The Doctor's Defender (Protection Specialists Book 3) (15 page)

She clutched his arm. “I remembered where I’d seen him. He’s the father of a patient I had a few years ago. He abused his son. I reported him.”

Tension came off Kyle in waves. He rose. “We’re leaving.”

She moved to follow just as the emcee announced her name.

“They just introduced you,” he said, his gaze narrowing. “Are you okay?”

She heard the polite applause, felt the expectant stares and forced herself to function. She was supposed to give a speech, but her mind was a complete blank.

Panic battered at her. “I have to give my speech.” Mustering all her reserves, she forced the panic aside and fought for her control. “The only way to catch him is if he tries something. The only way that will happen is if I go up there.”

Kyle shook his head and tugged at her to follow him. “No.”

She didn’t move. “You’ll be with me. Nothing will happen. You’ll make sure nothing happens to me.”

Praying the words of her speech would come, she headed toward the front of the ballroom. Kyle let out a frustrated growl and followed with his hand at her back. Her gaze scanned the sea of bodies, looking for that man. She didn’t see him. It had to be coincidence that he’d be a waiter here tonight. Didn’t it?

Kyle made her pause before stepping onto the platform while he consulted with Detective Lebowitz. Several of the waitstaff had formed a barrier of sorts around the stage. These were Chicago police officers disguised as waiters. She saw Jackie standing off to the left and Trevor to the right. Both appeared to be alert and ready for action. Seeing them bolstered her flagging courage.

“Stay behind the podium,” Kyle whispered in her ear. “If I say ‘duck,’ you duck.”

A boulder of fear pressed on her chest. So much for her courage. She drew in air and slowly let it out, trying to calm her nerves. At Kyle’s nod, she approached the podium. The glare of floodlights shining in her face made everyone in the room blur. She glanced at Kyle. He stood onstage within reach if she needed him. Drawing strength from his presence, she began her speech.

* * *

Kyle hated how exposed and vulnerable Brenda was on the platform, standing behind a thin wood podium. Her strong voice filled the room as she spoke about the need for funds to advance the technology of Heritage Hospital’s surgical department.

Every precaution had been taken. He was in constant communication with Trevor and Jackie through their earpieces. They were keeping a close eye on the tables and the waitstaff. Lebowitz had officers stationed throughout the ballroom. Kyle had informed the detective of the suspicious waiter. He was looking for someone who matched the description Brenda gave. If Brenda’s assassin tried anything, he’d go down quickly.

Still, Kyle knew how quickly and easily even the best-laid strategies could be derailed.

Always plan for the unexpected,
his CO used to say.

Lots harder to do in practice than theory. He scanned the balconies, looking for anything out of place, but the lights had been dimmed. He could make out only the silhouettes of diners listening with rapt attention.

A creaking noise, barely audible above Brenda’s voice, shot a spike of adrenaline through his system. He moved closer, trying to discern where the noise originated.

Brenda ended her speech. The crowd erupted in applause. Just as she turned to leave the platform, Kyle heard the snap, felt the swoosh of air as the hanging basket over Brenda’s head came hurtling down. A collective gasp rippled through the room. Someone screamed. Kyle sprang forward, snagging Brenda by the waist and diving off the platform, taking her with him. He rolled as they landed so that he took the brunt of the fall. Pain reverberated where his shoulder and hip connected with the floor. The basket crashed onto the platform, pulverizing the podium.

Three loud bangs sent a deafening shock wave through the room as an intense flash of light lit up the room. The ballroom broke out in pandemonium.

Flash bombs.

Kyle clutched Brenda against his chest, glad they were low enough that the blinding light hadn’t affected his vision. The flash of light undoubtedly momentarily blinded everyone else in the room. His ears, however, rang from the explosion.

“Are you hurt?” he yelled over the din of chaos.

She clung to him. “No.”

Relieved she was unharmed, he got his feet under him and helped her to stand. He had to get her to safety. Where were Trevor and Jackie?

He couldn’t see them in the crush of people pushing toward the exits. Leading with his shoulder, he plowed a path through the crowd and out the door.

Lebowitz met them outside the ballroom.

“This way,” he shouted, directing them toward a closed door, marked Employees Only.

The door led to a dark cement corridor.

