Fatal Exposure (18 page)

But she had to stop Hoffman first. She had to get him away from this bedroom before he finished Parker off.

Banking that Hoffman would try to stop her, she bolted through the doorway into the next room, skidding on the wooden floor. His footsteps pounded behind her. His gun barked out, and she flinched, but the shot went wild.

She whirled around and fired back. Her aim was off, but it made him dive into the kitchen, giving her time to scramble behind the couch.
Dumb,
she realized, gasping for breath. A bullet would go straight through the sofa. She had to get to the door.

“Stop,” her stepfather called out. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

Hysteria burbled inside her. He’d kidnapped her at gunpoint. He’d knocked her out, slamming his fist into her face when she’d tried to escape. He’d just shot Parker and was trying to murder her. “You expect me to believe that?”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he said. “I loved you.”

Love?
She shuddered, totally repulsed. “Torture isn’t love.”

“You liked my games. You know you did. You begged me to play with you.”

Her face turned hot. Her vision hazed. Fury scorched through her veins, nearly incinerating what remained of her self-restraint. But this wasn’t the time to lose control, not when Parker needed her help. Struggling to harness her temper, she gauged the distance to the door, but she knew she’d never get that far.

“I did everything for you,” he continued. “You were my little angel, the one I loved. But then you ruined everything.” Rage hardened his voice. “You told lies. You ran away. I loved you, and you lied about me.”

Revolted, she thinned her lips. This man had raped her. He’d robbed her of her innocence in the most despicable of ways. But she couldn’t let him distract her. Parker was dying in the other room. She had to lure Hoffman away from Parker and summon aid.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Hoffman said. “But you ruined everything. You didn’t give me a choice. I had to get Parker to bring you in.”

His voice was getting nearer. He was crawling across the room. Panic morphed into a frenzy inside her. She had to get out now!

Summoning her courage, she lifted her head. She spotted him creeping toward the sofa and fired. He wheeled back, clutching his arm, and howled. Her palms so slick she could hardly grip the gun, she squeezed off another round.

She missed.

Knowing he’d recover at any second, she leaped toward the cabin’s door. She flung it open and lunged outside but missed the step and fell. Landing on her injured shoulder she let out a strangled cry. Then she stumbled upright in a surge of adrenaline and whirled around.

Hoffman slumped against the door frame. Trembling wildly, she raised her weapon and squeezed the trigger—but there was an empty click. She’d run out of ammunition.

And she didn’t have any more rounds.

Hoffman smiled, a maniacal look filling his eyes. He lifted his gun and took aim. She turned and fled just as the shot went rocketing past. She tripped over a tree root and sprawled facedown again.

Oh, God.
He was going to catch her. He lurched down the porch steps. Frantic, she jumped up and raced into the woods, running for her life—just like Erin Walker had.

And just like Erin, Brynn needed to reach the lookout tower. The cops would be waiting there. If she could just hold on long enough to find them, she could alert them to the danger and make sure Parker survived.

Trees rose up in her path, and she swerved around them. Low-hanging branches tore at her face and hair. She plunged through stands of brush, stumbling over logs and rocks, trying desperately to escape. But which way was the lookout tower? Without any light to guide her, she was running blind.

Then suddenly something darted into her path. Unable to turn in time, she collided with it headlong.
A child.
Thrown off balance, Brynn fell into a pile of brush, her head smacking against a rock. Pain scorched through her scalp, and she cried out.

The child flailed and kicked beneath her, finally breaking free. They both scrambled to their feet, and Brynn recognized the missing girl.

A crashing noise rose behind them. Hoffman was only steps away.

“I’m a friend. I’ll help you. Follow me!” Brynn urged and took off running again. The girl sprinted behind her, keeping up despite her smaller size. Seconds later, Brynn reached the creek and plowed across, the frigid water icing her feet. She slipped on a rock and nearly fell, then clawed her way up the opposite bank, pure panic driving her on.

“Help!” the girl called out.

Brynn stopped and whirled around, her breath sawing loudly in the air. Moonlight seeped through the trees, enabling her to see. The child was on her hands and knees in the rushing stream, struggling to rise. Hoffman burst through the trees and stopped.

