Deadly Contact (11 page)

“I’m fine,” he assured her. Although he hadn’t looked yet, the injury felt like a flesh wound. He shifted slightly, the fabric of his shirt sticking to his side. No fresh bleeding, then, which was a good sign. The bullet had likely passed through her shoulder and grazed him, making them both damn lucky to be alive.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, a tear leaking from the corner of her eye. “I should have—”

“Hush,” he told her, wiping the drop away with the pad of his thumb. “Just rest now.” Time enough to yell at her later. For now, he needed to get her to a hospital, make sure she really was going to be okay. Once he knew she was safe and whole, then he’d talk to her about following directions.

The muted wail of sirens sounded, a beautiful symphony that grew louder by the second. The cavalry was here.

* * *

The ambulance ride to Shady Grove Hospital seemed to take forever. Kelly lay on the gurney, trying not to moan at every bump in the road. It felt as if the driver was going out of his way to hit every pothole, but maybe it was just the speed that made the ride feel so rough.

James sat next to the paramedic, having refused to ride in the second ambulance. “We stay together,” he’d said, his tone and expression brooking no argument. He had deigned to allow the paramedics to check his wound, and he sat now with his shirt open, his hand pressed to the white strip of gauze taped along his side.

She didn’t know how he could just
sit
there, so stoic and reserved. Her shoulder was screaming and his side had to be, too, but he gave no outward indication of feeling any discomfort. He winced slightly when the driver hit an especially rough patch of road, but otherwise he could have been made of marble.

After what seemed like an eternity, the ambulance pulled into the emergency bay. A moment later the doors at the end opened, bringing fresh air tinged with diesel fumes into the back. Kelly gritted her teeth as the paramedics jostled the gurney out and onto the pavement. She knew they were trying to be careful, but her pain was overwhelming. Her whole consciousness was focused on her shoulder and the throbbing that kept time with her heart.

They wheeled her into the emergency room, James trotting alongside. He looked like an avenging angel, with his hair mussed and his hands bloody. There was a streak of red down the side of his face where he’d wiped his hand in a moment of distraction, and his eyes were bright and focused. He had the look of a man who would mow down anyone or anything that got in his way, and she saw several orderlies and nurses jump back as they rolled her down the hall and into an exam room.

A triage nurse approached and began her examination with brisk, efficient movements. She asked a few questions, but Kelly only heard about half of them. Her tongue was thick in her mouth, and she wanted nothing more than to close her eyes against the bright overhead lights.

She was cold, so cold, and she reached down, fumbling for a blanket that wasn’t there. James pulled the sheet over her legs, telling her to lie back and relax.

She felt a sharp sting in her hand and looked over to find a nurse taping down a needle. She saw a few drops of blood on her skin, and then she was back in the tunnel, her vision narrowing down to a pinprick of light before finally going dark.

* * *

When she came around again, a young woman in a white coat was standing over her.

“Welcome back,” the woman said. “You gave us a bit of a scare there.”

“Sorry,” Kelly replied automatically.

The doctor laughed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m Dr. Mahoney, and I’ll be stitching you up today.”

“No more blood,” Kelly mumbled.

A blond eyebrow went up. “Oh, you’re one of those, are you? Good to know.” She moved around the bed to a cabinet, took out a blue cloth and returned to the head of the bed.

“I’m going to clean this out and stitch you up. The bullet didn’t hit anything important, which makes you very lucky.”

Kelly grunted in response. With her shoulder on fire and every breath painful, she didn’t feel too lucky at the moment.

“I’m going to need you to lie on your side so I can access both sides of your injury.”

Kelly sucked in a breath and moved as instructed, stretching out her arm to pillow her head. The position was very much like the one she assumed while sleeping, but there was little chance of her dozing off while being stitched up.

“You’re going to feel a little prick....” Kelly winced at the sting in her shoulder as the doctor injected something to numb the area. After a few more pokes, the pain began to ease, and Kelly exhaled in relief.

“Lidocaine’s a wonderful drug, isn’t it?” the doctor said.

