14. Too Late
Chapter 14
Too Late
CALLIE
M y startled yelp was smothered behind a hand that felt rough and smelled weird as fingertips roughly dug in.
I had no idea what was going on, but at the tight hold, instinct took over. I thrashed. I kicked. I jerked my head to the side to try to free my mouth so I could scream. My thoughts raced a million miles a second with all the possibilities until they suddenly slowed to a dazed, slogging pace. I couldn’t focus on any of the fleeting words. My chest ached, and I reached up to yank the hold away so I could breathe.
I needed to breathe.
Surprisingly, the palm was easy to move, and I sucked in air. I did it again, filling my lungs so I could scream. It came out as a raspy hiss.
A second attempt was even worse.
“Whaaa—”
My disoriented question was cut off by a robotic whisper. “I warned you.” Whoever it was shifted me before there was a harsh—yet still robotic—grunt.
And then my side itched. At first, at least. The sensation rapidly grew to a sting, then a burn.
It was on fire .
I wanted to pat out the flame, but my arms weren’t working correctly.
Tears flowed, and I couldn’t wipe at them. I could barely blink.
Move. Move, dammit.
It took all my willpower, and it was nowhere near enough. The mighty lunge I aimed for was hardly more than a stumble.
There was another forceful robot grunt right as I managed to twist. It was a mistake. The pain in my side changed. It overwhelmed me.
The fire.
The agony.
The haze.
It sank in deep until I could feel it rattle my bones.
“Fuck,” the voice rumbled before letting me drop to the dirty concrete. My brain and arms both lagged worse than my laptop, and I couldn’t catch myself as I collapsed to the side. My skull smashed with a sickening thud.
Everything flickered, going dark and then too bright. My vision narrowed as the black around the edges pushed in. The water in my already swimming head rose until I was drowning. The sharp scent of various car fluids that’d soaked into the ground beneath my head was the only thing keeping me from going under. I wished that it wouldn’t. I wanted to escape the pain of fire engulfing my side until my ribs ached. Until they felt like they were going to crack.
It was a wet flame, too. I couldn’t piece together how that was possible, but it was. The burn dripped down my torso.
Heavy breaths echoed around me, intercut with labored groans. I barely held on to consciousness when everything down to my bone marrow throbbed in pain.
My blurry gaze focused on the robot looming over me. I wanted to close my eyes and give in, but I couldn’t.
I never backed down.
If I had my keys… Well, I wouldn’t be in that predicament. But I also could’ve used the actual pepper spray I’d purchased. Since I didn’t have them, I needed to improvise.
Channeling everything I had into my sluggish movements, it still felt like my legs were nothing more than cooked spaghetti noodles. I kicked out anyway. Not at the robot.
At the car next to us. One that was thankfully newer than the boat I drove.
At the silence that followed, a sinking realization began to settle in my queasy stomach.
I’d wasted my one burst of energy.
But then it happened.
The car’s alarm triggered, the sound ricocheting around us.
The robot didn’t run at the noise, but it was startled. Its movements turned frantic as it jerked me deeper into the shadows. It dropped to its knees next to me.
I couldn’t see its eyes under the oversized hoodie it had pulled over its head. I could barely make out the glint of its metal mouth. But I could feel it staring.
Scrambling, I struggled to move. To delay the inevitable. To fight .
A single hand on my side was all it took to immobilize me. I didn’t understand. It wasn’t a forceful hold, but it made bile burn up my throat as anguish seared through me.
I braced, and the tightness made things worse. My consciousness flickered.
Something beeped, and in my delirium, I thought it was the robot over me, but it froze, too. And then its head snapped up as voices grew louder.
I kicked out, but it was like pillows hitting against clouds. I stretched for something, but there was nothing within reach. The robot cowered closer, its odd hand moving toward my mouth.
But it was too late.
I forced out a scream.
It sounded like a bleating goat with a sore throat, but it was something. I hoped it was audible over the alarm.
The robot didn’t hesitate. He was up and running.
Leaving liquid fire to leak from my body.
“Stop!” someone called before rhythmically beating a drum inside my head. That was the way it felt, at least.
