Chapter 4
The fluorescent lights above the hospital bed buzzed with an electrical hum that seemed to vibrate through Riley's skull.
Everything was too bright, too clean, too white—a stark contrast to the metal tomb where she'd lost track of time and hope.
The antiseptic smell burned her nostrils, but it was clean, sterile, and safe.
So different from the stench of her own fear and filth that had surrounded her for …
how long had it been? She started to shake again.
Her muscles ached from it, and her head pounded with an unrelenting headache.
Her throat felt like sandpaper, raw and swollen from screaming even when no one could hear her, from the hands that had choked her until she thought she would die. Riley forced the memories away. Not now. Not when she was finally safe.
Dr. Martinez moved around the bed with efficient precision, her kind, dark brown eyes occasionally meeting Riley's as she worked. The woman spoke with a gentle Spanish accent that somehow made everything feel less threatening.
"I need to examine your injuries thoroughly. Is that all right?" Dr. Martinez asked, her voice soft but professional.
Riley nodded, though the movement sent a sharp pain through her neck where bruises bloomed across her skin. She caught sight of herself in the metal surface of a medical cart and quickly looked away. She didn't recognize the hollow-eyed woman staring back.
"Your friend, the one who brought you in, he's waiting outside. Very worried about you," Dr. Martinez said as she gently probed Riley's swollen jaw. "He refused to leave until he knew you were stable."
Talon. The man who'd appeared like some kind of warrior angel in that hellish container. Riley's heart rate spiked on the monitor beside her bed, beeping frantically.
"Where … where is he?" she croaked, her voice barely recognizable.
"Right outside. The nursing staff had to practically force him to let us examine you alone." Dr. Martinez smiled gently. "He's very protective."
As the doctor continued her examination, Riley tried to focus on her words rather than the gentle but necessary touches that made her skin crawl with phantom memories.
"You have significant facial swelling and bruising.
The x-rays show a hairline fracture of your zygomatic arch—your cheekbone.
It will heal, but there may be some tenderness for several weeks.
" Dr. Martinez's pen scratched against the clipboard as she made notes.
"The ligature marks around your neck indicate strangulation, but your airway is clear, and there's no permanent damage to your trachea. "
Riley's hand instinctively went to her throat, fingertips tracing the tender skin where someone's hands had tried to steal her breath, her life.
"Your wrists show deep compression injuries from restraints.
There's some nerve damage in your hands—you may experience numbness and tingling for a while, but physical therapy should help restore full function.
" The doctor's voice remained calm, clinical, but Riley could hear the underlying anger at what had been done to her.
"You're severely dehydrated and malnourished. We're administering IV fluids and will closely monitor your electrolyte levels. You also have multiple contusions across your torso and back, but no internal bleeding or organ damage."
Each injury catalogued felt like reliving the moment it was inflicted. Riley closed her eyes, trying to disappear into the white hospital pillow.
"Ma’am, you're going to be all right. Your body will heal. I want you to know that." Dr. Martinez placed a gentle hand on Riley's arm. "I'm also recommending you speak with our trauma counselor. What you've been through … The mind needs healing, too."
Riley nodded, tears slipping down her cheeks before she could stop them. The salt stung the cuts on her face. "Can—can I see him? Talon?" The name felt foreign on her tongue, but saying it somehow made her feel less alone.
"Of course. But only for a few minutes. You need rest."
Dr. Martinez stepped out, and moments later, Talon appeared in the doorway.
He looked different under the harsh hospital lights.
Younger somehow, his hard edges softened by concern.
His dark hair was still damp with sweat, and his tactical gear had been replaced with a simple black T-shirt and jeans.
"Hey," he said quietly, hovering near the door as if afraid to come closer.
"Hey." Riley's voice was barely a whisper.
He moved slowly into the room, his hands loose at his sides, every movement telegraphed and non-threatening. Even in her fragile state, she recognized he was being careful not to startle her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, though his eyes were already cataloguing her visible injuries with what she was beginning to recognize as professional concern mixed with something more personal.
"Like I got hit by a truck.” She attempted a smile, but her split lip made it painful. "But alive. Thanks to you."
Talon's jaw tightened. "You don't need to thank me."
"Yes, I do." Riley struggled to sit up straighter, ignoring the way her ribs protested. "You saved my life. All of you did." She’d regained consciousness after the medic had started an IV. She couldn’t remember his name. Or the name of the others who’d helped carry her to a transfer vessel once she was put on a litter. She’d lost consciousness again and had woken up in the hospital.
"We were just doing our job."
"No." Riley's voice was stronger now, more insistent. "It was more than that. You … you made me … You found me … In that place, I thought I was going to die, and no one would ever know what happened to me."
Talon moved closer to the bed, his expression pained. "Riley …"
"They said you wouldn't leave. That you refused to go until you knew I was okay." She looked up at him, this stranger who had become her lifeline. "Why?"
He was quiet for a long moment, his green eyes searching her face. "Because no one should go through what you went through. And because …" He paused, seeming to struggle with the words. "Because I couldn't leave knowing you were scared and alone."
The heart monitor picked up again, but this time, it wasn't from fear. There was something in his voice, in the way he looked at her, that made her feel seen. Not as a victim, not as a job, but as a person worth protecting. She only had brief glimpses of memories of her mom. And to be truthful, she wasn’t sure they were memories, or if they were wishes she’d brought into being through the years.
There was something about the man … He was real.
Here. Not a made-up dream of what could have been or a romanticized wish of a relationship with her father. Talon was here.
"I have to head back to base for debriefing, but I need to ask you a few questions so we can understand why you were on the ship," he said reluctantly.
