Chapter 32 #2
“Are you sure you don't know where she went?… Okay, if you hear from her, please call me immediately… No, there’s no need for you to come back to the hospital.”
She hung up and looked at all of us with confusion written across her face.
“She says she delivered the flowers with Joy, then left immediately. Claims she has no idea where Joy went after that.” Roxie shook her head. “But she seemed genuinely surprised and concerned that Joy was missing. Even offered to come back and help look.”
The door opened, Trenda and Ava walked back in, their faces ashen. “Anything?” Trenda asked.
I shook my head.
A different nurse appeared in the doorway, looking annoyed. “Excuse me, but there are too many people in this room. Hospital policy limits visitors to three at a time.”
“Get out,” I snarled.
The nurse's eyes widened.
“Graham.” Roxie's voice carried a warning.
“I don't give a shit about hospital policy. Joy is missing.”
Before the nurse could respond, the door burst open again as Nash rushed in, looking grim.
“We found her on the security footage,” Nash announced.
“Where is she?” I demanded, struggling to sit up despite the pain in my ribs.
“She was in the parking garage. She was walking voluntarily with some woman, who then stabbed a syringe into her neck and pushed her into the trunk of her car.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. The room went dead silent except for the beeping of my monitors.
“Short brown hair?” I asked Nash.
“Yes.”
I turned to Roxie. “Could it be this Glenda bitch?”
“Are you asking if Glenda could have drugged and kidnapped Joy?” Ava asked.
“Yes!” I spat out.
“Hell yes,” Ava answered. “I always thought she had psycho tendencies.”
“How long ago?” Seth's voice was deadly calm.
“Fifty-three minutes,” Nash said, checking his watch. “We've got the license plate and vehicle description. We’ve got an all-points bulletin out on the car.”
I started pulling off the monitors attached to my chest as I sat up, fighting the dizziness threatening to send me back under.
“Graham, what are you doing?” Trenda grabbed my good arm.
“I'm going after her.”
“You can barely sit up.”
“I don't care. That psycho has Joy. I'm not lying here doing nothing.”
“You'll be useless in your condition,” Simon said firmly. “Let us handle this.”
“She's my woman.” The words came out as a growl. “I should have protected her.”
“And you will,” Nash said. “But right now, the best thing you can do is let us find her while you heal enough to be useful.”
The logical part of my brain knew they were right. I could barely stand without help, let alone track down a kidnapper. But every instinct I had screamed that I should be out there hunting for Joy, not lying helpless in a hospital bed.
“Find her,” I said to the room at large. “I don't care what it takes. Find her and bring her home.”
As the men filed out to coordinate the search, one thought kept circling through my mind.
Glenda had been right under our noses the entire time, playing the concerned friend, earning Joy's trust, gathering information about our routines and security measures.
And now she had the woman I loved.
The silence in my hospital room felt heavier than the pain radiating through my broken ribs. Fifteen minutes had passed since the guys had filed out to coordinate the search for Joy, leaving me with nothing but the steady beep of monitors and the crushing weight of my own failures.
That left Trenda, Ava, and Roxie sitting in the two uncomfortable vinyl chairs beside my bed.
Roxie had her phone pressed to her ear as she coordinated with someone about search grids.
Ava paced the small space like a caged animal, her usually perfect hair disheveled from running her hands through it.
I stared at the ceiling tiles, counting the water stains while my mind spiraled into familiar territory. The kind of dark thoughts that had haunted me since Africa. Since I'd led good men into an ambush and watched them die because I'd trusted bad intelligence.
Bullshit, you failed them.
The voice in my head sounded like my own, but crueler. More vicious.
You were supposed to protect them. You were supposed to see the trap coming. You were supposed to bring them home.
My chest tightened, and not from the broken ribs. The same crushing weight that had driven me to the edge after losing Todd, Roy, and Hamm pressed down on my sternum like a concrete block.
Now you've failed Joy, too.
I closed my eyes, imagining her face as she was pushed into the trunk of a car by someone she trusted. The confusion. The fear. The moment she realized what was happening to her.
She trusted you to keep her safe. She believed in you. And where is she now?
The monitors beside my bed started beeping faster as my heart rate climbed. Trenda looked up from her phone call, concern creasing her features.
“Graham.” Her voice cut through the noise in my head. “You're spiraling.”
I opened my eyes and met her gaze. Did Trenda understand veterans? The way we sometimes retreated into our own heads when the weight of responsibility became too much to bear. What was I thinking? She was married to Simon. Of course she did.
“I should have seen this coming.” The words tasted like ash in my mouth. “Should have known it was Glenda.”
“How?” Ava stopped pacing and fixed me with a sharp look. “She fooled all of us. Even me, and I’m a suspicious bitch.”
“That's my job. Reading people. Seeing threats before they materialize.”
“Your job is loving Joy and keeping her safe,” Roxie said, the same words Joy had spoken to me after the SWATing incident. “You can't predict every possible attack.”
But I could hear the doubt creeping into my own thoughts. The same voice that had whispered poison after Africa. The same poison that wouldn’t allow me to face my father again.
You're not good enough. You never were. You let your team down, and now you've let Joy down, too.
The beeping grew more insistent. My hands started shaking, and not from the medication wearing off.
Then Joy's voice echoed in my memory. Not the panicked one from my imagination, but the strong, determined woman who'd crawled into my lap after I'd told her about my failures overseas.
You accomplished the impossible, Graham. You got Kent out alive when you both should have died.
I remembered the way she'd looked at me when she said those words. Like she could see straight through to the core of who I was and found me worthy, despite everything I’d shared with her.
You've been carrying Kent and Todd and Roy and Hamm on your shoulders because you couldn't accept that sometimes good men die and there's nothing their team leader can do about it.
The beeping slowed as my heart rate dropped back toward normal. The crushing weight on my chest started lifting again.
Joy was right. I'd been so focused on the mission that went wrong that I'd forgotten about all the ones that went right. All the men I'd brought home safely. All the objectives we'd accomplished against impossible odds.
And right now, Joy needed the man who'd survived twelve years as a Navy SEAL. Not the broken veteran who beat himself up over things beyond his control.
I sat up straighter in the hospital bed, ignoring the fire in my ribs. My mind cleared, shifting into the tactical mode that had kept me alive in hostile territory.
Glenda had Joy, but she'd made mistakes. Left evidence. Exposed herself on security cameras. Every second that passed gave us more information to work with.
We were going to find her. We were going to bring Joy home. And Glenda was going to pay for what she'd done.
“That's better.” Trenda's voice carried approval. “I can see you coming back to us.”
I reached over and yanked the IV from my arm, ignoring the sharp sting as the needle came free. Blood welled up, but I pressed my thumb over the spot to stop the bleeding.
“Graham, what are you doing?” Ava moved closer to the bed.
“Getting the hell out of here.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed, the room tilting slightly before my vision cleared. “I need my pants.”
None of the women looked surprised. Trenda walked to the small closet and pulled open the door.
“There aren't any pants in here.” She turned back to me with empty hands. “Just your bloody shirt from the accident.”
“I don't give a shit.” I stood up, testing my balance. The hospital gown barely covered my ass, but modesty was the least of my concerns right now. I grabbed the thin blanket from the bed and wrapped it around my waist. “Let's go.”