Mission Happy (A Texas Desires Novel Book 3) (33 page)

With the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, he listened intently. The utter silence on the property confirmed his fear.

Connor stayed low, working his way back inside. He shut and locked the door, lowered the blinds, then went straight for the bathroom. Without saying a word, he twisted the handle, easily popping the door open. Julie sat on a side bench, a wet washcloth in her hands. She was still crying. When her eyes met his, everything stopped.

“What?” she whispered, fear instantly replaced the sorrow on her face. Connor shut the door behind him. Rationally, he knew that if the threat was inside this room, they would already have her, but where Julie was concerned, logic seemed hard to come by. Connor went straight to the closet, grabbing his SIG Sauer from the top dresser drawer.

“You’re scaring me,” she said from the open closet door.

He lifted his finger to his lips to silence her, then dropped an extra magazine into his athletic shorts pocket. He checked the barrel, moved the safety, then grabbed her upper arm, guiding her toward the panic room a few feet away. He didn’t stop for her purse and there was a cell phone inside the room. He was strong and had to curb that strength as he dragged her through the open door. When he stepped out, she fought him, clutching onto his wrist to draw him back in with her.

“No, come in here with me. Let the police handle it,” she begged as he wrenched his arm free.

“Something’s wrong. Call the police right now, and no matter what, stay inside here.” Forcefully, he pushed her backward, then initiated the lock system himself. The door quickly slid shut, the locking system clicking in place, only to be opened from the inside. That should have also been enough to alert the authorities.

Connor went for the bedroom door. Staying just to the left of the doorway, he reached to turn off the overhead lights, and crouched lower to the ground, his pistol aimed to the floor with a finger on the trigger, before swinging the door wide open. He paused to listen and heard nothing. As he stayed low and started around the threshold, he heard the sounds of a silenced weapon being discharged, then a whizzing above his head.

The threat was close.

Connor kept his head low, listening to a rustling moving in the opposite direction. He bolted around the corner. Whoever had taken that shot had just started down the stairs. He followed, catching a shadow rounding the bottom of the stairwell. Shit, he was farther away than he’d realized. With his free hand, he grabbed the handrail, and jumped over the side to land squarely on his two feet the fifteen or so feet down. Luckily, he ducked and rolled as another bullet flew above his body. He didn’t miss a beat as he sprinted toward the shadow of a man less than thirty feet in front of him.

Connor’s adrenaline exploded as a green dot from a laser gunsight landed directly on his chest. Instantly, he lifted his weapon and fired off a shot as he dodged the one heading his way. He didn’t slow as he felt the impact of a needle hitting his right arm. He rounded a chair, firing his weapon again as the guy curved around the wall, entering the living room.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew to swipe the needle away. The mind-numbing effects were immediate, explaining why everything had grown so quiet around the property. He fought through the chemical haze and kept his gun trained in the direction the intruder had taken. When he heard the release of another tranquilizing dart, he dove behind the sofa for better coverage.

Staying crouched on his feet, he lifted his gaze to the floor to ceiling windows along the back wall. The nightfall created a mirroring effect, allowing him to search the room for any sign of the guy. Connor shook his head as darkness began to seep in from all sides.

Movement caught his eye. Connor had him. The intruder looked slightly overweight and stood behind a center beam in the middle of the room. No doubt, he could see Connor just as easily.

“I know you were hit. I’ll wait you out!” The guy’s high-pitched scream sounded frantic and crazed.

Connor didn’t say a word, instead he slowly and quietly moved to the other end of the sofa, his weapon now between both his fists as his right arm started to weaken. He didn’t have much time left, and he needed the creep to take one step forward or one step backward. The shot would be a hard, ugly to execute, but he could certainly bring the guy down.

“You ruined everything.” The guy screeched, but still didn’t move.

“How so?” Connor asked calmly, turning his head around the edge of the sofa, looking through the legs of the side table to scope out his immediate area. To get a better shot, he needed to move past the end table and around the far side of another chair. He’d never engaged in conversation during a shootout, but if he distracted the guy, maybe he could buy himself some time for better execution.

