Final Surrender (16 page)

“Or why he started back up again.”

“Correct.”

James turned off the engine and both men exited in silence and made their way toward the front door of the hospital’s Emergency Room entrance.

Clay didn’t fail to notice the photographers hanging around outside, like vultures.

“Are you going to tell her about it now, the first…occurrence, I mean?” Clay asked in a low whisper.

“Officially I can’t, since I’m having to withhold that detail as evidence, but if someone else wanted to share it with her, after I leave, I couldn’t stop them.”

They entered the building and James went to the front counter, showing his badge. “Angela Meyers was brought in a little while ago, and we need to speak with her. Is she still in the ER?”

The receptionist looked at her computer, punched a few buttons in and said, “No, Detective Wyatt, she’s up in X-ray right now, on the sixth floor. She might be there for a little while because she’ll have to have a full CT scan. You can get there by taking the elevators down the hallway to your right.”

Clay had to stifle the urge to roll his eyes, knowing exactly how Angela got when her mind was made up about something.

James flashed a charming grin along with his “Thank you,” to the woman behind the desk, who was already reaching to answer another phone call coming in.

They got on the elevator and headed to the sixth floor. After the doors shut, James cleared his throat and said, “Clay, don’t take this the wrong way, but I need to ask you a question. I don’t know how well you know Angela, but do you know if she is one-hundred-percent trustworthy? With the info you need to discuss with her, I have to make sure that said info isn’t going to show up in
The Times
tomorrow, or it’s my ass that will be in the ER. Unemployed.”

Clay turned to stare at him. “If there is one person on the planet that can keep a secret, it’s Angela.”

James nodded once.

“Did she at least call you when the harassing started up again? Please tell me, even if she kept it from everybody else, she had sense enough to keep you informed.”

James nodded again and faced the elevator doors. “I believe we have every event cataloged with the originals, even the latest ones from the last few weeks. I’m kicking myself for pulling the tap on her phones though. I knew this dickwad wasn’t through. This time, we’ll catch whoever it is. I’ll wager my badge on it.”

Clay remained silent, praying Angela would win that bet. Her life was worth more than just a badge. She now had him with her 24/7, along with Wyatt. If he was even half as good at being a detective as he was at being a sniper for the Marines, Angela was in good hands.

Finally, the doors opened with a
whoosh
and a ding on the sixth floor. They went quietly down the hall to find X-ray.

Chapter Sixteen

Angela was pretty sure she had been hit by a freight train.

She had been right, her dress and shoes had been ruined, and she now lay in a hospital gown with bare feet, on a bed with wheels and bars on the side. If someone came in and asked how many fingers they were holding up one more time, she was going to shoot someone…with her IV bag.

As soon as she had arrived in the ambulance they had wheeled her in with everyone rushing around like chickens.

Ordering this test and that one, like she was code red or blue or pink with purple polka dots, whichever one was the most critical. She was certain there were other people in the hospital that needed more attention, and she would be more than happy to give them hers if all of the people whispering and casting her furtive glances and scurrying away would just knock it off.

She tried assuring them she was fine and she could feel everything and all of her parts seemed to be working as they should. That killed about twenty minutes.

They even had to run a pregnancy test before she was sent to X-ray for the CT scan on her head.

She actually laughed when they asked if it was a possibility.

Being pretty sure you still had to have sex to get pregnant the old-fashioned way, she assured them there was zero-percent chance of her being pregnant, but they just patted her hand and said they had to run it anyway, just to be sure.

Be sure, my ass
, she thought as she closed her eyes. Trying to block out the noise and movement all around her.

Being poked and prodded wasn’t her idea of a good time, and she wanted to rip the IV out of her arm, wrap the too-flimsy garment around her naked butt and catch a taxi home.

Surely there aren’t any photographers around
, she thought.

They had cleaned her wounds, which were unfortunately plentiful, but mostly a case of road rash they called it, when she scraped the concrete.

She was really thankful she didn’t remember any of that part.

The last thing she remembered, before coming to and seeing Clay sitting next to her was talking to photographers. She couldn’t remember anything in between.

Now she lay in the CT room, waiting for a tech to come back with the go-ahead from the tests, so they could take lots of pictures of her head and hopefully send her home.

She didn’t want to be there, but they told her it was either the CT scan or an MRI, and the MRI lasted an hour longer.

They also told her she had to stay awake, this being her second concussion, but all she wanted to do was sleep for a week.

She was exhausted physically, mentally and her emotions were on a very short string.

All of a sudden, what was left of the hair on her arms under the bandages stood up on end. She turned to the section of glass the technician looked through to see Clay staring at her.

The look on his face seemed pained and she wondered if he had been injured in the blast. She hoped not, but just couldn’t remember enough to be sure.