“This is the employee entrance,” Lebowitz explained. “It comes out by the valet parking lot. I’ll make sure no one follows you.”

Kyle kept Brenda close as they ran. They heard Lebowitz yell, “Stop. Police.”

Then gunfire.

The sound of people running toward them spurred Kyle to move faster. Someone fired at them. Bullets ricocheted off the cement walls. Kyle grabbed for his weapon and reached back to return fire.

They came to the end of the tunnel.

Brenda tried the door. “No!” She pounded on the locked door.

Frantic, Kyle pulled her out of the way and gave the door a hard kick, hoping to bust the lock. It wouldn’t budge.

Four men crowded into the corridor behind them and blocked the only escape.

They were trapped. There was nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.

His heart dropped. Fear tightened a noose around his neck. He pushed Brenda behind him to shield her.

“Kyle?”

Brenda’s panicked whisper stabbed at the very core of his being. In the space of a heartbeat, he realized the undeniable and dreadful fact that he’d failed to protect an amazing, wonderful woman who’d worked her way into the very fiber of his being.

Please, Lord, save the woman I love.

* * *

Brenda fisted her hand in the back of Kyle’s tux jacket. Four men with big guns stared at them. They were all dressed as waitstaff. One of the men stepped forward, the glow of the single overhead light revealing his face.

The man she’d recognized earlier.

“You!” Kyle said.

The man smiled smugly. “Me. Now drop your weapon.”

Brenda didn’t understand. How did Kyle know this man?

Kyle held up his hands as he bent to lay his gun on the floor. “What is this about?”

The man ignored his question to focus those cruel gray eyes on Brenda. She shuddered and moved closer to Kyle.

“Finally,” their attacker said. “You are one tough woman to kill.”

She flinched as if he’d struck her.

“Who are you?” Kyle demanded.

“Ask her,” the man said with a sneer. “Ask her if she remembers ruining my life.”

Brenda gaped. Anger burst through the fear. “You beat your son.”

“So you say,” the man snapped.

“I remember a little boy who needed his spleen removed because you’d punched him,” she shot back. “That was what had actually happened, right? Not some biking accident, like you and your wife claimed.”

“You had no right to call the cops,” he said. “I went to jail because of you, and now you’re gonna pay.”

He raised his gun.

Realizing that to get to her he’d have to shoot Kyle first, Brenda stepped out from behind Kyle. Kyle tried to pull her back. She refused. If she was going to die, it wouldn’t be cowering behind the man she loved. “He has nothing to do with this. Let him go.”

“And let him blab to the police,” the man scoffed. “No way. You both have to die.” He pulled the trigger.

Kyle’s strong arms wrapped around her and yanked her to the floor.

A cacophony of noise bounced off the concrete walls and echoed in her brain, rattling her mind.

She flinched, closing her eyes tight.
Dear Lord, help!

Silence filled the corridor.

Brenda didn’t feel any pain, only Kyle’s arms holding her safely against his body. She lifted her head and whipped her gaze around. The gunmen lay on the ground, bleeding from leg and shoulder wounds. The man who’d tried to kill Brenda was hunched over on the ground, a bullet wound in his upper back. Behind them stood Trevor and Jackie, their guns still raised.

For a shocked moment, Brenda couldn’t believe they’d been spared. Then she looked at Kyle. His eyes were closed, his complexion white. A crimson-red stain spread across the stark white of his dress shirt. He’d been shot.

Terror unlike she’d ever known choked her. “Kyle!”

She scrambled out of his arms to check his pulse. Weak, but there. She pressed her hands over the wound to stem the flow of blood. “Call 911!”

Blood seeped through her fingers. Kyle’s blood. His life was ebbing out of him and she couldn’t stop it. Tears fell and a sob broke through.

* * *

Pain jolted Kyle awake.

Brenda!

He tried to sit up, but gentle hands held him down.

“Shh,” a familiar and beloved voice said. Brenda. “Take it easy. You’re safe.”

Prying his eyelids open by sheer force of will, he winced as daylight stung his eyes. Then he saw her face.

Brenda. Alive and well. Tears blurred his vision. He blinked them back. She looked so much as she had that first day. Her hair pulled back in a tight bun. Dark clothes beneath her lab coat. He couldn’t see if she had on the red pumps or not. He really liked those red shoes.

