Page 28 of Protected


  “Oh, my baby.” Hannah pushed to her feet and moved to Kelsey’s side. She slid one hand over Kelsey’s on the bed, and the other along her hair as she’d done when Kelsey was a kid. “You’re awake. How do you feel?”

  Kelsey blinked again as Rusty moved to the foot of her bed, confused as to why they were asking. “Fine, I guess. What’s going on?”

  “You’ve been out of it for two days.” Rusty shoved his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans. “Mom’s been freaking out even though she told all of us there was no reason to be worried.”

  “I was not freaking out.” Hannah sat on the edge of Kelsey’s bed and glared at her son, then looked back at Kelsey with a playful frown. “He exaggerates. I knew you’d be fine. Your body just needed time to get rid of all those drugs.”

  “Drugs?” Glancing past them, she took in her surroundings. An older, square TV was perched on a shelf high across the room. Below the TV, a whiteboard with words scribbled in green was affixed to the wall. A small window sat to her left. Behind her were machines she could only barely see, and to her right, a closed drape, which she instinctively recognized from all the times she’d joined her mom on rounds at the hospital when she was a little girl. “Wh-what happened?”

  “Foster injected a drug cocktail into your system just after you hit the button to open the safe room.” Her mom ran a gentle hand down her hair again, using the calming doctor voice Kelsey knew meant things had been worse than she was letting on. “We were lucky the needle was found at the scene so the doctors knew exactly what you were given.”

  A wave of memories rushed into Kelsey’s brain, and with it a blinding fear that shot her heart rate straight up. “Foster?”

  “Dead.” There was no mistaking the pleasure in Rusty’s voice. “Hunt hit him square in the chest as soon as the door opened. Fucker’s lucky he was already dead before I got ahold of him.”

  Hannah glared up at her son. “Rusty McClane. Language? And that kind of talk is not helping right now.”

  “Whatever. It’s true, though. And the language is warranted on a piece of shit like that. She knows what I’m talking about.”

  Kelsey’s stomach rolled because her brother was right. She’d seen into Trey Foster’s mind when she’d been trapped with him. She’d seen how unbalanced he was, how vengeful, and she knew he was never going to stop blaming her for something she had no control over. But she didn’t like thinking that he was dead because of her. “He . . .” She swallowed back the bile. “I think he was my brother. Half brother.”

  “No, I’m your brother,” Rusty said with conviction. “Me and Alec and Ethan and Thomas. We’re the only brothers you need.”

  She looked up at him. Saw the absolute conviction in his dark eyes. And slowly felt her heart rate come down. “You’re right.”

  He didn’t respond. But his clenched jaw and focused gaze made her remember how he’d been the one to go after Hunt at her parents’ house when he thought Hunt had taken advantage of her. Remembered, also, all the times he’d looked like he’d wanted to go after Julian. Of all her brothers, Rusty was her fiercest champion. Not because she was closer to him than the others, she knew, but because of what had happened to his biological sister when he’d been just a kid.

  “You’re right,” she repeated, reaching for his hand. He moved to the other side of her bed and closed his fingers around hers. And as she felt the strength and warmth in his grip, she smiled, wanting to tell him how much he meant to her, knowing at the same time if she tried, he’d just back away. That was the way with Rusty. He was fiercely protective but a total loner. He always had been.

  She blinked back the wave of emotions. “And what about my other brothers? Is Hunt with them?”

  “Um . . .” Rusty glanced toward their mom.

  Confused, Kelsey looked at her mom too. Hannah smiled and patted her hand on the bed. “Oh, your brothers. Thomas was starving again so they took him to the cafeteria. I swear that boy never stops eating.” She laughed, but something about it sounded off to Kelsey. Nervous. Her mom glanced toward Rusty. “He’s worse than all three of you put together. I think he’s hit another growth spurt. In a couple weeks he’ll probably be taller than all of you too.”

  “In his dreams,” Rusty muttered.

  “You’d best be careful. Your father was showing him some of his old wrestling moves. Thomas is strong.”

