Being Amber. Sylvia Ryan

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СКАЧАТЬ contact the supervisor at her work assignment and place Jordan to work with her there.”

      They all spent the next twelve hours breaking down the previous cases with Wes, hammering out surveillance schedules and setting up the monitoring system that would track the chip in Jaci’s com, giving her exact location as well as bugging her conversations and messages. It was late morning when the group finally left the station. Xander was exhausted by the time he headed out to meet up with Jordan, who’d been doing surveillance all night.

      He sat with her, sweating his ass off, in the police cruiser parked outside of building seventeen. He just finished updating Jordan on the strategy meeting she’d missed and was delighted to be the one to tell her about her new job assignment as painter, when she pointed to the building.

      “There she is. They’re delivering her back home.”

      Xander watched Jaci as the sterilization transport staff pushed her wheelchair into the side entrance of the building. She sat unmoving, her arms wrapped around herself, and her gaze fixed down at her lap.

      “Shit.” His heart broke while he watched her being wheeled inside. She looked spent, like she had nothing left. “I should have been there last night and this morning. She needed me.”

      Jordan answered him with a sympathetic look and a pat on the shoulder.

      A few minutes later, they watched the transport pull away. He sighed. “I’m beat. I’m going to get some sleep.”

      “Me too. I still have to talk with Caroline and let her know that I want to volunteer for the Sit-In Team. They’ll probably show up within the next few hours.”

      “Sounds good. Come on. I’ll walk you up to your new apartment. Oh, by the way, Brady’s your roommate, in case you haven’t figured that out already.” He chuckled as he got out of the car and slammed the door behind him. “He’s finishing up his surveillance setup.”

      “What was the chuckle for?” Jordan shot him a glare.

      “No chuckle.” He smiled down at her. “Brady’s been waiting his whole career to have a case like this. I’m wondering if he’ll even notice you’re there with all his electronics, slash stakeout, slash contingency supplies there.”

      She smiled up at him. “Go ahead and yuck it up. You won’t be when he saves your ass.”

      “Let’s hope that never happens. I’d never live it down.”

      On the ninth floor, Xander checked in with Brady and picked up the bug he needed to plant in his own apartment, promising to plant it as soon as he walked in the door.

      He was dead on his feet as he rode the musty-smelling elevator to the fourth floor.

      It was silent when he walked into the apartment. He expected Jaci to be in bed, sleeping, and was surprised to find the bed empty. The window shade was pulled down, darkening the room. A slit of artificial light escaped from underneath the bathroom door. He planted the bug underneath the lamp on her bedside table and settled himself at the dinette set, waiting for her to exit. After a while, he listened for movement inside the bathroom. He heard none. Another couple of minutes passed. Still nothing.

      Walking over to the bathroom door, he tapped lightly. “Jaci? Are you okay in there?” He waited, ear close to the door. No answer. He tried the knob. It was locked. He pounded with the side of his fist this time “Jaci. Open the door,” he shouted, trying to force back the feeling of dread that crept up his spine.

      Xander covered the three strides it took to get to the kitchen in seconds, and was back at the bathroom door, butter knife in hand, to unlock it.

      He swung the door open and found her sitting on the floor between the tub and toilet. She was in a paper clinic gown, with her bare legs tucked up in front of her and her head drooping forward.

      “Jaci?” He stepped in and lifted her chin so he could get a good look at her. She was an alarming shade of gray. An empty prescription bottle sat on the closed lid of the toilet.

      “Goddammit,” he yelled, as he fell to his knees, pulling her toward him, and then whirling her around until he held her upright, with her back to his chest, and his arm wrapped around her waist.

      “Brady,” he barked, loudly. “She’s OD’ing on painkillers.” He lifted the lid of the toilet, sending the pill bottle flying, and leaned her forward over the bowl. Her head bobbled on her neck as he stuck his fingers down her throat. The reflex was immediate as the contents of her stomach expelled into the bowl. A smattering of partially dissolved tablets plopped into the water, decorating the bottom of the bowl with light blue dots. He made her vomit again and again until nothing came up anymore. Then, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed.

      Xander laid her down and felt her neck at the carotid. Slow, lazy thumps surged underneath the pad of his finger. Her chest rose and fell in long labored breaths.

      He looked at her ashen face and the dusky circles under her eyes. His heart bloomed with the need to ease her anguish and protect her from the rest of the world. It was clear that the last twenty-four hours had destroyed her.

      Xander’s hand was on its way up to touch his ear bud to call Brady, when he walked through the apartment door, closing and locking it behind him. He dug through the bag he carried, finally pulling out a syringe. “Narcan,” he said, holding it up before popping the cover off the needle and injecting her. “That’s all I got in my bag of tricks.” He met Xander’s eyes. “I’m out of here, but I’ll be listening in case you need anything,” he said, turning around and walking back through the apartment door.

      He stood in the darkened room with his blood boiling. His chest heaved as he raked a hand through his hair and paced back and forth next to the bed.

      Then focusing on Jaci’s form, Xander brushed a lock of hair from her face. Her skin began to lose some of the deathly gray pallor it exhibited only a minute before. Already, she looked better. She was going to survive this.

      His panic dulled enough for other emotions to seep in. “Holy fucking hell. Dammit.” He stormed, knocking a chair over and kicking it across the room. Then, he sat heavily in the one remaining by the table, leaning over, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Air rushed savagely in and out of his lungs. He attempted to calm the fury he felt, taking long minutes to recover from the massive adrenaline surge.

      Finally somewhat calmed, he took a deep breath and looked up at Jaci’s unconscious body. This was his fault. He hadn’t been here. She didn’t know that she already had family here, had someone who cared about her, who would take care of her.

      Well, there was absolutely no chance she’d get the opportunity to do something like this again. She was going to see just how seriously he took his responsibility.

      Xander stripped down to his underwear and slid into the bed. He grasped Jaci’s wrist firmly. She wouldn’t be going anywhere without him knowing about it.

      Soon, the hens on the Sit-In Team would take over. And the leader of the hen parade, Caroline, would be trying to shoo him out. He grunted. Good luck with that.

       3

      She wasn’t dead.

      Disappointment settled, cold and painful, in the pit of Jaci’s stomach.

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