Just as he loved this beautiful, tough, amazing woman. His heart hammered in his chest.

God had given them a chance at a future. Together. He wanted to shout it out loud. He wanted to take her into his arms and hold her tight. He lifted his hand, but the movement sent a fire trail of pain shooting through him.

“How... What happened?” he asked, his voice coming out hoarse. He remembered seeing Trevor and Jackie advancing. Remembered the sound of gunfire. The searing pain.

“You were shot in the shoulder.” She gave a wry twist to her lips. “And in the chest, but the body armor stopped that bullet from piercing your heart.”

“Praise God for small favors.”

“Here, try to drink some water.” She cradled his hand and lifted a cup to his lips. He sipped the cool liquid.

When he’d had his fill, he asked, “You? You’re okay?”

A tender smile curved her lips. “Yes. You saved me yet again.”

“Doing my job,” he quipped.

She studied him for a moment. “Yes, well, your job is over. Simon Leto, the man who wanted to kill me, is in jail, and so are his cohorts.”

“He was the one who tried to deliver flowers to your apartment that first day,” he said.

“I wondered how you knew him.”

“Lebowitz?”

“He was shot in the abdomen. Thankfully no vital organs were hit. He’s recovering nicely, as well,” she said.

“Good.” He was relieved to know the detective hadn’t died. “Trevor and Jackie?”

“They’re out in the waiting room.” She gave him a stiff smile. “I’ll go get them for you.”

He snagged her wrist before she could move away. “I’d rather you didn’t.”

She stared at him. “Why?”

“Because I’d rather you stayed here with me.”

“You don’t need me,” she said, her expression closed off. “Your vitals look good.”

But he did need her. And he was going to do everything in his power to make her see that. He shook his head. “My heart hurts.”

Concern darkened her eyes. “I can get you some more pain medication.”

“Meds won’t help what I’ve got,” he said. He searched her face, memorizing the curve of her cheek, the bow of her lips. He loved this woman with his whole being. He wasn’t sure how she felt, but facing his own mortality and dealing with the possibility of losing Brenda had made him realize he wasn’t going to waste any time wondering and speculating. He had to tell her how he felt, and he’d do whatever it took to ensure their future was spent together.

He stroked the soft skin of her wrist where her pulse beat. “I love you.”

Her pulse jumped beneath his touch. Her eyes grew wide. “You do?”

“I do.” He drew in a bracing breath. “I’ve spent my whole life pushing people away. Afraid to let myself love. Telling myself it was better to be free than settled down. I told myself a lot things that were just excuses to keep people at arm’s length. I thought life would be easier without any ties. But I was wrong. I want to be settled down. I want to be tied to someone. I want to be tied to you.” He was baring his soul, and it was as scary as diving out the back of air transport at ten thousand feet and his parachute failing. He swallowed and forced himself to continue. “I hope...I pray that you...might feel something for me?”

Disbelief gave way to joy as a smile that could light up the whole city spread across her face. “Oh, yes. I feel something, all right. I’ve been fighting it from the day you walked into Dr. Landsem’s office. I thought you were everything I’m not. Brave, honorable and kind.”

“But you are those things,” he protested.

She shook her head. “No. I was afraid of being hurt. I’d closed myself off to everyone and everything. I wasn’t really living, only existing. But then you came along and made me feel. Made me want to be a better person. You taught me about faith.” She smiled softly. “I admire your faith. I admire you.” She cupped his face with her hands. “I love you.”

Elation filled him. “Then kiss me.”

“My pleasure,” she said and dipped her head.

Her lips were tender and sweet, and when she lifted her head, he groaned. “No, don’t stop.”

The look of uncertainty in her eyes sobered him. “Brenda?”

“How will we do this, Kyle? Your life is in Boston. Mine is here.”

He wasn’t going to let her push him away. He tugged her closer. “Logistics.”

Her mouth curved in a wry smile. “Excuses.”

They were on the same page. Good. “I’m sure my boss wouldn’t mind if I open an office here. Or maybe the Chicago P.D. would have room for a frogman.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “You’d do that? You’d move here? For me?”

He nodded. “But only if you’ll kiss me again.”