Until he wasn’t. She lay back on her pillow, exhausted from the few moments she’d tried to sit up. “I’m the ESG Compliance and Sustainability Officer for Shoemaker Resources.”
Talon blinked and then narrowed his gaze at her. “What does that mean, and how did that put you on that ship?”
“I’m responsible for monitoring the company’s environmental, social, and governance compliance.
ESG, for short.” She closed her eyes. “Due to the nature of the rare earth exports, I do field-level audits and oversight. There was an anomaly on the cargo manifest. Three containers that weren’t listed but were loaded onto the ship.
The local government notified me of it.”
“So, you went out to the ship,” Talon finished for her.
“Yeah.” She sighed.
“Who from the local government notified you?”
“The name is on my desk at work. I don’t remember.”
“That’s okay. We can figure that out.”
He shifted as if to leave, but she stopped him, asking, “Did my father send you?”
“Your father?” He frowned. “Who’s your father?”
“Harlan Shoemaker. He owns the company.”
Talon nodded. “He’s the one who contacted us.”
At his tone, Riley opened her eyes and looked at him. He was so angry. “Why are you mad?”
He blinked and shook his head. “My natural state, I guess.” He smiled at her, and the transformation nearly took her breath away. He was such a handsome man. "The doctors want to keep you for observation for a few days."
Panic flared in Riley's chest, swift and overwhelming, and her hand shot out before she could stop herself, grasping his wrist. "Don't go. Please."
The words came out desperate, embarrassing, but she couldn't take them back. The tremors came back with a vengeance. She shook through her tight grip on his arm. The thought of being alone, even in this safe place, made her feel like she was drowning.
Talon looked down at her hand on his arm, then back at her face. "I have to, but I’m sure you’ll be fine here. It’s a good hospital."
"Promise?" The word sounded childish, but she didn't care.
"I promise." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "You have your cell phone, right? It was still in your pocket when I left you with the medics.”
“I do. It’s out of battery, but the nurse said I could use her charger. She was going to get it for me after her shift.”
“Then give me your number. When it’s charged, and you're feeling up to it, you can text me.” He looked around and moved over to the small area where the nurse worked on her notes.
He wrote down his number on the back of a piece of paper he found and gave it to her. “Day or night, it doesn't matter."
With a shaking voice, Riley recited her phone number, watching as he entered it into his contacts. The simple act felt monumentally important, as if he were giving her a direct line to safety.
"What if …" Riley swallowed hard, forcing herself to voice her deepest fear. "What if I can't handle this? What if I'm not strong enough? I’m so afraid."
Talon's hand covered hers where it still rested on his arm. His skin was warm, calloused, real. "Riley, you survived something that would have broken most people. You're already stronger than you know. It’s okay to be afraid. You’ve faced the worst already."
She didn’t feel that way. She felt weak, overwhelmed, and scared. So damn scared. "How can you be sure?"
"Because I've seen strong, and I've seen broken.
You're not broken. Hurt, yes. Scared, absolutely.
But not broken." His thumb traced gently across her knuckles.
"And you won't be alone. I meant what I said.
You can text anytime. I don't care if it's three in the morning or if you just want to know someone remembers you exist. I might not be able to respond right away if I’m on a mission …
" He let his words drift for a moment. “But I will answer.”
Fresh tears spilled over, but these felt different. Cleaner somehow, some of the pressure sitting on her chest lifted a bit. "I don't even know your last name."
"King. Talon King."
"Riley Shoemaker," she said formally as if they were meeting for the first time.
"Nice to meet you, Riley Shoemaker." There was a ghost of a smile in his voice. "Now, get some rest. Doctor's orders."
He started to pull away, but her grip tightened. "Talon?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For everything. For finding me and not thinking I’m crazy."
His expression grew serious, intense. "I would never think that. What you’ve been through … I know people who’ve been where you are. It doesn’t make you crazy; it makes you a survivor. Remember that."
After he left, Riley stared at the ceiling, her phone and his number clutched in her hands like a talisman. For the first time since her nightmare had begun, she felt something other than fear or pain.
She felt hope.
And maybe, just maybe, she felt the beginning of trust.
“Did you hear that?” Talon asked as he walked down the hospital’s corridor. “She’s the fucker’s daughter, and he didn’t think to mention she was on the boat.” Dude’s deep voice growled. It got that way when he was pissed.
Talon glanced over his shoulder toward her room. “Maybe he didn’t know.”
“Want to take a bet on that?” Jug said.
Talon glanced over at the old SUV his team was using at the moment. “No.” He walked across the parking lot and got in the front passenger seat.
“He knew the ship had been held for over a week,” Stryker swore bitterly. “What kind of father doesn’t know where their kids are?”
“She isn’t a child.” Hammer held his hands up when four sets of eyes swung back to look at him. “Hey, does your mom know where you are?”
Stryker shook his head. “No, but I’m not a woman.”
“Wow. Sexist much?” Wolf said.
“What the fuck ever,” Jug said and started the vehicle. “Glad you gave her your number, Skipper.”
“Don’t call me Skipper,” Talon corrected him again.
“Why, Skipper?” Wolf taunted him.
“Skipper, I’m hungry.”
“Are we there yet, Skipper?”
The comments flew, and he groaned, plopping his head back against the headrest. “Assholes.”
The laughter in the vehicle was the release they all needed. “Get us to the helipad, Jug.”
“Your word is my command, Skipper.”
Fucking asshats. Talon closed his eyes. He would talk to Ronan.
If that fucker knew she was on that ship …
He’d end up in worse shape than the woman he’d hit with the butt of his weapon.
Thankfully, that one would be interviewed by Guardian—not released to the local authorities.
Seemed the ship had drifted exactly one mile into international waters.
Or so the GPS coordinates Guardian had verified for the locals stipulated.