She uncovered a secret someone will kill for...

But he’s determined she’ll survive

Reporting missing narcotics lands nurse Audrey Harris and her patients in the crosshairs of a ruthless thief. But when marine sergeant Julian Tan is one of the patients in danger, the criminals unwittingly provide her with a strong—and handsome—protector. On the run, Julian and Audrey must stop a crime boss...or become the next to fall.

KAREN KIRST was born and raised in east Tennessee near the Great Smoky Mountains. She’s a lifelong lover of books, but it wasn’t until after college that she had the grand idea to write one herself. Now she divides her time between being a wife, homeschooling mom and romance writer. Her favorite pastimes are reading, visiting tearooms and watching romantic comedies.

Also By Karen Kirst

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The Gift of Family

“Smoky Mountain Christmas”

His Mountain Miss

The Husband Hunt

Married by Christmas

From Boss to Bridegroom

The Bachelor’s Homecoming

Reclaiming His Past

The Sheriff’s Christmas Twins

Wed by Necessity

The Engagement Charade

A Lawman for Christmas

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Intensive Care Crisis

Karen Kirst

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09694-2

INTENSIVE CARE CRISIS

© 2019 Karen Vyskocil

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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The hair on Audrey’s arms stood to attention.

“Hello?”

Something hard and unyielding came up and over her head and pressed against her throat, cutting off her air supply. Silencing her. The scrubs slipped from her fingers. Reaching up, she gripped the stick. Can’t breathe.

She couldn’t dislodge it. He was immovable, her captor, his arms and chest forming a vise around her.

Dots danced in her vision. She struggled. Writhed. Kicked. Her lungs stretched to the bursting point.

Audrey reached up to claw at his face. If she could gouge his eyes—

He increased the pressure, consciousness ebbed.

Suddenly, shouts pierced the black cloud. The arms around her went slack.

Audrey swayed and fell to her knees. A scuffle ensued between her attacker and would-be rescuer. In the murky light, she recognized the stark white dressing on the second man’s arm.

He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be engaging a murderer in his condition, most likely the same man who tried to kill him mere days ago.

“Julian,” Audrey gasped.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for choosing to read this second book about US Marine Corps heroes. There’s a saying among authors that some books seem to write themselves. This happened to be one of them. From the beginning, Julian and Audrey proved to be fun, interesting characters to explore. I liked the idea of passing acquaintances whose paths might not ever cross, if not for extraordinary circumstances. I hope you enjoyed their story. Next up is Captain Brady Johnson.

Find more about my books at www.karenkirst.com. I’m also on Facebook and Twitter, @karenkirst. You can also email me at karenkirst@live.com.

Blessings,

Karen Kirst

But as for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good, to bring to pass, as it is this day, to save much people alive.

—Genesis 50:20

To my dear friend Rebecca Sardella. Your support and enthusiasm for my stories have been a great source of encouragement. Thank you.

Acknowledgments

A huge thank-you to Edelyn Bishop, RN, MSN, MBA. Your medical knowledge and input during this process were invaluable.

Thank you to my niece, Jessica Felker, RN, BSN. You were a great source of information, especially during the planning of this story.

Any mistakes were my own.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Introduction

Dear Reader

Bible Verse

Dedication

Acknowledgments

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

EPILOGUE

Extract

About the Publisher

ONE
Jacksonville, North Carolina

Someone was harming her patients.

Audrey Harris was determined not to let anything happen to the force-recon marine currently in her care. Not only was Sergeant Julian Tan her neighbor, but he was also in her father’s unit. Fortunately, the recovery room where she worked had only three patients this morning, and they weren’t scheduled to receive more until after lunch.

She reassessed the IV lines and inspected the dressing on his lower arm.

“My team,” he murmured, shifting restlessly beneath the thin sheet. “Have to reach them.”

Audrey winced. His team was gone, their deaths the result of a training exercise gone horribly wrong. Julian had escaped with several broken bones in his left arm and wrist. The first surgery—performed a month ago, at the time of the accident—had been a success, but he’d had an allergic reaction to the stitches. They’d had to go back in and replace them.

His head lifted from the starched pillowcase. “Where are they?” he demanded in a thick, slurred voice.

“You’ve had a surgical procedure and will feel groggy for a while. As soon as the anesthesia wears off, I’ll take you to post-op.” Typically, those nurses would retrieve him, but she wasn’t letting him out of her sight.

His eyes, shimmering like copper pennies in a fountain, narrowed in confusion. “I’m in the hospital? Where are the others?”

She’d been on shift when he’d been brought in with the marines who’d initially survived the helicopter crash. While she hadn’t been assigned to him, she remembered he’d responded poorly to anesthesia and woke disgruntled.

Audrey wished he didn’t have to relive the news of his fellow marines’ deaths. Coming around to the other side of the bed, she laid her hand on his shoulder.

“Julian, is the anti-nausea medicine I gave you working?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you feeling sick to your stomach?”

When he didn’t answer, she clicked off the overhead light. “Try and rest, okay?”

She started to move away. His uninjured hand clamped over her lower arm, preventing her from leaving.

“Who are you?”

The strength in his grip surprised her. Not because of his physique—he was hewn from steel, it seemed, his body the military’s version of a living weapon—but because he was still suffering the effects of powerful medication.

Audrey covered his large, calloused hand with her own, trying to reassure him with her touch. “Audrey Harris. We live in the same apartment complex.”

Julian’s face remained blank. Even fully alert, she doubted he’d remember her. He wasn’t the sort to flirt and make small talk, like some of the single male residents. When he wasn’t off saving the world, he went about his daily life with single-minded focus. She passed him sometimes on his way to the apartment’s gym and indoor pool.

The squeak of rubber soles on the polished tiles heralded her coworker’s arrival. “How’s our wounded warrior doing?”

Chasity Bateman’s sparse eyebrows lifted at the sight of their joined hands. Audrey separated herself from his hold and pulled aside her friend and fellow nurse.

“He’s out of sorts, and who can blame him?”

“Good thing he has a pretty nurse to distract him from his troubles.” Stray blond curls peeked out from her surgical cap.

“I don’t date patients.”

“You don’t date anyone. That’s the problem.”

Audrey glanced at the bed. His eyes were closed, his spiky lashes forming dark crescents against gold-dust skin. Julian Tan was a striking man. Short, sleek brown-black hair framed proud, angular features offset by a generous mouth. He was strong and handsome, but intense and private. In their one exchange, when her father had introduced them, she’d gotten the impression that few people were allowed into his personal circle.

“A handsome, intriguing guy like him could be the one to make you finally forget about Seth.”

Grief pinched her—less potently than in the past, which troubled her. “I can’t forget.”

Chasity nudged her. “There’s no crime in having a little fun. Seth wouldn’t begrudge you that.”

“Shouldn’t you be with your patients?”

The recovery area in their modest-size hospital consisted of a single, long room with beds lining both walls and an aisle in the middle. There were privacy curtains, but none were currently in use. Near the entry doors, two women occupied beds opposite each other. Both were quiet.

Too quiet?

“What happened last week was a fluke, you know,” Chasity said, picking up on her sudden anxiety.

Audrey tugged on the ID card hanging around her neck, then allowed it to snap back into place. “A fluke? Alex Shields had an allergic reaction that could’ve killed him. Wanda Ferrier came in for outpatient surgery but wound up staying five days because she was given the wrong dosage.” Her heart pounded with remembered dread. “Someone stole my log-in, Chasity, and deliberately set out to harm my patients.”

Her friend was unable to mask her skepticism. “I know it’s hard to accept that we’re capable of mistakes, but we all get busy and distracted.”

“This isn’t a case of simple carelessness. I’m being made to look incompetent.”

All because she’d done the right thing. In recent weeks, she’d noticed inconsistencies between the supply list and the actual supplies in their stockroom. More serious was her suspicion that an Onslow General employee was diverting narcotics and other medicines. She’d spoken to a handful of her coworkers in the surgical unit, but they hadn’t had useful information to share. So she’d taken her concerns to the charge nurse. Veronica “Iron Nurse” Mills had promised to look into the matter. That was when the mishaps started. Audrey could only conclude that the thief was attempting to discredit her.