The world around me spun, and I closed my eyes to fight against the motion sickness from it.
“Whoa. Whoa. What the fuck? Callie, what the fuck?”
I didn’t know whose panicked voice was asking the question. I also didn’t know what the fuck in order to answer it.
So I didn’t try. I did what I’d been looking forward to minutes before when I’d been walking to my car.
Has it really only been minutes and not hours?
It didn’t matter. It was finally time to sleep.
Only I got the distinct impression it wouldn’t be for a week like I’d wanted.
It would be for much, much longer.
Marco
“What’s happening?” I asked as soon as the call connected.
Miles didn’t take offense to the lack of greeting. He also didn’t answer my question. He asked his own. “Where are you?”
Fuck .
The sinking in my gut didn’t like that he’d said it. Or how he’d said it.
And I wasn’t the only one. With him on speaker through the Bluetooth, Cole and Freddy had heard the evasive, guarded tone. Cole was already reaching for his phone. Freddy leaned between the seats to watch over his shoulder.
“On our way. What’s happening?” I repeated.
The initial text from Dante—one of the security guards—was that he’d caught a hooded man lurking between cars when he’d been walking an employee out. He’d chased him from the garage but had lost him. None of that warranted Miles’s caginess unless Dante had fucked up. Even then, it didn’t make sense. Mistakes happened.
Often.
Cole would track the offender down. I was looking forward to that part. Miles and the resort management could handle police reports and disgruntled guests.
“Christ, maybe you should pull over,” Miles muttered.
“Spit it out.”
“When Dante got back into the garage, he saw he hadn’t interrupted car break-ins. It was an attack.”
“Who’s hurt? How bad?”
Because it had to be serious to deserve a call when he knew we were on our way. My mind started going a hundred miles a minute, planning who to call, what took priority, whether it was a statement situation or if Maximo should come speak to the victim, police, and any press.
“It’s Callie, the server from Parisian Crescent.”
My thoughts screeched to a halt. Went totally fucking blank.
’Cause in everything I’d thought he’d say, that sure as hell wasn’t on the list.
My brain was logical. Analytical. I could easily handle shit when I thought it was a random person, and my job was to make sure they were good, that whoever was punished, and that Black Resorts came out looking compassionate but also not a place to fuck with again.
All that went out that damn window at hearing her name.
Freddy kept his head better than me—or Cole, since a quick glance at the passenger’s seat showed he’d also froze. He leaned between the front seats to ask, “Is she okay? Were medics called to check her over?”
“She’s on her way to the hospital.”
Fuck.
Since causing a crash wouldn’t help anything, I slowed long enough to check the mirrors before doing a U-turn, the tires squealing and the SUV rocking.
“How bad?” I asked again. That time, the answer was more important to me than solely for planning purposes.
Miles let out a smothered, panicked groan. I’d never seen the man ruffled. Not once, no matter what bullshit we dealt with on the daily. He said that compared to his days off with his five kids, drunk assholes at Moonlight were nothing. His voice lowered like there were other people around that he didn’t want to hear. “It’s bad, man. She was unconscious when the EMTs rushed her away. I don’t even know what happened, but there’s blood everywhere.”
I pressed the accelerator harder. “We’re going to the hospital. Call Maximo?—”
“Already done. He’s on his way here.”
Like he could sense I was talking about him, a text popped up on the SUV’s screen followed quickly by one from his wife.
Boss: Almost to Moonlight. Go to the hospital. Pierce is off tonight, but he’s headed there now.
Juliet: Keep us updated. And tell Callie I said I’m sorry. Please.
I skimmed the messages before asking, “Anything else, Miles?”
“The police are here, searching cameras and the grounds with security. I’ll let you know if they find anything, but it’s unlikely they’ll share that info.”
If we got lucky, one of Maximo’s connections on the force would leak it to us, but I wasn’t counting on that. “Send someone with one of the security laptops for Cole.”
“I want my own,” Cole interrupted. He never let anyone touch his personal laptop, and I wasn’t about to turn around so he could grab it. I opened my mouth to tell him he could take the Rover once we reached the hospital, but he kept talking, his fingers moving across his phone. “Maximo will get it from my office and have someone deliver it.”