  “I can still take him.”

  Kelsey wasn’t sure what was going on, but the conversation felt forced, and she had the distinct impression something was going on. “Where is Hunt? And where’s Dad? I want to talk to—”

  “I’m right here.” The curtain pulled back, and Kelsey’s dad stepped into the room with a bright smile and two steamy cups of what smelled like coffee. “And there’s my beautiful girl.”

  He handed the coffee to Hannah, then moved to the side of Kelsey’s bed and leaned down to hug her.

  A ridiculous wave of tears filled her eyes as Kelsey sat up and wrapped her arms around her father, trying not to get the stupid IV tube caught in the process. She was a full-grown woman who’d never needed a father’s approval, but with him she’d always wanted it.

  “It’s good to see you awake,” he said into her hair. “You had us all worried, pumpkin.”

  She held on tighter, fighting back the tears. He’d called her pumpkin from the moment she’d come to live with them, and though she’d loved it, she’d never felt as if she deserved it. One of her biggest regrets about her marriage to Julian was that she’d known that relationship had disappointed him. “I’m fine.” She sniffled. “I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sorry.”

  He drew back and swiped at her cheeks. “You didn’t do anything wrong so don’t apologize. We were worried because we love you.”

  “I know.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Everything’s going to be okay now.”

  While her mother and brother spoke quietly about something Kelsey barely paid attention to, she released her dad and let him fix the pillows at her back so she could sit up higher. “So where are we?” she asked, interrupting them. “The hospital in Seaside?”

  “No.” Her mother sipped her coffee while Rusty set his on the table behind him. “Portland. You were flown here.”

  That made sense since her mom was a doctor and could arrange it all.

  She glanced toward the door, wondering when Hunt and her brothers were coming back. She was anxious to see him. He’d obviously called the police and paramedics and gotten her help right away. Had he already talked to the cops? She needed to tell him everything Foster had admitted to her.

  “There is something we need to talk about,” Michael said, moving to stand next to his wife and placing a hand on her shoulder. “An Officer Callahan’s been by a few times to talk to you, but you were still out.”

  “He’s Hunt’s friend. He knows all about the Fosters. Does he need to question me?”

  “No,” her father said hesitantly. “Not about Foster. The cops have everything they need about that case, though I’m sure they will want to talk to you at some point when you’re feeling better.”

  Kelsey’s brow lowered. Hunt must have heard everything then and already told them. She hadn’t been sure she’d hit the right button on the control panel to turn on the intercom. “What did he want then?”

  “To tell you he has the DNA results from the test you submitted in California. He’s been in contact with the attorneys you met with there.”

  Kelsey’s mouth grew dry, and her heart sped up all over again, this time with a different kind of fear.

  “Do you want to know?” her mother asked.

  “Do you know?”

  Her parents looked at each other, then back at her. “Yes,” her father said. “Since it’s part of the criminal investigation, we were told.”

  Guilt hit her hard. Guilt that she hadn’t told them she was submitting a DNA test to find out if Vivienne Armstrong was her biological mother or not.

/>   Her mom rubbed a hand over her leg under the covers. “It doesn’t change anything for us, Kelsey. You’re still our daughter just as Alec’s still our son. We want you to know who your birth parents are if you want to know.”

  She was right. Alec had found his birth parents, and they were now part of his life. And it hadn’t changed Hannah and Michael’s relationship with him at all. If anything, it had strengthened their bond and made him appreciate them even more. But this was different. They’d helped him find his birth parents.

  “I’m sorry you found out this way. I should have told you about the test, I just—”

  “We don’t care about that.” Michael cut her off with a sharp look. “We care about you. That’s it. No more apologies.”

  Tears filled her eyes again. Tears she hated because she was not usually this emotional. She nodded. Took a deep breath. Then said, “Okay, tell me. What did the test say?”

  Her mother squeezed her knee. “It confirmed that Vivienne Armstrong was your birth mother. That’s it. Nothing more.”

