Hostage Negotiation. Lena Diaz

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СКАЧАТЬ He took a step toward her.

      She tensed, pushing back against her pillow.

      He immediately stopped and shot a glance at a dark-haired man in a gray suit standing on the left side of her bed. “Maybe we should get her doctor, Cole. We’re upsetting her. This is too much, too fast. She’s not ready.”

      Another man, at the foot of her bed, braced his hands on the metal railing. “We can’t wait, Chief Scott. For all we know, the man who abducted her is after another woman right now. Or he could be holding the other missing woman. We need answers.”

      “Abducted?” The word rasped past her dry lips. “I was abducted? You said there was an accident. I don’t understand.”

      The kind man, Zack, narrowed his eyes at the one who’d just spoken before looking at her. “You don’t remember what happened? The woods? The marsh?”

      She shook her head. Wait. No. No, no, no. She squeezed her eyes shut. The devil’s face swam in her vision, wide slits in the mask revealing dark, dead eyes. Except when he was hurting her. Then those eyes shined with an unholy light. She remembered something sharp, no, something hot, burning her back. Chains, ropes, her arms tied above her head. A box. Dark. Musty. The choking feel of him pressing her down, down. Oh, God. She covered her face with her hands.

      “You’re safe,” that deep, soothing voice whispered again, closer now. Not the devil’s voice. Zack’s voice.

      The man who’d saved her.

      “No one can hurt you here. You’re safe. You’re safe,” he whispered, over and over, as if he knew what she needed to hear in order to fight off the panic threatening to choke her.

      “Chief.” Even without looking, Kaylee recognized the impatience in the man’s voice as he spoke again from the foot of the bed. “I need to ask her questions. We don’t have time for—”

      “Make time,” her protector snapped. She heard him step closer to the bed. And this time it didn’t scare her. “You’re in a hospital,” he told her again. “You’re going to be okay. There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll all leave and give you time to—”

      “Chief Scott, that’s not—”

      “We’ll leave,” he repeated, cutting off the suit’s complaint, his voice firm. “We’ll come back and talk when she’s ready, not a moment before.”

      She shook her head and forced herself to pull her hands down from over her eyes. She didn’t want to be alone. Not again. When she was alone, he always found her—when she was awake, when she was asleep, in her nightmares. She looked at each of the people circling the bed. Strangers. All of them. She turned her head. But this man, the one on her right, the one with concern stamped in his expression, didn’t feel like a stranger—in spite of the power coiled inside those muscles, power that should have terrified her. Instead, he made her feel protected. Safe.

      And she hadn’t felt safe in a very long time.

      She clutched the bed railing. “Make them go. Make them go away... Zack...please.”

      Something flickered in his eyes. Surprise?

      He gave her a tight nod. “We’ll go. I’ll get the doctor.” He motioned to the others. The room began to empty and he started to follow everyone out. But as he passed her bed, she reached for him, her fingers clutching at his shirtsleeve. “Wait.”

      He exchanged a startled look with the one other man left in the room, the one who’d been standing on her left. He now stood in the doorway, holding the door open.

      “Yes?” Zack asked, his voice gentle, as soothing as she remembered when he’d knelt beside her on the road.

      Just hold on. I’ve got you.

      She tightened her hold on his shirt, half lifting off her pillow. Shame over her cowardice and fear made her face heat with embarrassment, but she still didn’t let him go. Couldn’t let him go. Panic welled inside her, making her feel as if she was about to jump out of her skin.

      “Please, stay. I’m...” Scared. More terrified of being shut in a room with a stranger than of being alone with my thoughts, my nightmares. “Please.” She searched his eyes, blue she realized. Kind eyes. Nothing at all like the cold, dark eyes of her captor. “Don’t leave me. Keep me safe.”

      Understanding dawned in his expression. He gently peeled her fingers from his sleeve and took her hand in his. But instead of closing his fingers around hers, he kept his hand beneath hers, palm up, so that she was holding his hand, not the other way around. He’d obviously done that to keep her from feeling trapped, as if she was in control. It was a small gesture, but it warmed her all the way to her soul.

      “I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” he assured her.

      Her breath shuddered out of her on a ragged sigh. “Thank you.”

      He lightly squeezed her hand in answer then glanced at the man still holding the door open. “Get her doctor, Cole.”

      Cole nodded and headed into the hallway.

      “My name is Kaylee,” she said, when he looked at her again. “Kaylee Brighton. I live in Miami.”

      “I know. We’ve contacted your parents. They arrived yesterday and sat with you all night. They only went back to their hotel a few hours ago to catch up on some sleep. Now that you’ve woken up, I’m sure they’ll be back here soon.”

      Joy filled her at his words. There had been times, many times, when she’d despaired of ever seeing her mother and father again. But then she frowned, thinking about what he’d said.

      “They sat with me all night?”

      He nodded.

      “How long...how long have I been here?”

      His look turned guarded.

      “I’m okay,” she assured him. “Don’t worry about upsetting me. How long?”

      “Cole, Collier County Detective Cole Larson, rode with me in the back of the ambulance that brought you here. That was yesterday morning. Except for a few minutes during the CT scan, you’ve been unconscious since then. You were sedated, to keep you still while they treated you. The doctor evaluated you again a little while ago and told us he thought that you’d be waking up soon. That’s why we were all in your room, so we could talk to you.”

      He checked the watch on his left wrist, a surprising thing to wear for someone his age—probably late twenties, early thirties. But maybe it was something that came in handy in his line of work—quicker to check a watch than to pull out a cell phone to see what time it was. Funny thing was, she liked to wear watches, too, even though she was younger than him. Go figure. But her own watch was gone. He’d taken it. The devil. She shuddered.

      “It’s six in the evening now,” he told her.

      “You said I was brought here in an ambulance. I don’t remember an ambulance.”

      “You fainted. You were unconscious.”

      “You called for help.”

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