Belle hooked her purse across her body and fished her keys out before she’d even left the maternity ward. She put her keys into the front pocket of her blue scrubs then pressed the red button that opened the security doors.
Her first day back to work and almost a week after her harrowing attack and she was starting to feel semi-normal. She’d had dinner at Grant’s every night this week and even stayed over a couple nights—in his
guest
room. He’d been very hands-off ever since last Saturday and while she appreciated his gentleness she was also getting a little frustrated.
Thanks to the insane security system Grant had had installed at her place, the nights she’d slept in her own home had been fairly peaceful. She’d woken up a few times from a nightmare but they were nothing a giant bowl of chocolate ice cream couldn’t fix. She hadn’t told her family or even her best friend about the attack. Instead she’d used moving in to her new home as an excuse to stay off the radar from everyone. Her mom had called once about Paulos Balis, wanting to know why the police had questioned him, but once she’d explained the situation her mom had gone freaking postal. Not on her, of course. And it had gotten her mom to back off with the phone calls this week which had been a miracle in itself. Belle figured her mom felt guilty for always trying to push Paulos on her.
A tiny part of her felt guilty for not telling her family what had happened but it would have created an avalanche of sympathy. Her family members would have descended on her house like locusts and it would have been even more stressful. She was incredibly grateful she had so many people who loved and cared about her, but she was tired of being treated like she was helpless. She’d tell them later once enough time had passed that they wouldn’t worry.
Belle’s sneakers squeaked against the tile as she made her way to the elevators. Her feet were more sore than usual, probably from when she’d kicked them against the pool wall, but at least they were mostly healed. Right now visions of wine, a hot bath and seeing Grant played in her head. She just wanted to get out of the hospital and the elevator was taking its sweet time. Under normal circumstances she liked to take the stairs, but after her attack she felt wary about even that. She hated that some deranged stranger had that kind of power over her life.
As the elevator dinged, her cell phone rang in her purse. When she saw Grant’s number pop up, she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.
“New boyfriend?” Brent, a male nurse she was friends with, asked as he stepped into the elevator with her.
Sliding the phone into her front pocket instead of answering, she could feel her cheeks heating up. Lord, was she that obvious? “Uh, not exactly.” Okay, not at all. She wasn’t sure what she and Grant were. They’d spent every night over the past week hanging out, talking and getting to know one another. And the man could certainly cook. He gave her all sorts of hot looks that told her he was interested in being more than friends, but he still didn’t make a move. She’d already thrown herself at him once when she’d kissed him and she wasn’t doing it again. She had
some
pride. The man was just so confusing.
Brent snorted and pressed the button for the ground floor. “I recognize that type of smile. You are so seeing someone.”
Belle shrugged but couldn’t fight her grin. Tonight she was going to ask Grant what was going on with them and what he wanted from her. The sexual frustration was likely to kill her otherwise.
She said a quick goodbye to Brent then grabbed her phone and pressed one of her speed dials—yeah, she knew she was in trouble now that he was on her speed dial.
Grant picked up on the first ring. “Hey, honey.”
And he called her honey! The man was clearly trying to kill her with all these mixed signals. “Hey yourself. You off work?”
“Just pulled into the driveway. Want to come over for dinner?” His deep voice rolled over her like liquid sin.
She wanted to come over for a lot more than dinner. “Why don’t we go out tonight? We can go to eat, maybe see a movie afterward?”
There was a moment of tense silence. Grant cleared his throat. “Ah…”
An invisible weight pressed down on her chest. “Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” She hated that her voice cracked on the last word. Warm, humid air rushed over her as the sliding glass doors opened up into the east parking lot. Nurses and doctors thankfully got front row parking.
“How can you even ask that?”
“You haven’t asked me out once this week.”
“You were just attacked and almost killed!” He sounded incredulous.
“That’s not an answer.”
She could practically see him rubbing a hand over his face the way he did when he was annoyed. “Belle, you’re one of the funniest, most frustrating and yes, beautiful women I’ve ever met. There’s no way I could ever be
ashamed
of being with you. I don’t like the idea of taking you out in public until this lunatic is caught. I just want you safe.”
“Oh.” Her steps were silent as she weaved through the first row of cars. She was always vigilant about her surroundings but she still glanced around to make sure no one was following her.