“She’s always been mine! I’ll kill you for touching her.” A violent screech ripped through the room, giving him the perfect opportunity to move. With a shake of the head, his body heavier than ever before, he leapt toward the chair. His stare stayed trained on the psychopath.

The guy had watched him and growled furiously, beating a fist at his chest as he bolted from behind the beam, running toward Connor with the dart gun pointed at him. Connor didn’t hesitate in taking the shot. He hammered the guy with bullets. Something in the back of his mind registered the bulletproof vest in the way the guy stumbled backward. With his eyesight fading, Connor adjusted his aim, firing to hit any other body part outside the vest. Connor’s body gave out, falling in a heap onto the hardwood floor. His gun clicked empty as Julie’s scream permeated his numb brain.

What the hell? She shouldn’t have left the panic room. What if he’d missed his target in all this fucking haze? The fear of that thought had him trying to lift, but he couldn’t even keep his eyes open as unconsciousness took him under.

From the chair pushed right next to Connor’s hospital bed, Julia lifted her head as a nurse entered the room. She stopped by a small sink and squirted a couple of pumps of hand-sanitizer on her palms before coming to her side and glancing down at an unconscious Connor. She rubbed her palms together, spreading the sanitizer, before checking the many machines and tubes connected to her guy.

“No change?” she asked, rounding the bed to the other side, checking the IV inserted in his hand.

“No. Nothing yet,” Julia said, wishing she could remember the nurse’s name. Julia’s grip on Connor’s hand tightened. There had been no sign of improvement for the last twelve hours. “How’s my sister?”

“She’s doing much better. Her stomach’s settled down. Your parents are in with her now,” she said, adjusting the pillow on Connor’s bed. Julia had watched this same routine every hour or so since Connor had been given this room.

“How about Bruno and his brother?”

The nurse gave her a small, reassuring smile and came to the end of the bed to face her. Under all the stress of arrival, Julia had accidentally given the hospital Bruno’s nickname and it seemed to have stuck, the staff agreeing the name suited him, even after he had set them straight.

“He’s a handful and demanding release. He’s only stayed because of the seriousness of the drugs his body absorbed, and honestly, I’m not sure that’s going to matter much longer,” she answered, her gaze turned assessing as she looked Julia over. “Can I get you anything? They say you haven’t eaten. I can send someone to the cafeteria for you.”

“I’m fine. I’ve got water,” Julia said, her full attention back on Connor. “If you need help dealing with Bruno, let me know. I can’t promise anything, but sometimes he listens to me.”

“Noted. I suspect he’ll be in here soon.” The nurse went back to the sink, pumping a couple of squirts again. The oppressive quiet of the room seemed to add to the stress of this larger-than-life man lying lifeless in this bed.

“Why’s it taking Connor so long to come back?” Julia asked, stopping the nurse as she opened the door to leave, helping to break the silence that seemed to build terror inside her. She’d asked this same question at least a half a dozen times over the last six or seven hours, since both Bruno and her sister had woken, hoping someone might have a different answer. The nurse came back inside the room, letting the door fully shut before she spoke.

“Ms. Holly, you can’t lose hope. He was hit multiple times. He’s got a lot to get past. Your sister and Rex were only hit once. Connor withstood four direct doses. Give him time, hun. He’ll get there.”

Julia nodded, taking a small amount of comfort in the fact that all the medical professionals were saying about the same thing. Julia tightened her hold on Connor’s hand and lowered her head to kiss the top of his hand.

“Please wake up,” she whispered quietly, kissing his hand again.

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything before I leave?” the nurse asked, again at the door.

Julia never turned away, keeping her eyes trained on Connor’s handsome face as she answered. “No, I’m fine. Just please tell me when his parents arrive. They won’t know to ask for things a certain way, and I don’t want them turned away.”

“No problem. I’ve told the front desk. They’re on the lookout.”

Julia nodded, listening to the door click closed after the nurse left the room.