  Kelsey blinked, feeling . . . nothing. Absolutely nothing. Which felt like an even bigger weight brushed off her shoulder than her divorce from Julian.

  “It also gives Trey Foster and Catarina Brunelli motives for trying to kill you,” her father added. “Sadly.”

  “Catarina Brunelli? She was really involved?”

  Her mom nodded. “Apparently the mastermind behind the whole thing. Hunt found out while you were in the safe room. He had everything relayed to Callahan. Brunelli was arrested before you were even taken to the hospital.”

  Kelsey pressed her fingers against her suddenly throbbing temple, still confused about Brunelli’s piece in all this but knowing she had plenty of time to find out. When her head didn’t hurt quite so much.

  “You’re about to inherit a shit-ton of money, little sis.”

  Hannah glared at Rusty.

  “What?” Rusty shrugged. “It’s true.”

  It was true. Holy hell. “I don’t care about the money.”

  “We know you don’t.” Hannah patted her leg. “Which means you’ll do something good with it. Everything will get worked out. All you need to do is focus on feeling better.”

  “That and getting back to normal,” her father added. “God knows we could use some normal in this family.”

  “Absolutely,” her mother agreed.

  “There is no normal now with Thomas around,” Rusty mumbled. “Do you know he swiped my socks when I stayed at the house last night?”

  “He swipes mine all the time,” their father said with a sigh. “And puts holes in the toes. I think his feet are growing again.”

  While her family launched into a discussion about Thomas’s feet, Kelsey glanced toward the door again. The door Hunt still hadn’t come through. Where the heck was he? Why wasn’t he here? She knew he’d been frantic to get to her when she’d been locked in that safe room with Foster. Why hadn’t he been sitting at her side, waiting for her to wake up?

  “Relationships never work out.”

  Hunt’s words from the rubble slammed into her, and in a rush of fear she remembered his story about his dad, how losing his mom had destroyed him and how Hunt had avoided relationships because he didn’t want to end up that way. Followed by Hunt’s admission to her the other night when he’d told her he loved her and how losing her would gut him.

  She swallowed hard, for the first time she wondering if he wasn’t here because it had all become way too real for him when she’d been hurt.

  Her heart twisted hard. So hard it felt as if it might rip right in two. Followed by a wave of anger if he really had backed away from her because he was scared. She was scared too, dammit. He’d told her he wouldn’t leave her.

  “Where is he?” When her parents stopped talking to Rusty and looked her way, she said, “Why isn’t he here? He said he wouldn’t leave.”

  The room went eerily quiet. Her parents looked at each other. Rusty glanced down at his feet.

  She sat forward in the bed, fighting back another rush of tears, these hotter than before. “Someone say something right now. Where is Hunter? Did he go back to his house?”

  Her mother reached for her hand. “Relax, honey.” She smoothed her fingers over the back of Kelsey’s hand and used that aggravating calm doctor voice again, the one that made Kelsey want to scream. “No, he’s not at his house. He’s . . .” Her mom glanced up her dad with a helpless look.

  Kelsey looked to her dad, her frustration growing by the second. “Tell me what’s going on. If he’s not at his house, and he’s not here, then where is he?”

  Her father moved close and patted her knee, a sad look on his weathered face. “Hunter is here, he just . . . can’t be here in this room.”

  That made absolutely no sense. She looked to Rusty, knowing he of all people would tell her the truth. “What’s going on?”

  Rusty sighed. “Hunt was shot.”

  Oh God . . . Her lungs seized. “What?”

  “Foster got a round off before Hunt took him down.”

  Hannah McClane glared at her son.

  “What?” Rusty said. “She has a right to know. You can’t protect her from this.”

  “Where?” Kelsey demanded, already knowing it had to be bad for this kind of reaction. “How bad?”

  “In the abdomen,” her mother answered. “On the left side. It ruptured his spleen. Luckily, Hunter had already called the police, and they were already on scene, so paramedics were able to stabilize him so he could be airlifted to Portland.”

  What her mother was describing sounded like the best possible scenario. And yet she couldn’t stop thinking about the fact he’d been shot. Because of her.