Kelly could only nod in response, her limbs relaxing as the pain left. She sank more fully into the bed, not realizing until that instant how rigid her whole body had been.

The woman ripped open a package, took out a wandlike instrument with a sponge on the end and squeezed. There was a quiet cracking sound, and the sponge turned a dark orange. “Any shellfish allergies?”

“No.”

“Great.” Dr. Mahoney set about wiping Kelly’s shoulder, moving in an ever-expanding circle. She reached the margins of the numbed area and continued outward; the liquid was cool on Kelly’s skin.

“Do you want your, um, friend to stay?”

Kelly stiffened, unaware that anyone else was in the room. She tried to sit up, but Dr. Mahoney put a hand on her side. “Stay down, please. I don’t want to have to resterilize the area.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” There was a screech of wood on tile as James dragged his chair across the floor, then pulled it around to the other side of the bed. He sat down and glared at Kelly, as if daring her to ask him to leave.

She glared right back, not appreciating his attitude. Why was he here? He had his own injuries to deal with. And why was he so angry? It wasn’t as if she had known there was an intruder in her apartment.

He probably thinks I set this whole thing up!
She felt her face heat at the thought and bit her lip to keep from crying out in frustration. Was that his problem? He had said he didn’t trust her, but surely he knew she’d never do something like this.

She closed her eyes against the prickle of impending tears. How had they gotten to this point? She’d gone from being his friend to his lover to a suspect in his investigation. Quite an evolution, and one she wasn’t sure she could reverse.

Dr. Mahoney’s voice brought her out of her thoughts. “You can’t stay if she doesn’t want you here.”

There was a moment of tension as James and the doctor faced off, gazes locked in silent battle. James might be the big, bad FBI agent, but the young doctor appeared to have a spine of steel and she wasn’t about to back down.

“It’s fine,” Kelly said, wanting to defuse the situation. James looked as if he was close to his breaking point, and the last thing any of them needed was for him to get into an argument with the doctor. Besides, if she made him leave, he’d probably think she was trying to hide something.

“Are you sure?” the doctor said in a low voice.

Kelly nodded. “Yes. He can stay.” James nodded once and leaned back in the chair, apparently satisfied with the outcome.

“Thank you for asking,” she murmured.

Dr. Mahoney winked at her, then draped the blue cloth around her shoulder. A flap covered the side of her face, effectively blocking Kelly’s view of the proceedings. Probably for the best.

She heard the metallic tinkle of instruments as the doctor went to work on her shoulder. “Want to tell me what happened here?” Dr. Mahoney asked, a tugging sensation accompanying her words.

Kelly’s stomach fluttered a bit in warning. She squeezed her eyes shut, swallowing hard.

“There was a gun,” she gritted out, focusing on the memory of the shooting as a distraction from the sounds accompanying the doctor’s movements. “He fired as we walked in.”

“I see.” More tugging, then pressure. “You’re lucky his aim wasn’t better. A few inches to the left, and he’d have hit your heart.”

“James got shot, too.”

“Is that right?”

Kelly opened her eyes to see James frown at her, as if he was annoyed she’d brought it up. “It’s just a scratch,” he said gruffly.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

He harrumphed in response but didn’t press the issue.

There was a brief period of silence as the doctor worked; then she spoke again. “All right,” she said as she set down her tools. There was the rip of a package and the smell of rubbing alcohol, and Kelly felt a pressure on her shoulder as the woman rubbed the Betadine stain from her skin.

“I’m just going to tape this up, and you’ll be good to go.”

She worked quickly, applying bandages and taping them into place. She whisked away the drapes and helped Kelly sit back up, then tugged off her gloves.

“Is it safe for me to look?”

“Yep. I’m all done.”

Kelly turned to see a neat white square on her shoulder. She studied it for a moment, fascinated by how such a small thing had caused so much pain. She reached around to find a matching bandage on her back. Two holes. She felt like Swiss cheese.

“You’re all set,” the doctor said, laying the chart on the bed as she spoke. “That lidocaine is going to wear off soon, so I’ll have a nurse bring you some more Dilaudid, and I gave you a shot of antibiotics to prevent infection. Do you have any questions for me?”

