Chapter Six
Alanna jerked awake, her heart pounding in a horrid, panicked rhythm.
There was no ambient light in the room, but there was a night light over the door.
She took a quick inventory of the large white room and noted four beds, white canvas pull drapes for each, and pale blue walls.
There were no other people in the room, except her.
Chairs were strategically placed near the beds.
Her ears throbbed in time with her heart.
Shallow breathing wasn’t helping. Her gun gone along with her clothes, she was dressed in a beige paisley hospital gown.
Again. With only an olive green blanket over her – where the hell was she?
She hated falling asleep with no thought to safety.
It set off her fight or flight. Even in FBI training, she struggled between sleeping with her gun and not sleeping at all.
“I have you.” The whispered words shocked a harsh, ragged breath from her. She turned too fast, and her muscles objected in a painful chorus.
“Fucking hell.”
Quaid rose from the dark blue recliner on the back side of her bed. The chair didn’t match the hospital decor of the room, so Mr. Daniels had one moved in. As the boss, he didn’t belonged here either.
He flipped on a low light mounted under the bed frame. For a man who usually wore suits, the dark jeans were a new look. So was the black QM T-shirt.
She ignored the part of her brain that lectured her for not having searched the entire room for threats. “What are you doing here? Where am I?”
“QM’s medical bay.”
“Dr. Hunter’s back?”
“No, Drucker will manage until tomorrow.”
“I’m fine.”
“Your groan says otherwise.” His dry tone rubbed her snarky button.
“I’d rather sleep in my own quarters than in this open space.” She pulled the blanket closer. Body language was a bitch.
“I planned to move you to the fifth floor and a secure guest room, but you were already asleep.”
“I have quarters here. It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. Security has become a serious issue because…oh, wait for it. I got shot in the parking lot and you got blown through a glass window. Our guest suite has better placement in the building for protection. Currently, your name is on the room. Niles can help you shift when you’re ready.”
“Niles? Niles? You’re loaning me your butler?”
“He’s my body man. Different job descriptions. And he’s family. Be nice.”
Alanna huffed. She was a hard-assed FBI agent and had worked hard for that reputation. She had no nice to spare. “If I go, will you leave? Sleep horizontal in your own bed. You look like hell.”
Pain always loosened her control, but she never had a man in her room while in this state of undress. Had nothing to do with propriety and everything to do with trust and safety. “Why are you here anyway?”
“We’re a matched set until we catch this guy, Williams. Get used to it.” Quaid stepped back and sat. His phone out, his fingers danced across the screen. “He’ll be here in a minute.”
“You’re moving me now?”
“Yes.” The one thing she’d learned about Quaid is the more pissed he got, the shorter his answers were. Some men yelled, punched, hurt. He didn’t. He withdrew. So, yeah. She wasn’t in a great mood. The sound hit her…
“I heard you,” she whispered. “I heard you.”
His eyes rounded, then he grinned.
She increased her volume a bit, testing her ability.. “I heard you.” She laughed.
“Thank God.” He rubbed his eyes. “I was worried it wouldn’t happen.”
“Me, too. If truth be told.”
The bay door opened and Drucker strode in. The man wore black workout gear under a white medical coat. “Has anybody told you two it’s the middle of the night?”
“Actually, no. I have no idea what time it is.” Alanna couldn’t mask her relief and didn’t try.
Drucker came to her side. “I take it you can hear now.”
“It’s a bit muffled, but a whole lot better.”
He used a scope to check both ears, then spoke softly. “It’s the sleep in total quiet, the antibiotics, the pain killers, and the removal of all the debris. Going forward, keep to no loud noises. No bombs, no weapon firing, no loud televisions or music. Don’t push the boundaries.”
She sighed. “Kill joy.”
“Sorry. But it matters.”
Quaid rose and shoved the recliner away from the bed. “We’re moving her. Upstairs. Safer there. Okay?”
“If she promises more sleep and to call me when she wakes so I can check this again.”
Alanna nodded, not willing to antagonize anyone in her corner. Well, except maybe Quaid.
“Dr. Hunter should be here sometime late tomorrow.”
Quaid rubbed his face. “She’ll arrive sooner. It’s who she is. I need some sleep before I have to explain.”
Alanna planned to be far away when he confessed to the Hunters how he ransacked their house.
Niles arrived in a full black suit with a freshly pressed shirt. Drucker passed him with a flourish of ‘she’s all yours.’ The body man came to the end of the bed and waited for instructions.
Alanna found what little she had of manners. “Thank you for coming. What time is it?”
“It’s 0400, ma’am.”
“Let’s get her moved to 501.” Quaid’s gruffness was a counterpoint to Niles’s formality.
