Chapter Sixteen
Grace stirred at the sound of sleet pattering against the window, the icy rhythm pulling her from sleep.
The room was dark, hushed except for Beck’s steady breathing at her back. His arm rested lightly against her, careful of her injuries even while he slept. That was so like him—protective, thoughtful, the kind of man who carried the weight of others on his shoulders.
Her body relaxed into the warmth of him, comforted in a way she hadn’t felt in years. She thought about what had happened between them hours earlier, about the heat that had boiled over and the tenderness that had followed. She wasn’t sorry. Not for a second.
But she couldn’t ignore the truth either.
It complicated everything. Crossing that line with Beck wasn’t just about the fire between them.
It never had been. It was about the bond they’d built through battles and scars, through moments that broke and rebuilt them both.
Being with him hadn’t felt like a want. It had felt like a need, something vital that she couldn’t keep denying.
Grace exhaled softly, careful not to wake him, and stared into the dark. She should be thinking about Elena, Jonah, Silas, Denny, and the web of danger closing in around them. But instead, all she could think about was the man beside her and the truth she’d kept locked away.
She still loved him.
Beck stirred against her, pressing a slow kiss to the back of her neck. His voice was low, rough with sleep. “What are you doing awake?”
She smiled faintly, still staring into the dark. “How did you know I was?”
“The rhythm of your breathing changed,” he murmured.
Grace wanted to roll over and face him, to touch him, to kiss him, but her arm and side wouldn’t allow that kind of movement. Instead, she carefully maneuvered onto her back. Beck shifted with her, easing away just enough so he didn’t brush against her sore side.
When she turned her head toward him, his mouth was already there.
The kiss was soft, unhurried. Comfort, not fire. The warmth of it slipped through her chest, settling into all the cracks left by fear and exhaustion. For the first time in hours, she thought she could actually fall back asleep.
Then her phone shrilled on the nightstand. Both of them groaned, Beck muttering a curse as he rolled onto his back. Grace reached for the phone, her heart already kicking harder at the sight of the glowing screen.
Grace squinted at the screen, then answered. A woman’s voice came on the line, brisk but laced with worry. “This is Nurse Evelyn Hart from Crossfire County Hospital. I’m calling about Jonah Kemp.”
Grace stiffened, her grip on the phone tightening. “What about Jonah?”
“He arrived in our ER not long ago,” Evelyn said. “He’s unstable, and the doctor doesn’t expect him to make it through the night.”
The words settled like ice in Grace’s chest. Beck shifted upright beside her, his eyes narrowing on her face as if he could already sense the blow.
Evelyn’s voice softened. “Mr. Kemp said he wants to see you both. He told us he has something to confess before he dies.”
Grace’s pulse hammered, her thoughts scattering. A confession. Jonah, finally ready to give them the truth.
But what truth exactly?
Was he ready to confess that he’d been the one who’d tried to kill them? Or was this about something else?
Grace ended the call, her hand trembling slightly as she lowered the phone. She looked at Beck, who was already pushing back the covers.
“It could be a trap,” he said, voice low and edged with caution.
“Or it could be the truth,” Grace answered. She wasn’t sure which worried her more.
That was all the discussion they needed. They climbed out of bed and began pulling on their clothes, moving quickly but with the quiet urgency that came from years of field work. Beck helped her with the vest when her arm twinged, his touch efficient but protective.
By the time they were geared up, Beck was already thumbing out a message to Noah. A moment later, his phone buzzed with a reply. “Noah’s sending Cal to meet us at the county hospital,” Beck said.
Grace nodded, heart racing. Whether it was Jonah’s last words or another ambush waiting for them, they had to go.
They stepped out into the bitter cold, sleet needling their skin as they hurried to the Crossfire Ops van parked in front of Beck’s cabin. The world looked glazed in ice, headlights cutting through the misty sheen of it as Beck steered them onto the road.
The county hospital was nearly twenty miles away, and Grace’s thoughts churned with every mile. Why had Jonah turned up there of all places? His home was in San Antonio. Nothing about it made sense.
The roads were a nightmare, slick with frozen slush that made the van shudder in places, and Beck kept a firm grip on the wheel, jaw tight.
Her phone rang. Isla.
Grace answered, and Isla’s voice came quick and a little wry. “Yeah, I was working late. So was Noah. I was in his office when he got Beck’s text.”
Beck cut a glance at Grace, then at the phone. “Don’t you sleep?”
“Sleep’s overrated,” Isla shot back. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with Denny, but he’s not answering. Same for Silas. Same for Elena. All three are ghosts right now.”
The unease that had been building in Grace twisted harder.