He raised his gun, aiming at the fallen girl, and Brynn gaped at him in shock. He wasn’t human. Even a gunshot wound hadn’t brought him down. But she’d die before she let him harm that child.

Her fury exploding, she picked up a rock and hurled it with all her might, ignoring the sharp pain searing her arm. The rock glanced off his shoulder, not hard enough to stop him, but enough to make him jerk back. The bullet thudded into a tree.

The girl made it to her feet. She stumbled out of the creek and ran toward Brynn just as Hoffman took aim again. Brynn shoved the girl behind her, but she knew that she’d reached the end. She couldn’t escape death this time.

His weapon jammed.

A stunned look crossed his face. He looked down in disbelief, then let loose with a torrent of obscenities as he fumbled to clear the jam. The magazine dropped out, spilling rounds on the forest floor. Brynn spun on her heels, nearly weeping with relief, and ran.

Careful to keep the child with her, she angled through the woods toward the lookout tower, desperate to reach the police. She shoved through a patch of brambles, nearly collided with a boulder and tripped over logs and vines.

Her lungs burned. She could hardly wheeze in a fiery breath. Then she staggered into the clearing by the lookout tower, the absolute mayhem catching her off guard. Red-and-blue lights flashed in the darkness. Emergency vehicles and squad cars surrounded the tower. Cops swarmed the area in bulletproof vests and SWAT gear, shouting orders. Their radios squawked and blared.

“Help!” she cried, stumbling to a halt. She pulled the girl close to protect her and whipped around. “He’s coming! He’s got a gun!” Several officers rushed to their side.

Then Hoffman burst through the trees.

“Watch out!” she screamed, and the officers drew their guns.

But Hoffman was no longer armed. He raised his hands, causing the cops to hold their fire. He swayed for a moment, the colored lights illuminating his face, then sank to the ground. Dozens of officers raced over, shouting for medical help.

Brynn’s knees wobbled, threatening to collapse. “Are you all right, ma’am?” an officer asked her.

“I’m fine, but—”

“This woman’s bleeding!” the man shouted over the noise. “We need an EMT here!”

“No, I’m fine. But Parker...” The memory of his betrayal sliced through her, but she shoved it aside. “He’s at the cabin. That way.” She motioned toward the woods. “You have to hurry. He’s been shot!”

“We’ll find him.”

More radios crackled. Sirens rose in the night. Several officers took off running through the woods while others piled into cars. As Brynn watched in a daze, medical personnel loaded Hoffman onto a gurney, and started wheeling him her way.

But a woman in a uniform stepped into their path, causing them to stop. She was tall, middle-aged, so thin she was almost gaunt. Lieutenant Lewis, Brynn guessed, judging by the authority in her stance. The woman Parker had called for help.

“Colonel Hoffman,” she said, her voice sharp. “You’re under arrest.”

Hoffman raised his head from the gurney. His eyes met the lieutenant’s and filled with fear. He let out an anguished moan.

So he realized he wasn’t going to escape. It was about time he suffered for his crimes.

“Where are you taking him?” Lieutenant Lewis asked an EMT.

“Meritus Hospital in Washington County. They’ll probably fly him to Shock Trauma in Baltimore from there.”

“Fine.” She turned to another cop. “Read him his rights on the way.”

She turned her attention to Brynn, who was still hugging the terrified girl. “Are you all right?”

Brynn managed a nod, but the pain pulsing through her shoulder halted her breath. “Parker—”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get him.” Lieutenant Lewis signaled to the EMT. “Take these two to the hospital.” Pulling out her radio, she strode away.

Several officers surrounded the gurney, along with the ambulance personnel. Hoffman rolled his head as they pushed him past, and, without warning, his eyes met hers. And for a moment, time ground to a halt. She stared into the eyes of the man who’d abused her, a hollowed-out feeling inside. This man had terrorized her for decades. He’d stolen her innocence, done despicable, evil things to her that no child should have to endure. He’d forced her into a life on the run, a precarious existence of desperation, violence and fear—all because of his perverted needs.

Defeated, he looked away. The men closed around him, then loaded him into the waiting ambulance. Brynn eased out her breath as they put on the siren and drove away.

His reign of terror had come to an end.

