he did.