Isla continued, “You two need to be careful. If Jonah really is at that hospital, fine. But if this is a lure, then one of the others might be close by, waiting.”
Beck’s hands flexed against the wheel. “We’ll be careful.”
Grace added, “We’ll keep our eyes open.”
The line clicked off, leaving only the sound of sleet on the windshield and the hum of the tires fighting the ice. Grace leaned back, her pulse ticking fast. This could be the break they needed. Or it could be the worst trap yet.
Beck kept the van steady, though twice the tires skidded across slick patches, forcing him to work the wheel and keep them from sliding off onto the shoulder.
Grace gripped the seat, her heart climbing into her throat until the tires caught and they were moving straight again.
The storm seemed to follow them, ice rattling against the windows like a warning.
At last, the glow of the county hospital came into view, its squat building hunkered against the cold.
The place wasn’t large. A modest ER connected to a cluster of clinics, and a single hallway of patient rooms meant for those who needed overnight monitoring.
It wasn’t the kind of facility that handled serious or complicated cases.
Patients like that would be transported to one of the larger hospitals in nearby San Antonio.
Which made Grace wonder. Why was Jonah here and not already transferred?
The thought slid over her, heavy and unsettling.
Maybe he had refused. She recalled the bitterness in his voice when he had said he didn’t trust doctors or hospitals, when he’d snarled at Beck, insisting that he be the one to treat him after they’d rescued him from that trailer.
That memory pressed in on her now, dark and sharp, and her stomach tightened.
Beck parked the van close to the sliding ER doors. Grace sat still for a moment, watching her own breath fog the window, wondering what kind of truth, or lie, was waiting inside.
“No sign of Cal,” she muttered.
Beck made a sound of agreement and fired off a text to Cal, instructing him to meet them inside. He got a quick reply that he showed to her.
My SUV skidded off the road and I’m in the ditch. Noah is sending another vehicle. Will get to you when I can.
So, they didn’t have immediate backup, and she looked at Beck to see if that was going to stop him from going inside. It wasn’t. He got out of the van.
Grace stepped out, too, pulling her coat tight against the bitter air.
The sleet stung her face as she scanned the lot.
Nothing but a couple of other cars, the shadows of the trees swaying beyond the floodlights.
Still, she couldn’t shake the prickling unease along her neck.
Beside her, Beck’s gaze swept the area, just as cautious, before they both moved toward the hospital entrance.
Inside, the shift in temperature was immediate, the cold replaced with a blast of overworked heat.
The room was stark, its cream-colored walls lined with a dozen chairs that sat empty.
A few old magazines were scattered across the low table in the center, untouched.
The hum of fluorescent lights filled the silence.
At the reception desk sat a young man in pale blue scrubs, his focus bent on his phone. The electronic chirps and clicks of some game spilled faintly from the speaker. When Beck and Grace stepped closer, the man glanced up, his brows lifting as if surprised to see anyone at all.
“You hurt?” he asked, sliding the phone aside but leaving it lit on the counter.
“No,” Beck said. “We’re here to see a patient. Jonah Kemp.”
The man frowned. “Visiting hours ended hours ago. You’ll have to come back at nine in the morning.”
Grace straightened. “A nurse called us. Evelyn Hart. She asked us to come.”
That made him shift. His eyes darted toward the double doors leading to the ER, and when they came back to her, there was a twitch of unease in his expression.
“That’s… that’s my boss.” His voice dropped as if he wasn’t sure he should be admitting it.
“Don’t mention that the doors were unlocked.
I was supposed to lock them at midnight, but my girlfriend’s bringing me dinner.
I didn’t want to make her stand out in the sleet. ”
Grace and Beck traded a quick glance, the tension sharpening in the air.
The young man scraped his chair back and stood, fumbling with a key. He hurried over to the glass doors and twisted the lock until it clicked into place. When he turned back, he gestured toward a side door with a narrow window. “The nurses’ station is down that hall. Evelyn’s probably there.”
Beck pushed open the door and held it as Grace slipped into the hall.
The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and something metallic underneath, a tang that made her throat tighten.
The linoleum floors gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and the bare cream-colored walls reflected the glow in a way that made the place feel stark and hollow.
The hall stretched out ahead of them with four closed doors on each side, no sound coming from behind any of them. Grace’s boots echoed faintly as she walked, Beck’s steps a steady counterpoint beside her. Her shoulders tensed with every door they passed, half expecting one to open.
At the end of the hall, a small nurses’ station came into view. The desk was neat, with a stack of files on one side and a computer screen glowing faintly in sleep mode. But the chair was empty. Grace slowed, glancing at Beck. She opened her mouth to call out—
The lights snapped off all at once, plunging them into pitch darkness.