And she was finally free.

Chapter 16

E
xhausted, Brynn slumped in a padded armchair inside Parker’s room at the Shock Trauma Center in Baltimore the following afternoon. She could hardly keep her eyes open after the grueling night she’d had. After her rescue, she’d spent hours giving statements to both the Washington County and Baltimore police, relating her story about Hoffman and his history of abuse. She’d also relayed Parker’s suspicions about Delgado, who seemed to have disappeared. Thankfully, the police had believed her. Lieutenant Lewis had agreed to bring Delgado in for questioning, assuming they could find him first.

Brynn stifled a yawn, the movement causing her injured shoulder to throb inside its sling. She’d escaped their ordeal without major injuries. Aside from gashing her scalp, she’d partially torn the tendons and inflamed the bursa around her rotator cuff—thus the sling. After a few weeks of painkillers, anti-inflammatory medication and rest, her shoulder would heal just fine.

Too bad she couldn’t say the same about her heart.

Sighing, she gazed at Parker as he slept in the hospital bed. His thick black hair was mussed, his unshaven jaw coated with stubble, his eyelashes dark against his too-pale skin. He had an IV taped to one arm, his shoulder heavily bandaged where he’d been shot. His breath rasped in the quiet air.

Both Parker and Hoffman had been flown to Baltimore during the night. They’d both undergone surgery, and both were expected to survive. Hoffman was down the hall, under arrest in a guarded room, while Parker recovered in his.

She picked up his heavy hand, taking in the warmth of his skin, the rough calluses on his palms, the sinews and tendons standing out on his muscled arms. Her gaze traveled from the stark white bandages on his shoulder to the alluring hollow at the base of his throat, and her heart made a sudden lurch. How he could manage to look sexy in a hospital gown, she didn’t know. But instead of appearing weak and vulnerable, he looked even more virile, like everything she’d ever wanted in a man.

If only he hadn’t lied.

Her emotions suddenly chaotic, she placed his hand on the starched white sheet. Then she leaned back in her seat and gazed at his face, lingering on his slashing black brows, his sensual mouth, his rough-hewn features now slack with sleep. He’d lied, all right—a detail she’d avoided thinking about until now. But she couldn’t put it off anymore.

A heavyset nurse in blue-flowered scrubs entered the room just then, her sneakers squeaking on the linoleum floor. Brynn exhaled at the timely reprieve.

“Good afternoon,” the nurse said with a pleasant smile. “How’s our patient?”

“Still asleep.”

Making a noncommittal sound, she set her laptop on a high, roller-wheeled table and plugged it in. Then she frowned at Parker’s chart.

Brynn waited for several heartbeats, her anxiety mounting when the nurse didn’t say anything. She studied the crease puckering the nurse’s brow, the way she worried her plump bottom lip with her upper teeth. Her chubby fingers tapped on the keyboard, the soft clicks adding to Brynn’s strained nerves.

“Is everything all right?” she finally asked, unable to bear the suspense.

The nurse tore her gaze from the computer, and her eyes crinkled into a smile. “He’s fine. You don’t need to worry about him. He’s young and strong. He’s going to recover in no time.”

Brynn inched out her pent-up breath. “How long will he be in the hospital?”

“You’ll have to ask the doctor, but probably a week. He’ll have to wear a sling for a couple of months after that. And he’ll need physical therapy down the road. But barring complications, he’ll be just fine.”

Brynn leaned back in her chair, relieved. No matter how complicated their relationship, she couldn’t stand the thought of him suffering—or worse.

The nurse checked his vital signs and changed the bag on his IV. Then she picked up her laptop and turned to go. “There’s coffee at the nurses’ station if you’d like some,” she offered with another smile.

Brynn thanked her, and she left the room, her shoes squeaking as she retreated down the hall. Alone now, Brynn turned her gaze to the monitors beside the bed. Numbers flashed across one screen. Lines zigzagged across another, recording Parker’s heartbeat, rhythmic and steady and strong. And she realized the time had come. She couldn’t avoid the topic she’d danced around for hours—Parker’s deception—no matter how much it hurt. She had to confront the truth.