Kelly shook her head, her thoughts still too scattered to focus on forming an intelligent question. “Not right now. Thanks for taking care of me.”

Dr. Mahoney smiled, making her look even younger. Kelly idly wondered just how old the good doctor was, but decided it would be too rude to ask. “You’re welcome. See your primary-care physician to get those stitches out next week, okay?”

“I will.”

“Good.” The woman turned to face James, who was still scowling in the corner. “Now let’s have a look at you.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, making no move to leave the chair.

“You have a gunshot wound,” the doctor replied. “The law requires me to examine you.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up in what might have been a smile under different circumstances. “Doctor, I work for the FBI. Before that, I was a D.C. cop. While the law requires you to report a gunshot wound, it does not require you to examine said wound without the consent of the patient.”

Dr. Mahoney shrugged. “It was worth a shot, no pun intended. Are you sure you don’t want me to look at it?”

He nodded.

“Suit yourself.” The doctor turned to leave.

“James.” Kelly said his name softly, knowing that if she pushed him, he’d push right back. “Please?”

He held her gaze for a long moment, emotions that she couldn’t identify flashing through his eyes. Finally, he sighed.

“All right.”

He stood with a wince, slowly unbuttoned his shirt and tugged it off with careful, deliberate movements. He kept his eyes locked on her face the entire time. Determined not to look away, she maintained eye contact with him, a task that grew increasingly difficult as the shirt dropped to reveal a wide expanse of golden skin and the dark curls that dusted his chest.

She’d seen that chest before, been intimately acquainted with those shoulders and arms, the flat belly that tapered to slim hips. She’d used her tongue to trace the line of hair from his belly button to his...

She swallowed hard, trying to keep her face impassive as they played this silent game of chicken.

If he was affected by her subtle perusal, he didn’t show it. He merely raised a brow, silently asking if she liked what she saw. She almost nodded, but she stopped herself just in time. Yes, he was gorgeous. Yes, she was still attracted to him. Yes, she’d love to jump him right here, right now, Dr. Mahoney be damned. But she refused to admit her appreciation for his body when he had made it clear he didn’t trust her.

Dr. Mahoney stepped closer, reaching out to grab a corner of the tape holding his bandage in place. She glanced up. “It’ll hurt less if I just rip it off.”

He nodded. The tape came free with a few firm tugs to reveal an angry red gash tracking along the side of his rib cage. Kelly sucked in a breath at the sight, wondering how he was still standing. Her injury was in a much smaller area, and before the pain meds, she’d barely kept it together.

Dr. Mahoney probed along the margins with her gloved fingers, eliciting a wince from her patient. “Looks pretty clean,” she muttered as she examined him. “Still bleeding, though.” She was right—even now a few drops of blood welled up and began a downward trek across his skin.

Satisfied, the doctor pressed a fresh square of gauze to his side. “Hold this for me.”

James obliged, and Dr. Mahoney straightened. “You need stitches,” she pronounced, removing her gloves with a snap. “I’m going to grab another suture kit. Be right back.”

She left before James could respond; the soft squeak of her shoes on the floor faded as she walked out.

The silence in the room was a thick blanket pressing down on them. Kelly fiddled with the edge of the bed sheet, folding it over and over again to form an even pleat as she cast about for something to say that would ease the tension between them.

“I should move.” She pushed herself up with her uninjured arm, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “The doctor will probably want you to lie down so she can stitch you up.”

“You’re fine.” James held out a hand to stop her, but he was careful not to touch her. “Just stay there. I can sit on the end of the bed.” He made no move to approach the bed, a fact that wasn’t lost on Kelly.

“Look,” she said, unable to keep the bite of temper out of her voice. “I don’t know what’s got you all twisted up, but I’m a little tired of being treated like some kind of pariah.”

James merely raised a brow, and his cool aloofness added fuel to the fire of her anger. “Who’s treating you like a pariah?”

“You are,” she bit out, her jaw clenched so tightly it was a wonder her teeth didn’t crack.
Damn this man!
“It’s not my fault we’re here.” She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring the twinge of protest from her shoulder.