The swish of a door interrupted their exchange, and in walked the taskmaster who ruled the department with an iron fist. Veronica was tall for a woman and of an indiscriminate age. Her brassy yellow hair was styled in fat sausage rolls reminiscent of a bygone era. She wore her uniforms starched and was never seen without her trademark fire-engine-red lipstick. Since Audrey’s transfer from the ICU to surgery eighteen months ago, she’d gotten the impression that Veronica disliked her more than anyone else. And since she was displeased by most everyone and everything, that was saying something.

Her broad nose pinched at the sight of them. “Heather’s gone home with a fever. You’ll have to spend the rest of your shift in pre-op, Chasity.”

Her friend cast Audrey a sideways glance, then inclined her head. “Of course.”

When the petite blonde had gone, Veronica’s gray gaze swept over the three occupied beds. “I trust you’ll be able to handle yourself?”

The underlying message was clear—no more mess-ups.

“Yes, ma’am.”

She sniffed. “See that you do.”

The next twenty minutes passed in a blur, as one of the female patients roused and promptly vomited. While Audrey was tending to her, the other woman’s vitals started fluctuating, calling for her to investigate the issue. She didn’t like that the hospital was understaffed. Typically, in the recovery area, each nurse was assigned to one patient. But HR had been slow in replacing the employees they’d lost. In recent months, two nurses had moved out of the area, one had quit to be a stay-at-home mom and yet another had accepted a different position in the hospital.

“Please, I need water.” The girl who’d gotten ill was perspiring.

Audrey looked down the aisle at Julian. Because of his history of responding poorly to anesthesia, Chasity had thought it best to place him apart from the others. He appeared to be resting comfortably.

She wouldn’t be gone long. Five minutes, tops. “I’ll get you some ice chips.”

“Thank you.” The patient gave her a weak smile.

In the hallway, an X-ray technician strode past, acknowledging her with a simple nod. David was a new hire. Quiet and introverted. Heather in pre-op had a crush on him. Something about his small, shifty eyes made Audrey think of him as stalker material.

She waited until the hallway was clear before hurrying to the room where they kept sodas and snacks for patients. There were three nurses in line ahead of her. Stifling a sigh, she experienced a rising tide of unease. It won’t happen again. It can’t. Not on my watch.

* * *

Julian was on the helicopter again. He felt it list sharply to the right. Saw the ground racing up to meet them. Heard the other guys’ warning shouts. Smelled the stench of gasoline and blood. Death was all around him, coming to claim him, too.

He jerked awake. Seconds passed before he could make sense of the stark white walls, the metal rails on the bed and the tube attached to his hand. He was in the hospital for an outpatient procedure. He wouldn’t be stuck here for days on end, like last time.

Movement registered in his peripheral vision. He turned his head. A doctor was pulling his privacy curtain closed, creating a small cocoon of blue-tinted shadows. The man didn’t introduce himself. Between the surgical cap and mask, only his eyes and eyebrows were visible. He gazed down at Julian with scalpel-sharp concentration.

“What’s the prognosis, Doc?” Julian said, his mind fuzzy and his stomach doing somersaults. He hated being put under.

There was no response to his question.

The snap and tug of latex grated on Julian’s nerves. Once the white gloves were in place, the doctor produced a syringe and needle and reached for his hand.

Something was wrong. He could feel it.

“What is that?”

Still silent, the man quickly inserted the needle into the port attached with tape to his hand. He injected the substance into the line.

“Where’s my nurse?”

What was her name? He could clearly picture her youthful face, her vivid blue eyes painted with disquiet. She was familiar to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint the connection.

After recapping the needle, the doctor stood and stared at him. Waiting.

Julian glanced around for a call button. There was none.

His heart began to pound. A cloud of pain spread through his chest. His lungs felt full of water. Couldn’t...breathe—

“You drugged me,” he sputtered, his words slurring.

A buzzing sounded in his ears. Black patches distorted his vision.

An alarm close to his bed began to go off. His blood pressure. Too high.

The man reached across and flipped a switch. Silence.

“Help—”

A gloved hand clapped over his mouth, preventing him from calling out.

He pushed at the man’s arm with his uninjured hand. The surgical meds, combined with the mystery drug he’d been given, left him weak. He couldn’t utilize his hand-to-hand combat skills if his body refused to cooperate.

Pray. Seek God’s help.

Dizziness washed over him.

God hadn’t heard him when their helo went down.

He was going to die, after all. Not a hero’s death.

Murdered by a stranger. For what reason?

Sweat poured off him. He thought of his parents and three younger sisters. And his team members’ loved ones, who viewed him as their last link to their fallen marines. And he thought about his nurse, whose name he couldn’t remember. She had compassionate eyes. She would take a patient’s death hard.

He tried again to dislodge the man’s hand.

A distant shout echoed down the room. The stranger ripped through the curtain and bolted for a set of doors.

Julian clawed at the IV tube and yelled for help.

Trying to draw breath into his lungs was an impossible chore, and his heart was spasming.

He had seconds left to live.

TWO

She was going to lose him.

The heart monitor flashed a red warning. Julian was unconscious and his chest wasn’t moving. No air was passing through his lips. The EKG strip showed a lethal rhythm, his heart in sustained V-tach.

Audrey called a code and dropped the bed to its lowest position. The mattress deflated to provide a hard surface. After tilting his head back, she placed her hands in the middle of his chest and began compressions.

Please, Lord Jesus, save him. If he dies, it will be my fault.

She counted in her head. Then, pinching his nose closed, she delivered rescue breaths.

Please, God...think of his family, his friends, his marines.

The code team raced in with the crash cart. She quickly told them about the intruder running free in the hospital, but there wasn’t time to guess what he might’ve done to Julian. Dr. Menendez ran the code, evaluating the patient and clipping out orders. Another nurse unsnapped Julian’s gown and positioned the pads on his chest while Audrey continued compressions. When the defibrillator level was set according to Menendez’s orders, she moved aside and watched the other nurse place the paddles and shock his body.

Her gaze glued to the monitor, she willed his heart to respond.

It didn’t.

She resumed CPR, putting her all into it. “Come on, Sergeant,” she urged. “Fight.”

“My turn,” the nurse told her when Audrey would’ve continued.

Julian’s body received another jolt of electrical current. Time seemed to stretch into eternity as Audrey waited for his rhythm to settle.

Dr. Menendez’s voice cut through her preoccupation, ordering her to administer amiodarone.

She didn’t immediately move. Her attention bounced between Julian’s face and the monitor. Come on. Please—

His heart rate slowed. “Yes, that’s it,” Audrey murmured.

“Harris,” the doctor snapped.

Audrey leaped toward the crash cart and the medications stored there. By the time the team got him stabilized and left, she was shaking. She lingered by his bedside, reassured by his restored color and the rise and fall of his chest.

Chasity walked over, her eyes troubled. Although needed in pre-op, Veronica had ordered she return until Julian left the recovery area. “He’s going to be moved upstairs.”

“I expected as much.”

Because of his cardiac arrest, they would want to keep him under observation for a couple of days. Audrey wouldn’t be able to watch over him. Maybe it was better to keep her distance, anyway. Maybe he’d be safe as long as he stayed far away from her.

She turned, and her sneaker nudged something. She crouched and, peeking beneath the bed, found a syringe. It wasn’t hers. She’d discarded the one she’d used in the sharps container.

“Chasity, get Veronica.”

“What’s wrong?”

Pulling a single glove from the box on the counter, she used it to gingerly pick up the syringe. “Tell her we need the police.” At her friend’s confused look, she said, “Tell her I’ve found evidence the intruder left behind.”

With this in their possession, they could identify the substance he’d injected into Julian and dust for fingerprints that could end this crime spree before anyone else got hurt.