Parker had been working for Hoffman. Hoffman had asked him to bring her in. She didn’t want to believe it. Even now, the betrayal flayed her, slashing through the illusions she’d built about this man.

But the reality was that he’d deceived her. Badly. Maybe he hadn’t lied outright, but neither had he revealed the truth. He’d told her about his father’s corruption. He’d confessed his feelings of failure and the pain he’d suffered at Tommy’s death. And he’d made love to her, touching her in ways no one else ever had.

But he’d concealed the one thing that really mattered, his relationship to her stepfather, even after she’d told him about the abuse.

No, he’d done worse than that. He’d intentionally misled her. He’d known she was Hoffman’s stepdaughter from the start. She’d ignored the signs, but now that she thought back, she didn’t have any doubt. He’d kept their connection secret, despite multiple opportunities to reveal the truth.

Closing her eyes, she massaged the ache between her brows. In some ways, she didn’t blame him. Hoffman put on a convincing act. He’d fooled Brynn’s mother. He’d fooled her elementary school teachers and the various social workers who’d filed through her life. He’d even fooled the people he worked with, impressing Senator Riggs so much that the senator was backing his political career. And Parker respected authority. He believed in following the rules. Of course he’d trust his boss.

She opened her eyes and gazed at Parker, a tumult of emotions crowding her throat. She couldn’t forget that he’d saved her life. He’d battled the gang members in that drive-by shooting. He’d saved her from the police. And now he’d taken a bullet for her, nearly dying on her behalf.

Even more disturbed now, she rose and went into the hall. A grim-faced doctor hurried past. People crowded around the nurses’ station down the hall. A voice came over the PA system, calling for a doctor
stat.

Hoping a walk would clear her mind, she headed in the opposite direction to the bank of elevators, then waited for one to arrive. A woman and her young daughter joined her, reminding her of the traumatized girl.

Brynn had last seen the girl at the Washington County hospital. Her horrified family had met her there, sticking close beside her even when the doctors wheeled her away for tests. She had a long road of recovery ahead, years of nightmares and distrust to overcome—a journey Brynn knew well. But she seemed strong. With her family’s support, she might make it through.

A soft
ding
announced the elevator’s arrival. Brynn stepped inside, then leaned against the handrail as it traveled to the bottom floor. She watched the floor numbers decrease, her mind returning to Parker McCall. She wanted to trust him. He’d saved her life. He’d risked everything to help her, putting himself on the line. Except for that one glaring omission, he’d acted honorably at every step. Should she forgive him?
Could
she forgive a lie of that magnitude?

Not able to come up with an answer, she exited the elevator on the first floor. Following the signs to the Courtyard Café, she walked down a hallway, past a pizza place and sandwich shop to a bright, airy room bustling with people and noise. Various scents filled the air—coffee, French fries, pizza—and her stomach growled. She couldn’t remember her last meal.

Deciding she needed an infusion of caffeine more urgently than she needed food, she ordered a large coffee from the nearest stall. Working one-handed, she loaded it with sweetener and cream, then downed several much-needed gulps. Already feeling better, she turned and scanned the room, searching for a quiet corner where she could think.

Her gaze landed on a woman sitting by the window, her face angled toward the street outside, and everything inside her froze.
Her mother.
The woman who’d refused to believe her. The woman who’d failed to protect her. The woman who’d turned her back on her, ignoring her desperate cries for help, leaving her at the mercy of a brutal man.

She’d come to visit her husband at the hospital, no doubt.

Brynn couldn’t move. She stood locked in place, anger erupting inside her, decades of bottled resentment threatening to explode. But the change in her mother’s appearance penetrated her fury, giving her pause. She’d put on weight since Brynn had seen her last. Her face was sallow and lined. Her hair was lanky and gray. She wore sloppy knit pants and a rumpled sweatshirt, her once-meticulous appearance now so slovenly that Brynn wondered if she’d been ill.

Did it matter? Did she care about her mother after all she’d put her through? Why should she? Her mother had enabled Hoffman’s abuse.

But surely her mother realized the truth about him now. Even she couldn’t deny the proof they’d recovered from that cabin—the photos, the necklaces, the videos in which he’d starred. Maybe she was sorry. Maybe she’d want to repair the past. Maybe she’d want to apologize for having been so blind.