She was going to smile at him, but he turned to talk to someone else right out of her view through the almost window, and he looked annoyed. At least it wasn’t at her this time.

Just then a technician came through the door and said, “Okay, Ms. Meyers, sorry for the holdup. We are all ready now.”

“Good, I’m ready to go home.”

The technician smiled and helped her onto the movable table attached to the CT machine, and she only thought she felt naked before in the thin gown.

With Clay standing right outside staring at her, she was even more exposed.

She knew he’d seen it all before, but that fact just didn’t calm her down any.

The tech explained how the test was going to work, and that really all she had to do was keep still and not panic when he put her in the tube. Once he positioned her properly and she understood what she needed to do, the tech covered her with a blanket. She moaned.

“Yeah, I know the way to all the ladies’ hearts. Warm blankets,” proclaimed the tech as he made his way toward the door.

“You’ve got my vote.”

He opened the door and went outside. Angela turned her head to see him ease by Clay, who was still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest like a bodyguard.

Oh yeah, that’s exactly what he is
, she realized.

“Okay, I’m going to move you now, Ms. Meyers. I’ll start the test when you say ‘Ready, set, go.’ Just remember to stay as still as possible and I’ll have you out of there in a jiffy. Whenever you’re ready, Ms. Meyers.”

Angela took a few deep breaths and said, “Okay. Ready,” a bit shakier than she would have liked.

The tech made good on his promise and she was done quickly.

When the table moved her body out of the tube, she automatically looked for Clay, but he wasn’t standing there anymore.

She was stupidly disappointed, but didn’t have long to think about it before the tech was back in the room, helping her shift over to the hospital bed.

He wheeled her back down to the ER, where she saw Clay immediately.

Sitting on a hospital bed, with a nurse cleaning up his bloody hands.

“Hi,” she said as she passed him, with as much of a grin as she could muster. It felt foreign on her face though. The adrenaline was finally wearing off and the exhaustion wasn’t going to hold for long.

“I’ll be right over there, Angela, as soon as I’m done,” he added as she saw the nurse wiping blood away.

Angela looked away quickly, not wanting to see the penetrating stare Clay had on his face.

A couple minutes after they settled her back behind her curtain, she could hear shoes echoing off the tile floor and looked up to see Clay walk in.

His hair was a mess, his shirt was stained with dried blood and his hands looked raw around the white gauze he now wore.

His face was unreadable as he closed the curtain and faced her.

“How are you, Angela?”

She put her head back on the pillow and fought the need to close her eyes again. It was so bright in the hospital and all it seemed to be doing was making her headache worse.

“Been better, you?” she asked in return.

“Been worse,” he replied with an attempt at humor.

“Clay?” she asked, sounding frail even to her own ears. “What happened?”

He ran his hands through his hair and walked closer to the bed.

Angela scooted over in bed and patted the space next to her.

“What do you remember?” he asked as he softly sat next to her shredded body. She probably looked like a mummy with her arms bandaged, and bruises covering the left side of her face where she hit the concrete, and scratches littered the right side where the bomb pelted her with metal and debris.

“Nothing important. Just talking to reporters and then I was lying on the concrete and you were sitting next to me. I’ve heard several people around here say it was a bomb, but is that really right? Did a bomb really go off next to us?”

“It was definitely a bomb, and it went off right next to
you
. Right next to you and you were alone. I got separated from you and there was nothing I could do but watch you fly through the air and crumple on the sidewalk.”

He paused for a moment and pulled his eyes from hers, unable to look her in the face. Was she so ugly now he couldn’t even look at her? Tears welled in her eyes. She was so damn sick of feeling like a victim.

Slowly, he took her bandaged hand in his, so gently, and stared at it as he continued. “All hell broke loose around you and you just lay there lifeless. I thought…” His voice trailed off, unable to continue.

Angela stared at him with tears streaking her cheeks and then closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply as she finally remembered what happened.

“Thank you,” she whispered as she laid her hand on his head.

Clay’s head snapped up and his eyes bored into her face. “What in the hell are you thanking me for? I just told you that I’m the reason you’re lying here, and you thank me?” he barked.

Angela squeezed his hand gently and smiled softly. She opened her eyes and looked at him, though her head was surely going to fall off. Her body was so tired.

“When I got to the top of the stairs I didn’t look at the photographers. I was looking for you.”

After a few seconds, when Clay didn’t answer but did look a bit less hostile, she added, “I’m so used to being on my own I just marched up the stairs like I owned them, trying to get away from the cameras. When I reached the top of the stairs, I remembered I wasn’t alone tonight.

“I turned to search for you and my purse slipped. I was going to walk back down and wait for you. I know how the photographers are normally a bit pushy and then everything went black. I don’t remember anything else.