* * *

Julian had had enough of hospitals. He was supposed to have gone in and gotten out in a matter of hours. Because of the incident that had nearly killed him, he’d been forced to stay longer than originally planned. Answers had proven elusive, thanks to tight-lipped administrators. He knew they were closing ranks in case he decided to pursue legal action.

At least he was home, finally, with his own bed and his own television and utter privacy.

Fitting another puzzle piece in place, he flexed the fingers of his injured hand and ground his teeth together. Two days after his procedure, the pain was dull and throbbing. Sinking against the soft leather chair, he stared at the calendar pinned to the corkboard above his desk. The serene beach photograph of Oahu’s Lanikai Beach didn’t distract him from the red lines slashing out every February day he’d missed work. Eight days gone. The entire month of January had been a wash.

Rolling the chair back, he stood and stalked to the apartment’s compact kitchen and perused the fridge’s meager contents. His appetite hadn’t returned, and he wasn’t interested in the assorted yogurts or chicken salad of indeterminable dates.

The doorbell chimed. Probably one of his buddies coming to cheer him up. That seemed to be the goal these days—distract Julian from the accident, remind him that he shouldn’t feel guilty. His frustration building, he swung the door open and promptly forgot the words he’d been formulating.

“You.” He stared at the fresh-faced brunette in his doorway. “You were at the hospital. You were my nurse.”

She wiped her palms on the outside of her blue scrubs. “I’m Audrey Harris. I’m—”

“Gunny’s daughter.”

Julian used the door to support his weight, confusion setting in. Hers was the face dominating his memories. In fact, the expression of deep disquiet she wore now matched what he remembered of her. But was it real? Because it wasn’t uncommon for him to see her around the complex. He’d been introduced to her while in a hospital bed, the first time he’d been admitted. His superior, Gunnery Sergeant Trent Harris, was infinitely proud of his only child. Protective, too. While Harris had been happy to introduce her to one of his marines, there was no question he expected Julian to keep his distance.

“You remember me?” Edging closer to the door frame to let a young mom with a baby on her hip pass, Audrey’s big blue eyes clouded. “I didn’t think you would.”

He noted how expressive her eyes were, how clear and unguarded. In fact, her entire face was a billboard advertisement for her feelings. Currently, worry creased her forehead and weighted her full, pink lips into a frown.

“Did Gunny send you?”

“No. I came to your hospital room thinking you might like a break from cafeteria food.” She lifted a brown paper bag. “I didn’t know you’d been discharged this afternoon.”

“What is that?”

“Soup. Two kinds, since I don’t know your preferences.”

“You brought me soup.”

Why would she do that? He was technically a stranger. Unless... Was her conscience bothering her? Was she the reason he’d coded?

“Your choice of chicken noodle or vegetable beef.”

He didn’t feel like company, but his mom had preached the importance of good manners. Besides, he might be able to pry some answers from Audrey Harris.

“Why don’t you come inside?”

As she stepped past him, her sweet scent struck him as both exotic and familiar, not quite citrusy yet not floral, either. He couldn’t place it and ceased trying. The pleasure he used to find in sorting out details and mulling over conundrums eluded him now.

The nurse stopped beside his desk. She was tall and svelte. He’d seen her jogging in the park and participating in their complex’s organized sports.

Her wide gaze soaked in the leather furniture, big-screen television, lava lamp and hermit crab tank. She zeroed in on the map of his home state framed above the couch.

“You’re from Hawaii?”

He closed the door and stifled a sigh. He’d struggled to make small talk with friends recently, much less strangers. “Born in New York. My father’s Chinese. Mom’s American. We moved to Oahu when I was eight.”

“Must’ve been wonderful to grow up in paradise.”

“It has its perks.” There were downsides, too, like any other place. Expensive rent. Traffic jams.

She studied the surfboard propped in the corner.

“You surf?” he asked, not really interested.

“I never learned. I preferred to play beach volleyball.”

“There are plenty of people willing to teach you.” At the sudden question in her eyes, he added, “For a fee. Ask the local shops.”

“Maybe,” she said, noncommittal.

Julian crossed to her. She had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. Her thick waves were restrained by an elastic band. He had the inane thought that he’d never seen her hair down and wondered how long it was.

She thrust the sack at him. “I, um, hope you like at least one of them.”

He accepted the offering, set it on the counter and leaned against a bar stool. “Mahalo.”

“How’s your pain level?” She gestured to the gauze encasing his arm and wrist. “Are you taking the prescribed antibiotics?”

“It’s tolerable. And yes, Nurse Harris, I’m following orders. You could say I’ve grown accustomed to that.”

“Right.” Her gaze swept the length of him, taking in his marine-issued green T-shirt, black pants and socks. This wasn’t a flirtatious or interested inspection. Audrey Harris was worried about him. Or worried about her job?

“You were there when I went into cardiac arrest, weren’t you?”

Startled by the abrupt question, she sagged against his desk, her hip perilously close to the puzzle he’d been laboring over for weeks.

“What happened in the recovery room, Audrey?” he asked. “Why is it that, more than thirty-six hours after I was supposed to have had a routine procedure and discharge, I still don’t have answers?”

“I can’t say,” she whispered.

He resisted the urge to use his physical stature to intimidate her. His goal wasn’t to frighten her. “Did you make a mistake?” He kept his tone casual. “Did you give me the wrong medicine?”

There. A telltale flicker of guilt. “No.”

Unable to contain his impatience, he straightened and took a single step toward her. “I almost died thanks to hospital error. I deserve to know the truth.”

“It wasn’t hospital error,” she blurted, popping up from the desk.

“Oh?”

“Someone masquerading as hospital staff entered recovery and administered a lethal dose of epinephrine.”

“What?”

“We don’t know his identity. The police weren’t able to get fingerprints off the syringe. They’re combing through security footage, but there are many areas of the building that aren’t covered.” Her dark brows snapped together. “I’m sorry, Julian.”

Vague memories of a man wearing a surgical mask emerged. He hadn’t spoken, but the intent in his eyes had unsettled Julian. He’d worn latex gloves and had a short ponytail.

“I saw him.”

“You did? What does he look like? If you can give a description—”

“His face was obscured. The curtain was drawn and the light behind my bed turned off.”

“I turned it off so you could rest,” she admitted, biting her lip.

He paced to the window. There wasn’t much activity in the parking lot below or the public park bordering their Jacksonville complex. This was the dinner hour, when people would be sharing meals with their families. He ignored the pang of loneliness. What right did he have to feel lonely? His team members, his brothers—Paulson, Akins, Rossello and Cook—didn’t have the luxury.

“I don’t have enemies.” His adversaries inhabited foreign soil. They didn’t know him by name. They only knew his organization—United States Marine Corps Force Reconnaissance. “This can’t be connected to me.”

“I should go. I’ve already said too much.”

Her shoulders were hunched and her mouth pinched. She was hiding something. Blocking her exit, he said, “Where were you when the intruder got to me?”

The color drained from her face. “I had another patient. She was ill. I stepped out to get her a cup of ice.” Her lashes swept down. “When I returned, I saw the curtain drawn. I saw his outline. I tried to stop him and would’ve gone after him, but you’d gone into V-tach. I had to begin CPR at once—”

“You saved my life?” Julian attempted to picture her springing into heroine mode. She hadn’t caused his brush with death. She’d kept him from succumbing to it.

“I did what I was trained to do.”

He recognized the refusal to take credit. Audrey Harris, RN, didn’t view her job as extraordinary. Sometimes force-recon marines got their names in the paper or received medals from government officials. Like Audrey, Julian had been trained for specific tasks and taught to react to emergencies. He didn’t think of himself as special because of it.

Her phone beeped. She took it from her pocket and, reading the screen, frowned. “I have to go.”

“I have more questions.”

“I’m in apartment 478, on the other side of the elevators and vending machines. If you have any questions regarding your recovery, come by anytime.”

The emergence of stubborn resolve surprised him. He hadn’t seen past the very real apprehension cloaking her. But she was the daughter of a career marine. What had he expected? A wilting flower?