Her mother lumbered to her feet. She threw her trash in a nearby receptacle, then headed down the corridor toward the exit sign.

Making a quick decision, Brynn took several more swallows of coffee, then dumped her cup in the trash. Keeping one eye on her mother, she dodged the people crowding the food court and hurried to catch up.

She reached her a minute later. “Mom, wait!” she called.

Her mother came to a stop. She turned, causing people to swerve around them, her gaze connecting with Brynn’s. Her face paled. Her eyes turned tortured, filled with something that looked a lot like remorse. “Brynn...”

Brynn didn’t trust herself to answer. Her belly churning, she stood in the busy corridor, facing the woman who’d had the power to save her—and failed.

“It...it’s true, then?” her mother asked.

“Yes, it’s true.”

Her mouth twisted. Pain racked her bloated face, her expression turning even more stricken now. “I thought I knew him. That he was a good, generous man. I couldn’t imagine him doing those despicable things to you. I didn’t think he would ever hurt a child.”

“I tried to tell you. You didn’t believe me.”

“I thought... He was so good with kids. So generous. I didn’t know.”

“You should have. You should have believed me instead of him.”

“But you liked him at first. It wasn’t until later, after we were married...”

“When he started abusing me.”

Her mother blanched. And Brynn took a long, hard look at the woman who’d raised her, knowing her world was crumpling apart. She’d based her life on a lie.

Brynn turned away. Then she headed down the corridor, past the pizza store, past a gift shop, hardly caring where she went. Her mother now knew the truth. She had to face the reality of her actions and suffer the guilt. She’d enabled an evil man to prey on defenseless kids.

Her own feelings in turmoil, Brynn wove her way through the crowd. Should she forgive her mother? Did she even want to see her again? Everything inside her rebelled against the thought. The pain was too deep, the betrayal too horrific, the shock of seeing her again too fresh. Maybe someday...or maybe not. Right now she didn’t know.

And what about Parker? Should she forgive his deceit? She had every right to be mad at him. He’d lied to her about her stepfather—a betrayal that truly hurt.

But people made mistakes. He’d had good cause to suspect her at first. And she knew deep down she could trust him. He’d proven it time and again.

Yet did she
want
to forgive him? She resumed walking, that thought disquieting her even more. Because frankly, she felt safer holding on to her anger, that righteous indignation that had sustained her for all these years. It felt familiar, secure. If she let it go, if she stopped thinking of herself as a victim and forgave Parker, she lost the barrier protecting her heart.

And that made her vulnerable, the feeling she dreaded most. Because once she dropped that emotional shield, Parker would see the woman inside—with all her flaws. And he might not like who he found.

She reached the elevators and pushed the button, her thoughts swirling from Parker and her mother to the accusation Haley had hurled at her. But as much as it wounded her pride to admit it, her friend was right. She was hiding behind her work. Her photos weren’t only about the runaways; they were about her. They’d always been about her—her fear, her vulnerability, her shame. Not that what she did wasn’t important; she thoroughly believed in her cause. But she’d hidden behind those photos, taking refuge in her anonymity, afraid to need, afraid to trust, afraid to subject herself to betrayal again.

The elevator arrived. She stepped inside, then watched the numbers flash as it climbed to Parker’s floor. So now she had to decide—to cling to the anger or stop blaming Parker and make herself vulnerable by taking a risk on love.

The elevator bounced to a stop. The doors slid open, and she headed to Parker’s hall. She rounded the corner, the sudden commotion bringing her to a standstill. Police officers swarmed the corridor. Doctors ran past, barking orders and talking on phones. Nurses huddled in groups in doorways and near their stations, their eyes startled, their hands covering their mouths. The PA blared overhead.

“Watch out!” a doctor said, knocking into her as he hurried past.

Clutching her sling, Brynn flattened herself to the wall, still trying to process the hectic scene. What on earth was going on?
Has something happened to Parker?
Fear jolting through her, she started toward his room to find out.

“Get out of the way,” someone shouted behind her. “Let the police by.”

She ducked into a doorway to let them pass. Then, eyeing an opening, she darted across the hall to a group of nurses clustered behind their desk.