“So you’re the reason I’m
alive
, Clay. If you hadn’t been there tonight, I would have kept walking. I would have kept walking,” she said again, as the realization she came so close to dying finally sank in.

She’d been fighting the threats and phone calls for so long, she’d naively believed it would all go away.

It wouldn’t and she finally accepted that.

“Angela, if I would have been there—”

“Then what, Clay?” she asked softly. “You would have
sensed
there was a bomb? Or you would have whisked me away in time, once it exploded, so we didn’t get hurt? No, we both would have died, that’s what.”

She gripped his arms for support and pulled herself into a semi-sitting position in bed.

Clay opened his mouth to protest, but she waved it off.

“You can’t blame yourself for this. You didn’t set the bomb. We had no prior warning that this might happen. Promise me you won’t blame yourself?”

She searched his eyes, desperately needing his absolution of guilt. She knew what it was like to live with guilt. It could eat you alive.

He exhaled and nodded several times, swallowing quickly.

He ran his hand up and brushed her hair back from her shoulders. She must have surprised him by leaning forward, placing her cheek against his chest. Even through everything she could still smell his cologne.

Sometime later, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close. She was so drawn to him, she wanted nothing but to soak up the comfort in his arms.

“I want to go home,” she whispered as he brushed a kiss on the top of her head.

“I know,” he whispered back as he moved closer to her so she didn’t have to lean so far to reach him.

They remained that way until they heard footsteps coming closer again.

Angela cringed at the footsteps. She hated to be afraid and she couldn’t stop her body from reacting. Adrenaline was the last thing her body needed any more of on this particularly sucky evening.

She started shaking and Clay asked, “Angela?” when James pulled the curtain aside enough to enter and then pulled it closed again.

He paused for a moment when he saw them embracing, but when neither moved he said, “I’m sorry for interrupting, but, Ms. Meyers, I really need to get a statement from you.”

Angela tried to calm her frayed nerves but she started shaking instead. “Detective Wyatt? Fancy meeting you here.”

She leaned away from Clay and back on the pillows as the detective said, “Well, you know, when one of the city’s best hotels gets blown up with one of its top designers taking the brunt of it, I’m told I have to fill out a lot of paperwork.” He brushed his knuckles across her jaw.

He pulled up a chair next to the bed as Clay glared at him. “I didn’t know you
knew
each other so…well,” he accused.

Angela shrugged and said, “With how many threats I was getting, I was assigned a detective and Detective Wyatt here is that person.” She wondered if Clay was jealous, but shook that thought away, sure it was just the concussion talking. “So hit me with your best shot, Detective, while I’m still awake. I figure the quicker we get this over with, the quicker they’ll fill out my one-way ticket out of here. And believe me, my bed is calling my name in capital letters.”

The three of them sat there for what seemed like hours and rehashed the entire evening, from the creepy phone call up through the bombing and afterwards. By the end of the conversation Angela smiled and accused, “I didn’t know you knew each other so…well.”

“Clay and I were in the service together,” James said with a sense of pride.

Clay was about to speak when an authoritative man wearing blue scrubs walked in, leaving the curtain slightly open.

“Gentlemen, if you don’t mind giving us a minute, I need to speak with Ms. Meyers alone,” he added firmly.

Both men stood, but didn’t leave.

Angela felt protected at the moment and she was so close to the edge she didn’t want to give the feeling up voluntarily. She bantered with them as best she could but any minute she was pretty sure she was going to crack wide open and sob herself into a puddle.

“Actually, Dr. Rendini, they can stay if it’s all the same to you. It will save me having to repeat everything you say to them when you leave. And I’m too tired for that.”

The doctor eyed both frowning men and shrugged. “Up to you of course, Ms. Meyers.”

Clay and James made their way to one side of the bed when Dr. Rendini moved to the other.

“Well, your CT scan came back clear so you have no lesions or blood clots that we were worried about, and obviously no brain damage or anything really severe.

“You have a nasty concussion. Much worse than the one a week and a half ago, which will leave you with double vision and headaches for several weeks. Your amnesia should resolve itself fairly quickly as well.”

“What concussion?”

Both men looked at her and she nibbled her bottom lip.

“I may have gotten a slight concussion when I hit my head on the car last week.”

“You’re shitting me? I knew it was worse than you let on. Maybe you should stay here, and—”

“Actually, Doctor,” she cut Clay off before he could go any further, “I already remember everything up to the moment of impact. So the amnesia is already gone.”

“That is wonderful to hear.” He made a note in her chart. “Other than that, you will need to take it real easy for a few days and then slowly get back into your normal routine. I’m going to write you a prescription for some painkillers. They’ll help with the headaches and the general ass kicking you just took like a champ.”