Deliberately stepping around him, she reached for the doorknob.

“You should know I don’t give up easily,” he said.

Audrey paused. “Get some rest, Sergeant Tan.”

In other words, focus on complete healing instead of pursuing this mystery.

When she’d left, he returned to his puzzle but had trouble concentrating. Audrey knew more than she was willing to share. Was she worried about compromising her position at the hospital? Or was it something far more serious?

Either way, he was determined to discover the truth.

THREE

Audrey tugged at the wet material clinging to her skin and grimaced. Her foot had gotten caught on the hospital bed wheel, and she’d stumbled, spilling apple juice down her front. If it had been water, she would’ve let it air-dry. But the juice would start to smell foul. And it was sticky.

She headed for the door. “I’m going to get a new set of scrubs from supply.”

Veronica, who’d hovered like a thundercloud since the incident, looked up from her handheld device. Her garish red lips formed a disgruntled slash. “Hurry up.” She tilted her head at the unoccupied beds. “Our ten o’clock knee replacement is almost done.”

In the hallway, she removed her cap and tucked it in her pocket. She readjusted the band holding her hair in place as she navigated the brightly lit hall. A security guard passed and nodded in greeting. There hadn’t been any more problems with her patients, for which she was grateful. Almost losing Julian had rattled her. He didn’t play a role in her life, but there was something about the stoic marine that touched a chord inside. Maybe it was the fact he’d ignored his own safety to pull the others out of that wrecked helicopter.

His striking looks had nothing to do with it, she reassured herself. Neither did his brooding demeanor or the loneliness and grief he tried to hide from the world.

Pushing thoughts of the sergeant from her mind, she left the surgical unit, passed through the central lobby area and entered a stairwell that would take her down to the basement level. Their unit’s supply room had run out of space months ago. Until they could rearrange stock or create more storage, overflow was located in a secondary area that didn’t see much traffic.

Muted orange-yellow light spilled down the concrete stairs, drawing attention to gouges in the cement walls and the stair rail’s peeling paint. At the bottom, she shouldered open the heavy door. A vinegary odor emanating from the basement labs greeted her in the narrow hallway. She didn’t pass a single person as she followed the worn, cracked tiles to the room at the end. Inside, she flipped the switch. Only about half of the overhead lights flickered on, leaving much of the high shelving systems in shadow.

“Great,” she muttered. With no windows to admit natural light, it was going to take time to dig through the scrubs to find her size.

She wove through the network of short aisles to reach the rear wall. Rounding the last section, Audrey nearly jumped out of her skin when a loud crash clattered right behind her. Her hand pressed to her thrumming heart, she pivoted and saw that her foot had dislodged a mop propped against the wall. Crouching down, she grabbed the wooden handle off the hard tiles and set it right again.

Another sound reached her, then...the grinding of sand beneath a rubber shoe sole.

The hair on her arms stood at attention. Audrey did a complete turn in the tight passage, between wooden shelves and a painted block wall.

“Hello?”

The thought of the person who’d invaded the recovery room flashed in her mind. Had the thief decided his current methods weren’t working? After all, she hadn’t quit. Hadn’t been fired. Hadn’t remained silent.

Had he switched targets?

Audrey remained frozen for long minutes, her ears straining for out-of-place clues that she wasn’t alone. There was nothing. Hurrying to the stacks, she sorted through shirts and pants for her size, too distracted to worry about tidying up after herself.

“There. Done.”

A presence registered behind her before she could turn around to leave. Measured breathing. The rustle of clothing.

Adrenaline charged through her system too late. Something hard and unyielding came up and over her head and pressed against her throat, cutting off her air supply. Silencing her.

The scrubs slipped from her fingers. Reaching up, she gripped the stick. Can’t breathe.

She couldn’t dislodge it. He was immovable, her captor, his arms and chest forming a vise around her.

Dots danced in her vision. She struggled. Writhed. Kicked. Her lungs stretched to the bursting point.

Audrey reached up to claw at his face. If she could gouge his eyes—

He increased the pressure. Pain was a scream lodged in her throat.

As consciousness ebbed, thoughts of her dad filled her with sadness. The loss of Audrey’s mother had almost destroyed him. What would burying his only child do?

Her body was growing limp. She was out of time.

A tear dripped down her cheek.

Shouts pierced the black cloud. Suddenly, the arms around her went slack. He let the mop fall and spun away from her.

Audrey swayed and fell to her knees. A scuffle ensued between her attacker and would-be rescuer. In the murky light, she recognized the stark white dressing on the second man’s arm.

“Julian,” she gasped.

He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be confronting an attacker in his condition, most likely the same man who tried to kill him mere days ago.

Julian blocked the other man’s fist with his good arm, and then used his leg to land a forceful kick to his opponent’s gut. When the man’s body glanced off the shelf, Julian tackled him. The pair hit the floor in a blur of blows and deflections, their grunts loud in her ears.

Her attacker was clad in black. A ski mask obscured his face. His greater bulk made him a fearsome foe. However, he was less agile than the marine. Julian quickly gained control of the situation. He pinned the man on his stomach and wedged his knee against his spine.

After removing a pistol tucked beneath the man’s suitcoat, he cast a searching glance in her direction. “You okay?”

Audrey belatedly realized she was still on the floor. She pushed to her feet and prayed her legs would hold her.

“I’m good.” Her throat ached, and her head throbbed with the stirrings of a headache, but she was alive. Thanks to him.

Her relief was short-lived. In a burst of energy, her attacker leveraged himself up, slamming his head into Julian’s. His beefy arm swung wildly and connected with Julian’s cheek. The double blows dazed him long enough for the masked man to get up and flee.

* * *

Julian’s gaze kept returning to the angry welts that marred Audrey’s delicate skin. He didn’t want to contemplate the possible outcome of this morning’s attack if he hadn’t come for a post-op checkup and spotted her passing the gift shop. He hadn’t planned to pester her with his questions, since she was on duty. But then he’d seen the goon in a dress suit enter the stairwell, and he’d decided to follow his instincts. The goon hadn’t been wearing the ski mask in the general area of the hospital, but Julian hadn’t gotten a clear view of his face.

He eased the tissue from his cheek and tossed it in the bin. The cut wasn’t deep. Still, it irked him. Weeks of desk duty had made him soft. If this had happened before January, he’d have subdued that guy and not suffered a single bruise. He wouldn’t have let himself be distracted by a pretty woman, either.

Julian inwardly cringed at his stupidity. The guys would have a hearty laugh over this one—

No, they wouldn’t. Because they were dead. Paulson, Akins, Rossello, Cook. Upstanding, honorable men. The best of the best.

Suppressing a tide of grief, he refocused on Audrey. Instantly, he knew she needed a break from the repetitive—and at this stage, pointless—questions.

Pushing off the wall, he stalked to where she perched on the edge of a hard, plastic seat. Her head was bowed.

“We’re done here,” Julian stated.

Both Audrey and the security member gaped at him.

“We need more information—”

“No, you don’t. There’s nothing more to tell.” Worried about her enlarged pupils and ashen complexion, he held out his hand. “Come with me, Audrey.”

Placing her trembling hand in his, she allowed him to lead her out of the office. He ushered her to the nearest exit, which emptied into a courtyard with massive plant pots and a koi pond in one corner. The early morning air had a crisp bite to it. Good, because she needed to cool off physically and emotionally.

She sat on the bench he indicated and stared at nothing. Julian crouched in front of her.

He touched her knee. “Can I get you a soda? Coffee?”

Clasping her hands tightly in lap, she shook her head. The elastic band holding her hair was about to slip free.

“You, um—” He leaned forward and gingerly removed the blue band, registering the sensation of her silky hair against his skin. Her alluring, summery scent washed over him. Again, he had a strong recollection of something tied to his childhood. “Here you go.”

She closed her hand over the band. Her shiny tresses spilled past her shoulders, tumbling waves of rich sable.