Maybe the hardest part of all this rested in how helpless and vulnerable Connor looked lying in this bed. Even with all the reassurance from the medical staff, she had a hard time wrapping her head around Connor being any less than the force of nature she’d come to love with all her heart.

Even all these hours later, she still didn’t know much more than her old stalker had just walked out of the state mental hospital he’d been confined to. Worse than that, no one had even noticed he’d gone missing—not the mental facility or the authorities. He’d been stealthy and heavily armed as he’d come straight for her.

She still had no idea what Connor had seen to put the pieces together last night. Thank God he had. If he hadn’t, no doubt, her stalker would have gotten her. Connor had saved her life again. His steady resolve never ever wavered. The man was relentless, just like his tattoo stated. He had effectively stopped the threat against her, almost killing the man. Her stalker was in critical condition and on life-support just a few floors down. He’d taken a direct hit to the neck, severing his spinal cord. They didn’t expect him to survive. Julia couldn’t muster a single caring thought. Past even the idea of letting fate deal with the guy. He was brutal and deserved what he got.

Julia stared at Connor’s handsome face, made more passive by sleep. Tears welled in her eyes when she remembered that he’d planned to leave her. If last night hadn’t happened, Connor would be gone right now. That knowledge shattered the small amount of her heart that she’d been able to keep together. She loved this man more than she could express, but right this minute, all she wanted was for him to open his eyes, be alert, and stand up, so he could walk out that door and away from her like he’d intended to do.

The heavy door burst open, banging against the wall, causing Julia to jerk around, her heart slamming in her chest as Cole barreled into the room. Julia’s shoulders slumped in relief. Cole must have dropped everything and come straight to Connor’s side. Her tears spilled over as Cole’s face contorted into grief as he stared at the unresponsive Connor. He didn’t break stride as he came straight to the bed.

“What are they sayin’?” he asked tersely, the tension in his voice making his deep southern accent more pronounced. He pivoted, rounding away from Julia, his hand reaching out for Connor, keeping hold of him as he went to the other side. Carefully, he took Connor’s hand as he turned his ball cap backward on his head and bent forward, gently hugging Connor the best he could.

“They said he was shot multiple times with a ketamine cocktail that may have had traces of an elephant tranquilizer—it’s heavy, serious stuff. They’ve done everything they can to pull the drugs from his system. Now, it’s up to him. He’s not waking, but they don’t seem overly concerned yet. It’s freaking me out. I hate seeing him like this.”

“Connor, open your eyes,” Cole said right in Connor’s face. When Connor didn’t move, Cole said it again with much more force. “Open your damn eyes, you muscled fool.”

Julia watched Connor closely, praying Cole could get him to wake. Nothing happened.

“Could this be the brain injury?” Cole asked, still staring at his best friend.

“I told them about that and told them all his doctors’ names and his commander’s name. They did a CT scan and didn’t see the dark spot, but they also don’t have the most sophisticated imaging equipment. The neurologist doesn’t believe the two are connected.”

“Connor, wake your ass up, man,” Cole said sternly again right in his face. Several seconds passed as Cole stared intently at Connor. She knew he was willing him to open his eyes. She’d done that same move over and over. Cole’s concern was palpable, validating all the fears she’d tried hard to keep at bay. She fought the tears, swiping at the few that managed to slip free. Cole kept hold of Connor’s hand and glanced over his shoulder. He reached for a chair, pulling it forward to sit opposite of her.

“Ty and Kenzie are on their way.”

Julia didn’t say a word; she just nodded. There was silence for several more minutes as they both stared at Connor.

“He was leaving. He planned to go back to San Diego this morning. He’d just told me before all this went down,” she confessed on a stuttered breath.

Cole turned his head, that tough, penetrating stare trained on her. He didn’t say a single word.

“I was crying and didn’t even understand what was going on when he shoved me in the panic room. I don’t know what he saw that made him know there was danger. I begged him to let the police handle it. To come inside the room with me.”

“He wasn’t leaving you.”

