Chapter 7 #2
As she walked away with pep in her step, I had to consider I was still suffering from whiplash of dealing with my entire family being in one place at one time.
I couldn’t remember the last time the whole family had been together.
I’d been a child and things hadn’t gone well.
In fact, there was no way my father or uncle would have considered clustering in one place had it not been for the fact the groom’s family had rented an island for the wedding.
And there’d been armed guards everywhere.
And I’d thought my parents were rich. Not only had the entire island been lush with foliage including olive trees and jasmine, but there had also been a huge castle that had been meticulously renovated.
Between the main near fortress and the half dozen other buildings, the island had been able to accommodate both families and members of the wedding party.
Thank God for speedboats or my claustrophobia would have been on high.
Great, my fabulous Italian vacation, which had been the first in four years, was being compared to a horror movie unfolding before my eyes.
Even with a meticulous overview of my life as of late, I continued heading toward the storage closet. In my mother’s kinder days, she’d often referred to me as a bloodhound since I never let anything go.
Which was why I was forced to accept that I wouldn’t stop until I discovered the source.
I was less than three feet from the door when I heard another noise, only this time it was hard, monotonous pounding.
As if someone with heavy feet was racing down the corridor from the direction of the elevators.
I stopped only a few feet from the door, trying to ascertain whether the person running was a doctor and a nurse had entered a Code Blue.
No, the usual slap-slap-slap of sneakers echoing wasn’t the source. The noise was much heavier.
Louder.
And with even more urgency than from someone flatlining.
I didn’t have time to reflect any further when someone bolted from the storage room, rushing toward me in a blur. However, a single movement caught the corner of my eye.
The person had a weapon in his hand.
In my mind, an entire story was played out. The dangerous-looking man headed in my direction was a vicious criminal, the person tracking him a police officer on the hunt.
The idea wasn’t so farfetched. How many times had a police officer chased a criminal into the emergency room, disturbing everything? It had happened a week prior to leaving for Italy, the criminal a man who’d robbed a liquor store, killing the clerk in the process.
The chaotic scene had turned bloody within seconds. That wasn’t going to happen again. Not with thirty-eight innocent patients on the floor.
“Hey!” I yelled, catching the gunman completely off guard. I’d barely been in his line of sight, the criminal glancing over his shoulder.
From that point, everything was presented as if in slow motion, the sudden surprise morphing into a much darker and deeper knowing that initiated a trickle of fear.
I could be in danger.
The realization was innate like breathing. If you ever find yourself in the presence of an assailant, do everything in your power to stop him. That will buy you some time to escape. I reacted in kind, moving towards him.
The man skidded to a stop, raising the arm holding the handgun. Jerking back, I crouched over and headed to the only weapon I had at my disposal.
The gurney.
As soon as I grabbed the metal edge and started to swing it around, a single shot was fired. When I was terrified, my throat was usually closed off, including this time. The only other sound made wasn’t a shriek but a slight poof, the gunman using a silencer.
I had one shot at stopping him. While I rarely had time to work out, especially with weights, that didn’t mean my upper torso, especially my arms weren’t muscular.
They were from lifting heavy patients when necessary.
Plus, I was extremely agile, which happened from half walking-half running my days at the hospital.
The gurney was awkward, but with the heavy pump of adrenaline, I managed to push it with everything I had. Between the force I used and the full run of the gunman, the rolling table smacked directly into him.
He was first pitched against the wall before tumbling to the floor, the weapon tossed from his hand.
While my competitive side allowed a solid whoop to erupt from my throat, another series of pounding footsteps coming from behind me kept the excitement to a minimum. I swung my head around, shocked to see two more men with guns, both dressed in black.
I was stuck in a thriller movie, the slow rolling moments keeping a band of icy tendrils flowing through my bloodstream.
With another swing of my head, I realized I was stuck between two different dangerous parties, both headed in my direction.
All three with their weapons raised.
The entire situation was a horrible blur of faces and fear, yet my instinct was intact, everything taught as a child lingering in Pandora’s Box in the back of my mind.
Fight or flight and I had nothing left to fight with.
Unless…
I threw myself onto the floor, grabbing the weapon. With a quick glance, I could easily see I’d managed to knock the one assailant out cold.
I’d toot my own horn if there wasn’t a chance I’d end up dead by the finish.
Think. Think. Think.
Every sound, including the thudding of my heart was ripped into a vacuum where echoes were constant. The wild pulse on the side of my neck made me crazy as fear turned into terror.
Shocked I could even move, I quickly realized there was only one chance of making it through this nightmare alive.
I bolted toward another door, throwing it open.
And just before I ran inside, hopeful of escaping, a strange series of vibrations tickled every muscle and every synapse.
The sense of knowing rushed through my mind, willing me to take another look toward the single gunman.
In the two seconds before I disappeared inside, we locked eyes. Even in the dim lighting, I could clearly see their color, iridescent emerald like the Aegean Sea. Both perfectly framed with long, whiskey-hued eyelashes skimming his cheeks.
I’d met only one man in my life with eye color so bold and so provocative, enough my muscles were tense.
What struck me first was that his jaw hadn’t seen a razor in two days, maybe longer. His face was a study in contrasts with a strong jaw, perfectly chiseled from solid granite. Soft, pink lips perfect for kissing.
The hard pulsing of electricity was intense, pulling at me in a way that shuttered the acts of violence.
But there was more.
A knowing. A need.
A dark craving.
Just like before. Just like when I’d allowed myself to let go.
Only that wasn’t possible, so I shut down the tickling sensations.
And ran for my life.