“What about a cherry slushy?” he said. “The cafeteria might have one.”

Her lips parted. “How do you know about that?”

“Don’t freak out. I’ve shared a few elevator rides with you. More often than not, you have a slushy from the gas station, and cherry has a distinctive color.”

When she continued to stare at him with that arrested expression, he moved to sit beside her. “Look, I’m trained to notice details. In some instances, it can lead to capturing a terrorist or preventing an attack. In others, it means I know what my neighbors like to drink after a long shift. That’s not a habit I can turn off when I’m out of uniform.”

Sighing, she swept her hair behind her shoulder. “I have a weakness for cherry-flavored Jolly Ranchers, too.”

He felt a smile forming. “Good to know.”

She studied his cheek before cutting a glance at his arm. “Please tell me you didn’t reinjure your arm.”

“I didn’t reinjure my arm.”

Her eyes darkened. “You saved me.”

“I was in the right place at the right time.”

“I thank God for it.”

“What’s going on, Audrey?”

She bit her lip and shrugged. He was tempted to walk away. He’d suffered no lasting effects from his ordeal, and Audrey Harris was none of his concern. The one thing stopping him from escorting her back to security was the thought of his younger sisters. If any one of them was facing a threat and he wasn’t around to help, he’d want someone to step up to the plate.

Plus, she’d saved his life. So what if he’d done the same for her? He didn’t believe in calling things even. He owed her a debt of gratitude that couldn’t be repaid.

He tried again. “You can’t tell me these attacks aren’t connected.”

Indecision played out across her face. Her knuckles went white.

“I couldn’t help my team,” he said quietly. “But maybe I can help you.”

Her surprise mirrored his own. Why had he said that? He didn’t like thinking about what had happened, much less put it into words.

“There’s a thief in the hospital,” she said in a rush. “Someone’s been taking partially used ampules of narcotics to feed their addiction. They might also be watering down patient doses and taking the rest for themselves. I’m not sure.”

Actions with serious, perhaps even fatal, consequences. “You told your supervisor?”

“And some of my coworkers. Soon after, there were issues with my patients. Nothing life-threatening until you.” Her expression turned bleak. “This person must have a terrible addiction to feed.”

Julian sagged against the bench. The average drug user wouldn’t go to such extreme lengths to quell an investigation. It seemed to him that Audrey had gotten herself into something far more sinister. But what?

“Does your father know?”

She bolted to her feet and stared down at him. “He knows nothing, and that’s the way it stays.”

“I’ve served under him for more than a year. Gunny is a private man, but I have learned several things. Laziness and carelessness are his top pet peeves. He hates surprises. Can’t function on less than four cups of coffee a day, and he believes his only daughter hung the moon.”

“If my dad found out, he’d try to force me to quit. He still sees me as a helpless little girl.” Worry pinched her mouth. “Please don’t tell him.”

“You’re putting me in an untenable position. You know that, right?”

“I can handle this on my own.”

“Really?” He stood up. This close, he could see the contrast between her irises’ navy outer ring and the azure blue interior. Like the varying shades of the Pacific surrounding his island home. “What’s your plan?”

She licked her lips. “First off, I won’t be going into the supply room alone.” When he didn’t comment, she continued. “I’ll be extra vigilant, both here and outside the hospital.”

“You think this will go away on its own.”

“That’s what I’m praying will happen.”

Prayer hadn’t made a single difference when that helo went down. He’d begged God to let his team live. His pleas had been in vain.

She spoke again, temporarily halting his descent into bitterness. “You’re a good listener, Sergeant Tan. I thank you for that. Now I’m asking you to respect my decision not to involve my dad.”

“I won’t volunteer the information.”

At his unspoken warning, she frowned. “And you won’t give him any reason to ask questions, I hope.”

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her, Julian spotted a male nurse headed for the courtyard. He burst outside in a cloud of anger. “Veronica said to go home, Audrey.”

“Home? I don’t finish until seven.”

The veins bulged at his temple. Older than Audrey by about a decade, the man looked like he led a rough life. Bloodshot eyes, reddened nose, sallow complexion. His head was shaved to call less attention to his bald spot. He was thin to the point of gauntness.

“I’ll have to work alone this shift,” he spat, dismissing Julian with a sneer. “You need to get your act together. If you don’t, I’m going to Mr. Harper.”

The door slammed behind him. Audrey had grown pale again.

“One of your coworkers?”

“Frank Russo.”

“And Mr. Harper? Who’s he?”

“Hospital president.”

He didn’t know her well enough to assume that she was innocent, but he’d developed keen instincts when it came to a person’s character. His gut said she was the sort of girl who put a high priority on others’ comfort. Otherwise, why choose a career that held zero glamour and demanded she give her all to the well-being of strangers?

“You’ve done nothing wrong, Audrey.”

Her mouth twisted. “Problem is, I can’t prove it.”

* * *

Not convinced leaving her alone was a good idea, Julian accompanied her to the cafeteria. As they didn’t have a slushy machine, she settled for coffee. He watched as she doctored it.

“I’ll follow you home when you’re ready,” he said.

“I’m going upstairs to speak with Veronica.” She took a small sip to taste and added another packet of sugar. “There’s no reason why I shouldn’t work today.”

While her color had returned to normal and the welt across her throat looked less angry, she was jumpy, as her gaze performed frequent sweeps of the room.

“Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“I want you to have my number, just in case.”

“That’s not necessary.” At the register, she swiped her employee ID and thanked the cashier.

“I insist.”

She reluctantly did as he asked. When he’d finished inputting the information, she tucked it back into her pocket. “I don’t plan on calling you.”

“I hope you don’t have to.”

“I know why you’re doing this.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Because of my dad. And because you have a warrior mind-set. You see a problem, you fix it. You see someone in trouble, you make it your business to help. Like you said before, you don’t know how to turn off the marine and be a regular guy.”

All those things may be true, but he suspected there was more to his drive to help her. There was something different about her, an elusive quality that intrigued him. He didn’t want to be intrigued. Didn’t want to notice her compassionate eyes, her cute nose or kind mouth. He certainly didn’t want to catch her looking at him like he was that word the newspapers had thrown around. He wasn’t a hero.

“Speaking of problems, we’re about to have one.”

She glanced over her shoulder to the main set of double doors and gasped. “What is he doing here?”

Trent Harris strode into the dining area alongside a male friend. They were deep in conversation and hadn’t spotted them yet. Although out of uniform, Trent had the military look, his silver hair buzzed short and his physique honed from years of service. He exuded an undeniable air of authority.

“I forgot Dad meets with some of the board of directors this time of year to plan the annual charity golf tournament. I can’t let him see me like this,” she said, gesturing to her neck. “I’ll slip out the side exit.”

“Audrey—”

“Please, he has enough to worry about with work. All those men lost...he’s taking it hard. Maybe not as hard as you are—” She broke off, her eyes pleading with him. “I can’t burden him with this. Not now.”

Julian didn’t agree, but what say did he have in her choices? “Fine. Go.”

“Thank you.” She dodged tables and garbage receptacles and rushed out the door. He was watching her retreating form through the large windows separating the cafeteria and hallway when his superior approached.

“Sergeant Tan.” His eyes—the same bold hue as his daughter’s—gleamed with speculation. “What are you doing here?”

Harris’s friend continued into the food service area. “I had a post-op checkup.”

One broad eyebrow arched in silent question.

“It’s healing on schedule. I’ll report for work Monday.” Not for his usual duties, he thought bitterly. They’d planted him at an admin desk until the unit doctor decided to return him to full duty or trot him before a medical board for retirement consideration. Before the accident, he would’ve prayed for God to restore the career he loved. He didn’t bother now.

“If you need more sick time, call Staff Sergeant Webb.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Now, why don’t you explain to me what you were doing with my daughter?”

Julian controlled his reaction. He’d begun to think Harris hadn’t seen her. “Audrey was getting coffee, sir. We talked.”

“About?”