“Got it,” Miles said. “Callie’s emergency contact in her file is someone named Tess, but that number is disconnected. Do any of you know anyone else we should call?”
I hesitated. We’d cut her off for a damn month due to her link with Eternal Sun, but there I was, wondering if we should be the ones to contact her parents.
“No,” Freddy and Cole answered at the same time.
“Okay,” Miles said. “Be in touch.”
The beep of the call disconnecting seemed to echo in the sudden heavy silence.
There’s blood everywhere .
Miles’s words continued to ricochet in my skull like a bullet, doing just as much emotional damage.
If she was hurt…
If she was more than hurt, maybe her parents should know.
I tightened my hold on the steering wheel. “We sure about not calling them?”
“Yes,” Freddy answered before I’d finished speaking. “Callie said she hasn’t spoken to her parents since she left that place. She didn’t even hesitate when she agreed not to contact them. There’s a reason for that.”
I knew he had a point. And that he was speaking from experience. I wasn’t as tight with my family as Ash was with his. They didn’t know all about my life and job like his did. But if I was injured bad enough to require a hospital—and not just the usual off-the-books stitch-up from Dr. Pierce—my folks and brother would be on the first flight from Miami.
The other two were different.
We were the only family Cole had.
And other than an aunt down in New Orleans, we might as well have been Freddy’s only family, too. He could be on his deathbed, and if he found out we called his uptight dickhead parents, he would miraculously recover long enough to kick our asses before kicking the bucket.
For all we knew, it was a similar situation for her, and us opening that line of communication would fuck her over. Especially when they were the kind of nutjobs who would get involved with a place like Eternal Sun.
Family wasn’t always loving, and they sure as hell didn’t always have good intentions.
None of us spoke as I swerved through traffic, getting stuck at every damn red light or behind every slow driver. By the time we reached the hospital, I was coming out of my skin. We rushed inside the packed emergency department, and I scanned the room for Pierce.
He wasn’t there yet.
A bored woman clicked at a keyboard when we reached the registration desk. “Can I help you?”
“Looking for a patient. Callie…”
“Meadows,” Freddy filled in since I didn’t know her last name.
“Might be under Calliope,” Cole added. I didn’t know that was her full name, either.
I was too busy being a prick, and now it could be too late.
I didn’t focus on the burning regret. I’d let that eat away at me later. Once I knew she was safe.
The woman finally looked up from the monitor before doing a double take. “Are you family, friends…?”
“Boyfriend,” I lied.
She batted her lashes, undeterred as she looked between us. “All of you?”
“Yes,” Freddy and Cole agreed.
Her slow blink said she wasn’t buying our bullshit, but we didn’t back down. She tapped at her keyboard, and her demeanor changed from flirty to somber.
And the pit in my stomach turned into a fucking abyss.
“There’s only one Callie in the system, no last name. We can’t give you any information without her consent.”
The man at another intake computer rolled his chair over. He glanced at the screen before giving us a sympathetic look that gutted me. His lips pressed together before he shared, “It might be a while before we’re able to get that. You’re welcome to wait with her other… friend.”
“Other friend?” I asked.
He hesitated, then pointed across the room.
I twisted to see the back of a pacing man. When he spun, I recognized him as one of the chefs from Parisian Crescent, but I didn’t know his name.
I looked at Freddy, expecting him to fill in the name or explain, but his jaw was clenched tight as he glared daggers at him.
I lifted my chin in thanks and followed where Freddy and Cole were already headed. Right for whatever his name was.
The man turned to keep pacing and stumbled to see us standing close. Otherwise, he didn’t look surprised we were there.
He didn’t look anything but terrified.
“Hill,” Freddy greeted, and I could hear the strain. The jealousy he was working to keep back since it wasn’t the time. The worry all of us were choking on, feeling fucking helpless. “How’s Callie? What happened?”
Like just those two questions added a thousand pounds to the man’s shoulders, he collapsed into a chair. He brought his hands to cradle his head before stopping suddenly. He grimaced and dropped them, his face going green.
His hands looked clean, but splatters of blood remained on the sleeves of his hoodie.
Callie’s blood.