  When she tried to pull her hand back, her mother only held her tighter. “He’s going to be okay, Kelsey. It was touch and go for a little while, but he’s doing better. He’s in ICU now and will probably be moved to intermediate care soon. It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

  Not as bad as it sounds . . .

  It was worse. He’d almost died because of her. Was enduring horrible pain because of her. She knew how bad abdominal wounds could be. Her mother was a trauma surgeon. She’d heard too many of her mom’s ER stories about abdominal gunshot wounds not to know what he was suffering. Because of her.

  “If you want to go see him right now,” her mom said, “I can make that happen.”

  She did want to see him. She desperately wanted to see him. But she was suddenly terrified. What would he say? Would he blame her? Julian would blame her. All those old neuroses she’d been fighting for so long came raging back to pummel her self-confidence from every direction.

  Pulling her hand back, she rolled to her side and tugged the blankets up to her chin.

  “I-I’m feeling really tired right now. I need to sleep. Maybe I can see him in a little while. When I’m not so tired?”

  Silence met her ears. A deafening silence she hated because she knew they were all thinking the same thing she was. That she was a complete disappointment. Again.

  A hand brushed her back, then her mom said, “Okay, honey. If that’s what you want. We’ll be back in a little while.”

  Kelsey didn’t answer. Just listened to the sound of their steps leaving. And when the door finally closed behind them, she let the tears fall.

  Hunt wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep this time, but when he woke, he was in a different room than he’d been in last time. And the person sitting at the side of his bed still wasn’t Kelsey.

  “Hey, Dad.” Telling himself she was still probably groggy from the drugs Foster had given her, he shifted as best he could in the bed to get comfortable. Unfortunately, there was no comfort to be found in a hospital bed. The thin mattress felt like it was made of cardboard.

  “Here, son.” His dad pushed to his feet and fixed Hunt’s pillow. “Better?”

  “Yeah.”

  His dad sat back in his seat, his white hair catching the light coming in through t
he windows. “This is a nice room.”

  It was. A corner room with a great view down the hill toward the city and the river. And thank God it had its own bathroom. Not having one in ICU had sucked. “Did you get something to eat when I was asleep?”

  “Yeah. I had a sandwich. The hospital cafeteria here isn’t too bad. You worry about me too much, though. Need to be worrying about yourself right now.”

  He’d always worried about his dad. That was nothing new. “I’ll be okay. Just a flesh wound.”

  His father frowned, which for some insane reason made Hunt chuckle. Then regret it when pain stabbed into his side.

  His dad tensed and leaned forward. “You okay? Do you need the nurse?”

  “No.” He waved his hand, shifting the IV tubing stuck into his vein. “I’ll be . . . fine. Just hurts a little. Thank God for pain . . . meds.”

  “Yes, they definitely help. Sometimes.”

  Silence settled over the room as his father leaned back in his seat. As the pain dissipated, Hunt looked over his father, noticing he looked tired and old. Older than the last time Hunt had seen him, which had only been a few weeks ago. Hunt knew what happened to him hadn’t been easy on his dad, but nothing was easy on his dad. Nothing had been easy for the man since before his mom had died.

  Memories of Kelsey locked in that room with a madman rushed through his mind, followed by the helplessness he’d felt at not being able to get to her. It was the same helplessness his dad had endured when his mom had been standing next to that car as it had blown. Except in Hunt’s case, Kelsey was still alive—thankfully alive—whereas things had ended tragically for his mom . . . and his dad.

  “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you over the years,” Hunt said, his throat thick with an emotion he didn’t expect. “I know how hard it was for you to lose Mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t easier to deal with when I was a teenager. Even when I was older.”

  His dad’s brow wrinkled. “What made you say that?”

  “Life. What happened.” He shrugged, then ground his teeth because even that small movement made his side hurt. “I just keep thinking about Kelsey and what I’d be like right now if things had gone the other way. This gunshot wound is nothing compared to the pain I’d be in if I knew she was gone for good.”