None of your business, he wanted to say. But he respected the man. Julian would go so far as to say he admired him. “My recovery. Your daughter is very conscientious.”

“Hmm.”

He stifled the urge to squirm beneath the stare that would have lesser men spilling all their secrets. “Looks like your friend has his food. I’ll see you in the office.”

“Tan.”

The single word had the effect of a snapped whip. Julian stopped short.

“I like you, but I’m envisioning a quiet, stable life for my daughter. I’m hoping I’ll get a doctor or lawyer for a son-in-law.”

“I understand, sir.” Marines need not apply, especially force-recon marines. They had a reputation for being rougher and wilder than the rest. Not that Julian had done anything to earn such a reputation. “I have no intention of dating Audrey.”

He nodded, seemingly appeased. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Julian left the hospital feeling dissatisfied. Thoughts of Audrey trailed him the rest of the day. He had a feeling this wasn’t over. But Harris had warned him off, and the woman herself didn’t want his help or protection.

He didn’t need the distraction, anyway. Getting his old life back had to be his main focus.

FOUR

Her apartment door was ajar.

The mental and physical exhaustion that had rendered her almost dizzy during the drive home was instantly forgotten as she touched her fingertips to the black painted wood. She’d locked it this morning. She always locked it. Thanks to her dad’s infamous lectures, “safety” could be her middle name.

Audrey bent to examine the knob and doorjamb and didn’t see any obvious damage. But then, anyone wanting to get in without alerting the neighbors could’ve used something as simple as a credit card. Her throat ached as memories of the storage-room attack pressed in. Had it only been a matter of hours since a stranger had attempted to murder her? She stared at the door, a tsunami of uncertainty building inside. Had he discovered her home address and decided to try again when she was alone and there was less chance of interference?

The urge to run to Julian’s apartment was strong. She’d insisted she wouldn’t call him. She hadn’t said anything about not pounding on his door.

The slim chance that a maintenance man had made an unscheduled visit kept her in place.

Taking a steadying breath, she pushed the door inward and was granted an unobstructed view of the entryway and short hallway that emptied into the dining nook. Her knees threatened to buckle. Late evening sun slanted through the patio doors, glinting on bits of glass and broken picture frames. Shoes formed haphazard piles on the linoleum—they’d been yanked out of the storage cubicle tucked against the wall.

Audrey didn’t pause to consider her options. Spinning on her heel, she jogged down the hall, half-expecting to be ambushed from behind.

She pounded on Julian’s door. From this distance, she couldn’t see her apartment. Her assailant could use the opportunity to slip out undetected. Or he could still be hiding in her closet, behind her shower curtain or beneath her bed...

The door swung open, revealing a sleep-tousled marine. At the sight of her, he snapped to attention. “Audrey.”

“I woke you, didn’t I? I promised not to bother you with my problems, but my door was open and my stuff is everywhere—”

She broke off when he left her in the doorway and disappeared into what she assumed was his bedroom. When he returned, he had a sleek black gun in his grip and there was no trace of fatigue in his hardened face. He didn’t spare her a glance as he strode past her into the hall. This, she realized, was a force-recon marine in action, focus narrowed on the potential threat.

Audrey followed, her gaze glued to the surf-shop insignia stretched across his broad, muscular back. Reservations kicked in. What was she thinking? Mere days ago he’d hovered near death. She’d fought to keep him alive, and now she was sending him straight into danger.

He was about to cross the threshold when she spoke. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. I should contact the police.”

Julian held a finger to his lips and continued into her apartment, sweeping the rooms one by one. The sight of her home in chaos, and the knowledge that a stranger had invaded her space and touched her things, made her feel sick and violated. It didn’t help that Julian was seeing her life laid bare.

Returning to the living room, he tucked the gun into his waistband. “He’s gone.”

Audrey bent to retrieve a crumpled photograph of herself and Seth off the floor. The image was one of her favorites, taken at a local shrimp festival, where they’d eaten their weight in fried shrimp and hush puppies and lounged on the riverbank listening to live bands. A month later, a cancer diagnosis had upended their innocent world.

Julian’s fingertips grazed her arm. “You shouldn’t touch anything. Not until the police have dusted for prints.”

There were questions in his eyes that she was thankful he didn’t put a voice to. The lump in her throat grew, and she nodded mutely. While he called the police and gave a brief report, she wandered through the rooms again, impatient to restore order and erase the evidence of the intrusion.

He rejoined her in the kitchen, frowning at the swirl of ground spices on the countertops and pots and pans on the tiles. “A unit is en route. They’ll want to know if anything’s missing.”

A gasp ripped from her lips. How could she have forgotten?

Brushing past him, she hurried to her bedroom and, dropping to her knees in the closet, reached for the decorative boxes shoved in the corner. They weren’t in a neat stack anymore.

Her heart sank. He’d found her hiding place.

“Audrey?”

“My journal.” She frantically rifled through the contents discarded on the thick carpet. “It’s not here. He took it.”

Moving closer to crouch beside her, he rested his hand on her shoulder. The connection grounded her. Kept her from flying apart. “What’s in the journal?”

She ended her futile search and twisted to meet his gaze.

“Evidence.”

* * *

Julian stood between the entertainment center and couch, out of the way but within reach should Audrey need him. He watched her speak with the Jacksonville police officers—one young male and a thirtyish female—while the crime-scene guys dusted for prints. She’d had a nightmare of a day, yet she exuded admirable composure. Still in her scrubs, her glossy hair in an intricate braid, she stood with her sneakers far apart and her arms folded over her chest. Her tone was even, her words succinct. Only her eyes bore witness of her distress.

For a second there on the closet floor, he’d nearly given in to the need to fold her in his arms and comfort her. He’d stifled it. Audrey hadn’t reached out to him for emotional support. He wasn’t sure he could manage to shoulder anyone else’s hurt. It was taking all his energy to contain his own.

The male officer looked up from his handheld device. “This journal of yours? What information does it contain?”

“Dates. Patient names.” She tugged on her hospital ID. “I detailed each and every instance of missing supplies and narcotics, as well as the wrongly administered medications and patient reactions.”

“Did you keep a second copy on your laptop or flash drive?”

She glanced at her ruined laptop, smashed on the floor. Her rose-tinted mouth dipped into a grimace. “I didn’t think to. I should have. I didn’t imagine it would progress to this...”

The officers exchanged a significant glance. The journal was likely already destroyed, and without an electronic copy, her claims couldn’t be substantiated.

“We’re going to speak to the residents on this floor. Someone might’ve seen something suspicious or heard unusual noises. We’ll also go over the building’s security-camera footage.”

They left soon after, along with the crime-scene officers, and promised to reach out if they discovered anything useful.

He joined her in the entryway. “I’d like to help clean up. I can work in the kitchen and bathrooms.” The least personal spaces, which he expected she’d prefer.

“I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Avoiding his gaze, she started pairing shoes and sliding them into the cubicle slots.

“My calendar’s swiped clean these days.” His choice. “You’ll be saving me from bingeing on home-decorating shows.”

Lifting her head, she stared at him.

“Trust me,” he said, “I know all I need to know about accent walls and upcycling.”

Her lips lifted in a semblance of a smile. “You sure about that? There’s usually a new style concept waiting to be sprung on the masses.”

He picked up a delicate high-heeled sandal and handed it to her. “I’m sure.”

After he helped her finish the shoes, they worked in separate areas. As he organized her kitchen cabinets, his thoughts drifted to that photo. Who was the young man who’d had his arm slung proudly around Audrey’s shoulders? Where was he now?

It’s none of your business, Tan.

He had no personal interest in Gunny’s daughter. He had no interest in romance, period. On occasion, he’d ask out a girl for a casual day of surfing or sailing, but he made it clear up front that he wasn’t looking for commitment. He’d already disappointed his father with his decision to forego college and enlist in the US Marine Corps. Trying and failing at the sacred institution of marriage would further damage Chin Tan’s opinion of his only son. Military marriages faced myriad challenges. When clandestine, dangerous missions were the norm, a husband and wife had to have a steel-tight bond to weather daily life.

