Chapter Twenty
M?RTEN’S GAZE STAYED anchored on Summer, who sat curled up in a chair in the corner of the hospital room, even while a nurse continued to fuss around him. She looked small, diminished somehow from the woman he had come to know. She kept her eyes averted, refusing to look at him.
M?rten still couldn’t unravel everything that’d happened out at the farm tonight.
Of course, he reported everything matter-of-factly in his statement.
Stated that after he called for backup, he’d entered the building through the rear because he was afraid for Summer’s life.
He’d overheard the two perpetrators talking about killing her, and they were occupied out the front, so he took his chance, not prepared to wait for the other units to arrive.
He’d reported that they’d heard a scream—which must have been Nathan attacking Paige—and then Nathan had ambushed him.
It was with some discomfort that M?rten had also admitted to dropping his weapon.
That Summer had picked it up and kept it pointed at Nathan long enough for him to subdue the suspect.
There was an entire week’s worth of paperwork in just that single incident.
A police officer losing his firearm was unsatisfactory and unprofessional.
But a civilian picking up that same gun and using it—even if it was to help him—was not only highly undesirable, it was humiliating and humbling as well.
Summer had probably saved his life, or at least saved him from serious harm, and he made sure that everyone knew that.
The last thing she needed was to be scolded for retrieving the weapon, which Rydberg was likely to do.
She was one brave, kick-ass woman, and needed to be reminded of that, not admonished for it.
But he left out a crucial fact. Summer had flipped out when she’d seen him bleeding, but he didn’t know why.
She’d run away like she’d seen a ghost. At least she hadn’t gone far, only to the front of the house, where she’d stumbled across Paige, where he found her a few moments later crouched over the body.
Everything had happened quickly then, with sirens and flashing lights filling the air as first one, and then a second unit arrived, taking charge of the scene.
An ambulance had shown up shortly after, paramedics fussing over him and Summer, making sure their wounds weren’t life-threatening.
Which he already knew his wasn’t, because it was what he’d been trying to explain to Summer before she took off.
Yes, Nathan’s blade had punctured his skin, but he was able to deflect the blow enough that it wasn’t deep, and had pierced none of his major organs.
But even after this explanation, she’d refused to make eye contact for the rest of the night.
It was all plain weird, and he was hoping to get the truth out of her once everyone had left.
He wanted to understand how she could go from being so lionhearted one minute—ignoring her own pain to pick up a gun and point it at her abductor without a second’s hesitation—to a blubbering, terrified wreck of a woman the next.
She’d refused to go into a hospital bed of her own, preferring to sit in his room with him after his wound had been cleaned and stitched, while he was being debriefed. Rydberg had tried to have her removed, but M?rten had made it clear she was to stay; otherwise, they would get nothing from him.
At last, the nurse stopped fussing and left the room. They were finally alone. It must be nearly two in the morning. It’d been an endless day, and the pain meds were making him drowsy. But there was no way he was going to sleep just yet. Not without talking to Summer first.
She was still wearing her Lycra suit, but someone had draped a police-issue jacket over her shoulders.
Summer was beautiful, despite the fact that her hair was a mess of tangles, her right eye was bloodshot, and her left eye was bruised and swollen shut where Nathan had beaten her.
Her left arm was indeed broken near the wrist; it’d been splinted and was resting in a sling tied around her neck.
His gaze traveled down her body, documenting her long, lithe legs pulled up into her chest as she sat staring out the window at the city lights below.
No matter how damaged, she was still the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen.
He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her until the world stopped spinning.
Until she looked at him like she had the other night when they’d made love under the stars.
He knew that wasn’t what she wanted, however, and so he let her sit alone, lost in her own thoughts.
Jacob’s flight from Seattle was due to land soon.
Even though his trip was mostly a wasted one now, M?rten wanted to see his old friend, and hoped he wouldn’t turn straight around and head back to America.