“Miss Elizabeth gave me instructions. It’s in progress.”
“Moving me is in progress?” The need for sleep overwhelmed her again. “Do you need my key card because I don’t have it.”
“No, Miss Elizabeth gave me a master. The goal is to get you moved and comfortable as soon as possible.”
“You’re going into my room, packing, and moving me?” Alanna had as much trouble with people touching her things as she did with wearing someone else’s clothes.
Quaid leaned in, his face in hard lines. “Yes. It’s necessary. He’ll take more care than your mother. So let’s find you a robe and a wheelchair and move.”
She wanted to argue. She had two feet and had walked in here, but the pain killers had carried the movement. Everything hurt. And energy was lacking, too. Still her gut twisted, and she wanted to fight to stand on her own.
“Sometimes, Williams, you have to trust the people around you. Let us take care of you. You’re one of us now. We usually do a better job of pulling new friends into our family. I’m sorry. We’ll get this right, I promise.”
His blue eyes fired with sincerity and drew her like a butterfly to a flower. She didn’t drop her defenses exactly, but the two men were trying. So could she. “You should take those contacts out. Your eyes need a rest,” she muttered.
Quaid pulled back in surprise.
“Yeah, I noticed. You should dye your hair back to classic Quaid, too. Blond doesn’t suit you.”
Quaid with his fierce frown wasn’t something she wanted to confront at the moment.
She eased to the side of the bed and shut her mouth.
Niles stepped to her and held up a white robe.
It wasn’t hers, but QM had supplies popping out of nowhere all the time.
“Miss Elizabeth anticipated your needs and asked me to take care of anything you wanted.”
Drucker came back with a wheelchair. “Get back to bed upstairs asap. No wheelies in the hall.”
Alanna shook her head, fully familiar with Remy St. Claire, QM’s fourth in command. “I have none of St. Claire’s habits. I did bet against him once, though.” Many of QM’s crew were outrageous in their off-time behavior. Remy’s wheelchair races were legendary.
Ty grinned. “Me, too. Lost. Don’t participate. I want my chair back in one piece.”
“I’ll take care of the return, Mr. Drucker.” Niles helped her with her robe and shifted her to the chair.
“You, I trust.” The man walked out.
“What about me? I’m the boss. I paid for the chair.” Quaid followed behind them, a position she was thankful for. She grinned at his whiny boy act without him seeing and silently sighed in relief.
He hadn’t asked about Whit.
&&&&&&&&&&
QM International Situation Brief: 08:00:00 PST 12/16 – San Diego HQ. Threat active. Security level 3 remains in effect. All divisions maintain heightened security for personnel, operations, and facilities. ?
Cait Hunter could have spent another week on her honeymoon.
No phones, no middle of the night Navy calls, no emergency surgeries – just the two of them.
Except Hunt was antsy to get back to work, and she was anticipating Marcus Delaney’s surgery to fix his arm and wanting to check in at QM. Some bridal couple they were.
Hunt swung his truck into their driveway behind her car, and stayed motionless to study the house. “Welcome home to Safe Harbor, Mrs. Hunter.”
Christmas decorations in many yards reminded her nothing was set for the holidays at their house, and the lack was not okay. She glanced over the front yard, planning and scheming, sweet contentment flowing through her. “We’re so lucky,” she whispered, his warm presence everything to her.
Hunt let out a deep sigh. “Yes, we are. I couldn’t imagine this. I’m glad I stuck with you.”
“I’m glad you stuck with me, too.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Let’s get inside and prolong the moment.”
Hunt grinned. “Wanna bet whose phone rings first?”
“No.” She covered her ears. “No hear, no answer.” She slipped her phone into her back pocket, grabbed her purse and cosmetic bag, then slid out of the truck.
Two kids wearing Santa hats raced by on bikes, screaming out their joy for all the world to hear. Cait waved at the two as they went by.
Hunt came around and took the bag from her. “So much for quiet.”
Cait took his hand. “Let the kids be kids.”
“I never had a bike at that age.”
She took his hand. “Do you even know how to ride one?”
Hunt raised his elitest Navy SEAL brow. “I learned in high school when I needed to get to school and to work without adult help. Paid forty bucks for the old blue banger.”
Cait hugged the little nugget close. Hunt didn’t talk about his past easily, and she hoarded those details like the finest treasure. “You’ll have to describe it for me. I want to draw it.”
Hunt’s eyes widened. “Why?”
“I’m obsessed with drawing you as a kid.” She took the walk to the front porch.
“I was never a kid.” He tipped his head to the street where the screaming continued. “Not like that.”