Shaking his head at the direction of his thoughts, he refocused on the task at hand and moved to the guest bathroom. After more than an hour of cleaning, Audrey’s apartment held no signs of the break-in. A different layout than his, the space was feminine and breezy without being cluttered. Her sense of humor showed in her choice of wall art, which mostly consisted of whimsical animal paintings in vibrant colors. Unlike him, she’d taken the time to hang curtains and assemble pillows and rugs. He liked her style.

His stomach rumbled, and she heard it.

“I haven’t had a chance to shop for groceries, or I’d offer to cook supper.” Pulling off her ID, she dropped it into a ceramic fish-shaped dish. “How about I order takeout? Do you like Italian food? There’s a new place down the street.”

He was tempted. If they shared a meal, he’d have the chance to ask questions, to glean insight into her personality. That was the reason he had to say no. While her outward beauty attracted him, her innate kindness and sweetness of spirit appealed to his soul. Dangerous territory. Didn’t take long in his line of work to become hard and cynical. Digging in to God’s Word with a trusted group of military men had prevented him from becoming completely callous. He’d had trouble praying since the accident, however, and he certainly hadn’t opened his Bible.

“Mahalo for the offer, but I’ll pass.”

Was it his imagination, or did her shoulders slump a little?

“Maybe another time,” she said, her gaze direct and her voice even.

“You should stay with a friend tonight.”

“Then I’d have to explain why I need a place to crash, and I don’t want to drag anyone else into my mess.” Sinking onto the curved sofa arm, Audrey smoothed a wisp of dark hair off her forehead. It was a weary gesture that again evoked the urge to soothe and comfort. He strangled it. “He already got what he wanted. Without those notes, I have nothing to stand on.”

Julian took a few steps closer. “Your father—”

“Stop.” Her spine stiffened. “We aren’t going there.”

With effort, he held back his arguments. This was her life, her choices. “I wish you’d reconsider, but in the meantime, I’m here if you need me. Call. Text. Knock. I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Thank you, Julian.” With a sigh, she stood and led the way to her door, effectively escorting him out.

As he walked back to his apartment, he was surprised by how much he regretted not agreeing to eat with her. Had to be because he was worried this guy wouldn’t be satisfied with burying evidence and wouldn’t rest until he’d buried Audrey, too.

FIVE

Audrey wasn’t answering her phone. Julian knocked on her door again, willing her to open it. He’d spent the night tossing and turning, entertaining various scenarios that made it impossible to sleep. She shouldn’t be alone. Alone, she was at the mercy of a would-be killer. He never should’ve agreed to keep this from her father. Gunny Harris lived for two things—his only child and the Corps, in that order. The emotional wounds would be beyond repair if anything happened to her. Harris would be a broken man, and Julian would be to blame.

He took the elevator to the ground level and entered the parking lot, tension tightening his shoulders at the sight of her older model Jetta. Cheering and whistles reached him from the activity fields between the apartment building and gym. A volleyball game was in progress. He wove through the vehicles to reach the spectators—out to enjoy the unseasonably warm weather—and spotted her at the net. The vise in his chest loosened.

She was fine.

She didn’t need him.

He started to turn away, to return to his apartment and another dull morning, which would stretch into a duller afternoon, when she leaped into the air and spiked the ball. He was accustomed to seeing her in hospital scrubs. Today she sported a white T-shirt, red shorts and red, black and white sneakers. Slightly taller than average, with a lean torso and long, tanned legs, Audrey was a neat package of athleticism and grace.

Julian drifted closer to watch the game. By the time it was over, he was certain she’d played on a college-level team. He would’ve put the question to her if he hadn’t been waylaid by a buddy from church who wasn’t shy in asking when Julian planned to return.

When he looked around again, most of the players and spectators had dispersed. Audrey must’ve returned to her place. Ignoring the odd sense of disappointment, he walked past the line of cars closest to the field. The one in the last slot caught his attention.

It was a sleek Mercedes with blacked-out windows. Because of its price tag, the vehicle alone was cause for a second look. The owner aroused more than mere curiosity. Steroid-sized muscles strained his designer suit. His face was mostly hidden by sunglasses and a bushy mustache. Because of his career, Julian had interacted with enough dirtbags to recognize the type. What was he doing at their complex? Running down some idiot who’d borrowed money from the wrong people? Checking up on a low-level drug pusher?

Their complex wouldn’t be considered ultraluxurious, but neither was it low-end. The monthly fee was affordable for single professionals and young married couples, and out of reach for the type of resident who’d dally in petty crime.

Unless...

Foreboding niggled at the base of his skull. What if the man was here for an altogether different reason? One involving a hospital cover-up?

* * *

Audrey carried the sack of volleyballs to the storage closet, her mind on a certain spectator who had shaken her concentration. She hadn’t been surprised to see Julian on the edge of the crowd, despite the fact he hadn’t shown interest in group activities before. Honor spilled through his veins, and duty was etched in his DNA. He’d assumed the role of protector because she was his superior’s daughter. She was an obligation, plain and simple. She’d been reminded of that truth last night, when he’d quickly shut down her offer. Sharing a meal would’ve meant they were more than passing acquaintances brought together by outrageous circumstances. Sharing a meal would’ve meant he was interested in getting to know her better. He wasn’t.

She embraced the disappointment, the sting of rejection. It was a timely reminder—her heart wasn’t ready for a relationship. Not even casual friendship, which she’d seen other women do but hadn’t ever experienced herself. She and Seth had been full-on serious from the start. The sad part? Audrey was fairly certain Julian would make a wonderful friend.

She moved past mirrored walls and stacks of barbells. The quiet unnerved her. The exercise gym was unusually empty, no doubt on account of the unusually warm weather.

Skirting the large, complex pulley-and-weight station, she entered the rear hallway, then set down the sack and unlocked the double closet doors with the key she’d gotten from the main office. A creaking sound echoed through the gym. Breath hitching, she whirled around and nearly stumbled over the balls. The lights were off, and shadows lurked on either end of the hall.

“Hello?”

The men’s bathroom was to her left, the women’s on her right. Maybe they were occupied.

Wishing she didn’t have a reason to be paranoid, Audrey entered the walk-in closet and emptied the balls into a metal container. Then she hung the sack on a wall hook. Impatient to be outside and around other people, she closed the doors with more force than necessary. She tried to jam the key into the knob and accidentally dropped it. When she bent to retrieve it, she heard heavy breathing behind her.

Panicked, she shot upward and spun around in time to see a giant man in a suit swinging a barbell at her head. She tried to dodge it. The blow landed on her upper arm, knocking her sideways. Pain radiated through her.

Pushing off the doorjamb, she sprinted past him. He put out a foot. She went sprawling face-first onto the thin carpet. Rolling beneath a weight bench, she screamed when the barbell slammed into the cushioned seat, the force sending vibrations through the metal legs. Terror exploded inside. This man was going to crush her skull with that thing.

Audrey flipped to her stomach and crawled from beneath the bench. Leaping to her feet, she raced for the nearest exit, only to skid to a stop. A second man—younger and slighter but no less a threat—blocked her escape. There was no going around him.

She was trapped.

A scream ripped through the narrow room, and it wasn’t hers.

Time seemed to screech to a halt. At the far end, another volleyball player stood frozen in her tracks. The goon with the twenty-five-pound weight glued to his fist snarled at his partner. “You were supposed to lock this place down.”

“Must’ve missed one,” the other retorted.

Weight Guy charged toward her.

“Laney, run!” Audrey shouted.

When the petite redhead didn’t react, Audrey raced after her attacker, vaulted onto the guy’s back and latched onto his thick neck.

Laney’s eyes bugged.

“Go, go!”

At last, she bolted. Her retreating footsteps were like nails in a coffin. Audrey was now alone with two attackers. Not ordinary men. Muscle-bound henchmen with eyes dead to human compassion. Coldhearted killers.