“Yeah, he was. He’d just told me,” she said, nodding to confirm her dire statement. Her troubled gaze traveled over Connor’s body as a deep, unsteady sigh escaped. She bent, pressing her lips to his knuckles, hoping for, yet also fearing, the day that she wouldn’t be able to reach out and touch him like this.

“He wasn’t leaving you, Julie. He loves you,” Cole said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

The damn tears that she seemed to have no control over slid down her cheeks as she whispered, “I love him. I didn’t want him to go.”

“Con and I haven’t talked about this, but it doesn’t matter. I know him like I know my own face. He’s strugglin’ with his place with you. He has since the beginning. Con never does more or takes more than he can pay for. He’s always been like that. He’s been my best friend since kindergarten. My family would go on skiing trips every year. I’d invite him, beg him to go, and he wouldn’t because of money. Even though we offered to cover everything. He’s bullheaded like that. He loves you. I can tell how much he loves you because of how hard he’s tried to figure it out in order to be with you.”

Everything always came down to money. Connor wouldn’t have had this room or this professional staff had she not given her personal guarantee to cover the cost. Yet the man she loved rejected her for the sole reason of the size of her bank accounts. In her opinion, Connor should be relieved he didn’t have to worry about their finances, even enjoy some of the freedom she could provide them, but how did she explain that to this stubborn, hardheaded man?

“I can’t help what I’ve made,” she said, defensively.

“I know that. Hell, he knows that. That’s why he’s tryin’,” Cole said a little heatedly. “If he was leavin’, it had to be to clear his head, not leave you. He’d never leave you. That’s not how he’s wired. He’ll connect one time with a woman in his lifetime. He’ll never love another woman again like he loves you. He’s tryin’, Julie.”

Silence fell between them for several long, tense moments. Her heart had suffered so deeply she couldn’t seem to fully take in those words without Connor waking to say that Cole spoke the truth. This was all too much to bear.

“This was a stalker?” Cole asked as he rolled the tensed muscles in his neck.

“Yeah. A long-time one,” Julia said, thankful for the subject change, even if the change took her thoughts from bad to worse where Connor was concerned. She kept her hand on Connor’s and laid her head on the side of the bed, pressing her lips to his fingers. Exhaustion made everything a little harder to assimilate.

“Did the guy make it, or did Connor take him down?”

“He was on life-support the last I heard anything. He’s not expected to live,” she said.

“This might’ve helped Con find his place with you.”

“What does that mean?” Julia lifted her head, looking straight at Cole, but he was cut off as the door pushed open again. Julia jerked around to see Bruno bursting through. Why did every man in her life feel the need to make such a dramatic entrance? With her heart pounding, she registered how haggard, pale, and angry he looked. He came straight for Julia, clamping a firm hand on her shoulder.

“I failed you,” Bruno declared loudly. She turned back to Connor as she lifted her hand to his, squeezing tightly.

“You haven’t ever failed me. He came prepared. No one could have known.”

“I should have. This will never happen again.” Bruno shrugged her hand off his and moved to the foot of the bed, resting both palms on the frame, staring down at Connor. “How’s he doing? No one in this fucking place would answer a goddamn question.”

Bruno’s outburst came as the moment of levity she needed. She smiled a small grin, thinking about the countless times Bruno had ignored her, refusing to speak, much less answer her on anything. When Bruno’s hand went to Connor’s leg, shaking him, she knew that was the same attitude Cole had given into, forcefully demanding Connor to wake. In such a short time, Connor had become a beloved part of her little family. Instantly, the damn tears started again in the whiplash of emotions flipping all around inside her.

Bruno moved closer, reaching out, wrapping a stiff arm around her shoulders, roughly drawing her against the side of his body, trying for comfort.

“He’s not coming out of it. I’m scared,” she confided.

“He will. He’s strong.”

That seemed all the compassion Bruno could give. He moved, reaching for another chair, letting it loudly scrap across the floor to sit next to Julia. Grave concern made his natural scowl harden into something fierce as they all three stared at Connor.