It’d be good to talk everything that’d happened through with somebody he trusted explicitly.
Get Jacob’s opinion on the repercussions of this mission.
M?rten knew he’d let emotions drive him tonight, and although he hadn’t technically disobeyed a direct order, and the outcome had been favorable in the end, there were many, many things that he’d done wrong.
Rydberg had made it clear there would be an inquiry into his actions and his decision-making.
This would be the second internal review M?rten had been involved with in less than a year.
It wouldn’t look good on his file. Hopefully, Jacob would be a firm ally in the coming few days, because M?rten was going to need someone on his side if he were to get through this unscathed.
Summer shifted in her seat, and M?rten’s laser focus veered to her once more. “Paige didn’t deserve to die,” she said in a small voice.
“No, she didn’t,” he agreed, trying not to show how relieved he was. At least she was talking, even if her gaze remained fixed outside the window.
He was desperate to touch her, so he patted the bed hopefully. “Will you come and sit with me?”
She turned and stared at him for many long seconds, eyes hollow and unreadable.
Then slowly, painfully, she uncurled her legs and walked barefoot over to his bed.
He patted the bed again, and after another moment’s hesitation she climbed up awkwardly so that she was nestled in the crook of his arm, resting her head against his chest. At first she was rigid and stiff, but he curled his arm around her shoulder, careful not to jostle her broken arm, and pulled her in tighter, letting her know with his body that she was safe.
It took a few moments, but at last she relaxed into him, emitting a sigh of release.
His heart joggled agonizingly in his chest. It felt like she’d just given him something precious, something he needed to cherish. Her trust.
“Nathan will be charged with her murder, along with your kidnapping. He’ll go to jail for a long time,” he mumbled into her hair.
He knew it was no real comfort to Summer, because her friend was still dead.
And even though the girl had had misguided intentions, she wasn’t inherently evil, unlike her colleague.
But at least Nathan could no longer hurt Summer; he’d pay with the rest of his life for what he’d done.
“Hmm,” she murmured in reply. “So, what happens now?” she asked, half-lifting her head from his chest.
“Well, Jacob will be here soon and we can try to figure out the motivation behind your kidnapping,” M?rten replied, his mind already drifting to the questions they might put to Nathan.
Why had they abducted Summer? They still didn’t know how she was connected to the eco-terrorists’ plans.
Surely, they hadn’t taken her out of pure revenge?
And why had they gone to the trouble of making the FBI believe it was Tyrone who was traveling to Sweden in the first place?
Tyrone who’d carried out the snatch and grab.
“No, I mean, can I go back to Seattle?” She lifted her broken arm into the air. “I won’t be able to compete in the triathlon with this. So, if I’m not needed here, I may as well leave. I want to go home,” she added almost in a whisper.
“Oh, right.” M?rten hadn’t thought that far ahead, had virtually forgotten about the triathlon.
He’d been so focused on finding Summer and saving her that any future past tonight was simply not on his radar.
And even then his mind was fixed on building the case against the eco-terrorist, ensuring Nathan would not get away.
Catching the perpetrator was merely the start; there’d be court cases and lawyers, and media scrums, days and weeks of logging evidence and paperwork.
Liaising with Jacob and the FBI, as well as the Washington State police, to make sure all the facts were airtight.
There’d be month’s worth of work to do yet.
The idea of Summer might leave him to go back to America hit him like a blast of cold air.
It had never even occurred to him she might want to go home.
It was too soon, wasn’t it? They needed more time together.
With the clarity born from imminent loss, he suddenly knew he didn’t want her to go.
He wanted her here, by his side, and the thought of not having her was too much to bear.
He’d come to care for this complicated woman deeply.
She was his opposite in almost every way; they had nothing in common.
She held her cards close to her chest and often kept him at bay with her thorny exterior.
Her world was one of schedules and rules, and she seemed happy with her solitary existence, where she could control everything and everyone in her life.