Trying to cut off his air supply was impossible. The room spun as he turned a circle and slammed her into the weight station. Sharp metal jarred her shoulder blades and spine and dug into her flesh. Her head snapped back.

He shifted, and she slid to her knees. Spots danced in her vision. Her stomach lurched.

In an instant, the second man was there. “Go get the other one. Conner’s still at the car. He can help you. I’ll deal with the nurse.”

She heard a clink above her. A long, rubber-encased handle clattered to the floor nearby. Before she could summon the energy to flee, a beefy hand closed over her neck and hauled her to her feet.

Audrey gagged and clawed at his grip. His pale eyes drilled into hers. Ruthless. Merciless.

“You’ve caused my boss enough trouble,” he growled. “No more.”

Before she could guess what he was about, he’d pushed her beneath the high lat muscle pull-down and looped twin cables around her neck. He reached behind her, and she heard the slide of the metal clip in the thin, black weights attached to the pull-down bar. The wire went taut, pinching her skin, forcing her onto her tiptoes.

“Four hundred pounds should do it.”

Her mind went blank. As soon as he let go of her, the cables stretched, the weights slapped into place and lifted her several inches off the floor.

She dangled in midair, unable to breathe. She kicked and squirmed.

Pain ripped through her. Her neck felt like it was about to separate from her body.

Please, God. Help. I’m not ready—

The bald, gold-jewelry-draped goon smirked. “No use fighting it, babe.”

He crossed his arms and watched her struggle with frightening impassivity. His was the last face she’d ever see. A cruel, evil being taking delight in her fight to cling to life.

Her lungs strained for oxygen. A familiar sensation.

Was he the same one who’d attempted to strangle her at the hospital?

Audrey grew light-headed. Her thoughts became disjointed.

She ceased moving. The agony was too great.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on her dad’s face. He’d loved her well. She would die thinking about him, not the end of unfulfilled dreams.

* * *

Julian left the flashy car and mystery man behind and was retracing his steps when a redhead burst through the gym’s side door, her face a white mask of disbelief. Her frantic gaze locked onto him.

“Audrey,” she gasped, chest heaving. “Two men... I—I—”

He gripped her shoulders. “Go to the office and call the police.”

“Police.” Her throat convulsed. “Right.”

“Walk, don’t run. Act casual.” He jerked his head toward the Mercedes tucked close to the apartment-building entrance. “Avoid that area. Take the long way around the outdoor pool.”

“Okay.”

Julian couldn’t delay. He’d have to trust she would follow his instructions and avoid the man who might very well be the getaway driver. Unsheathing his weapon from the ankle holster beneath his pants, he entered the gym and searched the space behind the check-in counter. The tiny office was closed on the weekends, and the locked door suggested no one was inside.

His ears strained for sounds of struggle. The silence weighed on him. Blanking his mind to possible implications, he left the counter area and passed the water fountains and childcare room. Up ahead, treadmills and elliptical machines were parked in front of mounted televisions. There were no mirrors in that section that could give him a glimpse of Audrey’s situation.

The adrenaline priming his body for confrontation left no room for fear. His training ruled his actions and decisions. So when a suited man turned the corner and headed straight for him, Julian fired two shots without blinking, one for each kneecap.

Curses blistered the air as the man went down. Quickly divesting the man of his single weapon, Julian flattened against the wall and peered around the corner. Kneecap Guy’s cohort was on his way to investigate. That didn’t faze him.

What caused ice-cold dread to spread through him was the sight of Audrey’s limp form dangling from the weight station. He couldn’t be too late. Not again.

Stepping fully into the exercise area, he trained his weapon and shot the man’s gun hand. Hissing in agony, he dropped his weapon and, after a second’s indecision, escaped through the side door.

Julian kicked the gun under a stack of barbells for the authorities to retrieve later. He reached Audrey and immediately took her weight, positioning her against his shoulder to lessen the tension on her neck. “Audrey, can you hear me?”

He glanced up into her motionless face. Her cheeks and lips still held the blush of color. A good sign. Images of the burning wreckage and the faces of his unresponsive team members poked at his composure. He had asked them the same question. Over and over until his voice had gone hoarse.

Can you hear me? Wake up. Hold on. The ambulance is coming.

He shook his head to dislodge the memories. Focus, Tan. Audrey’s life depends upon your actions.

Dragging a weight bench over with his foot, he positioned her shoes on the soft pad and, not letting go, climbed onto it and unwound the cables with one hand. The flutter of her heartbeat and small, panting breaths filled him with relief. He kept his ears open for foreign sounds. If the guy at the Mercedes was indeed part of the operation, he’d come to see what was taking his buddies so long.

Finally, when he had her free, he climbed down, hoisted her into his arms and dashed for the women’s bathroom. The locker rooms with toilet stalls were in the adjoining indoor-pool section. These consisted of one-room units with locks on the doors.

He yanked open the door, ignoring the responding ache in his injured wrist, and gently laid her on the tiles against the wall opposite the sink. After sliding the bolt into place, he returned to her side and did a quick scan for obvious injuries. He would’ve liked to hold her, to cushion her head in his lap, but he didn’t want to exacerbate any hidden injuries. Instead, he smoothed his fingers over her forehead and down her cheek.

His pulse raced when she arced toward the caress.

“Audrey, you’re safe now.”

A groan escaped her parted lips. She reached up and would’ve touched her throat, but he clasped her hand to prevent germs from entering the open scratches. There weren’t many. Mostly the welts were puffy and red. Her eyes flew open.

“Julian.” Her brow knitted. “How did we get in here?”

He explained about the thug outside with his flashy ride, as well as her volleyball teammate.

Terror filled her eyes. “Is Laney safe?”

“I sent her on a roundabout course to the office,” he explained. He couldn’t verify that her friend had reached her destination.

“Where are my attackers?”

“One fled on foot, and the other is incapacitated. There could be a third one who will help them evade authorities.” Julian made a quick call to the police. Disconnecting, he said, “Your friend made it to the office, because several units are already en route. We’ve been instructed to remain here until they say it’s safe to come out.”

Chest heaving, she started to sit up.

“Whoa, steady.” He moved to assist her, retracting his hand when she hissed in pain. “What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

Easing to a sitting position, she rested her head against the wall and balanced herself with both palms on the floor. “I got in the way of a barbell.”

Julian shifted closer and lifted her sleeve. The flesh was a mass of dark purple. Concealing a burst of anger, he said evenly, “You’ll need to get that examined.”

She gingerly rotated her shoulder and raised her arm up and down. “Doesn’t feel broken.”

“Still, I’m calling for an ambulance.” He took out his cell.

“No.” Her fingers closed over his wrist. “I’m not going to the hospital.”

The entreaty in her eyes was at odds with the militant angle of her chin.

“After what you’ve endured, you need to be evaluated by a physician. At the very least, you’ll need X-rays of that arm and shoulder.”

Her fingertips pressed into his pulse point. “This is personal, Julian. I want to decide who knows and who doesn’t. If I go there for treatment, every employee will be talking about it.”

A shiver ripped through her, and he noticed how cold her fingers were. Tucking away his cell, he covered her fingers with his hand and tried to warm them.

“I can take you to Wilmington.”

“I’m fine.” She studied his face and sighed. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll call Lincoln. He’s a surgeon and good friend.”

Julian refused to give voice to curiosity. Whether or not she had a boyfriend was none of his business. “Call him.”

“I’ll ask him to come to my apartment.”

“Make it my apartment.”

The protest brewing on her lips died a quick death. “I can’t stay in mine, can I?”

“Not anytime soon. You’re welcome to my guest bedroom as long as you need it.”

Her mouth twisted. “That would mean dragging you deeper into this. Putting you in harm’s way. I’ll go to a hotel—”

“I’m already in this with you.” The thought of Audrey facing these monsters alone was untenable. “I’ve thwarted the enemy’s plans. I’ve wounded two of their own. My name’s on the hit list along with yours.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “You did that for me.”

“I’d do it again if it meant saving you.”

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