“Have you…enjoyed the last week with me?” The hint of insecurity in his voice surprised her.
Her best friend would have told her to play coy, to hedge, but Belle couldn’t do it. She couldn’t play games with Grant. “Seeing you is the best part of my day. All I thought about at work today was hurrying home so I could spend time with you.” Saying the words out loud was a little scary because yeah, there was no mistaking what she meant.
The silence seemed to stretch on forever and she could feel her face flaming when he didn’t answer right away. She wished the ground would just open up and swallow her whole. She felt a presence behind her that hadn’t been there before. A blur came at her from behind one of the cars.
“Belle—”
Her phone flew out of her hand as someone yanked on her purse strap, spinning her back around. Since it was across her body, her entire body jerked. She vaguely heard her phone clattering to the pavement.
Two arms wrapped around her from behind in a steely grip. After what had happened to her last week, a new kind of rage she’d never experienced before shot through her.
Hell no.
Using a move she’d learned in one of her self-defense classes, she slammed her head back and connected with something hard.
Her attacker’s arms loosened as he cried out in pain. Without pause, she swiveled and turned with a raised elbow hoping to strike the guy again. As hard as she could, she slammed her elbow into the side of his head. It was a perfect shot and the only reason she got it in was because the guy had started to bend over from her first crack to his nose.
Pain shot up her arm from the sharp blow but the guy crumpled to the ground in a heap of dirty clothes, reeking of alcohol.
She started to run back toward the hospital when she spotted two familiar men sprinting toward her from a couple parking rows away. It was Travis and Vincent, the men who’d installed her security system. What was going on?
Travis spoke first. “Are you okay?”
“My elbow is throbbing but I’m fine… What on earth are you two doing here?”
The two men shot each other a look. Vincent’s pale blue eyes against his coffee-colored skin were a sharp, beautiful contrast and the guilt shining there was palpable.
Before they could answer, she said, “Don’t you dare lie to me. What’s going on?”
When the guy on the ground started groaning and stirred, Travis sprung into action and handcuffed his wrists behind his back. “We uh, we’ve been hired to watch you,” he muttered from his kneeling position, refusing to look at her.
So she narrowed her gaze at Vincent who blanched a little.
He cleared his throat. “Grant was worried about you going back to work today so—”
“He hired you to spy on me?”
And he hadn’t told her?
Travis jumped up at that. “No. He just wanted us to make sure you got home all right. That’s it.”
Belle knew she should be more focused on the guy who was likely a junkie or homeless man—or both—who had just attacked her, but he wasn’t going anywhere and her temper had just lit on fire. Her entire life she’d been coddled by her family and she actually appreciated Grant’s concern. Okay, more than appreciated it. She was damn grateful, but why all the secrecy? She wasn’t a child to be kept in the dark. “How long was this supposed to go on for?”
Vincent shifted from foot to foot, looking around the parking lot. “You should talk to Grant about that…Hey, I see security.” Before she could stop him, he was jogging toward a security guy driving a golf cart.
Her hands clenched into fists as it registered what Grant had done without telling her. Why would he keep something like that from her? She’d been able to take care of herself, but she could definitely appreciate the gesture. Just not all the secrecy.
Ignoring Travis, she searched the ground until she spotted her cell phone. By a miracle, the face of it wasn’t damaged. Since Travis had pulled out his phone and was already calling the police she texted Grant, telling him what had happened and that if he knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t meet her at the police station. She’d be home after she filled out a report and then they were definitely going to talk. She could handle over-protectiveness. The man was hardwired that way. But she couldn’t deal with lies or half-truths. Not from a man she wanted a relationship with. It would put them on unequal footing and that was never healthy. Right now she didn’t want to see him or even talk to him because she knew she’d lose her temper. Yep, letting her calm down was the best thing for both of them.
* * * * *
From the shadowed interior of his van he watched as the hospital security guy yanked the heroin addict he’d hired to attack Belle. Hire was a bit of a stretch. More like bribed with the promise of more drugs. The pretty nurse had certainly fought back, not that he’d expected any less.
Ever since his attack on her almost a week ago he’d done nothing but obsess about her, desperate for peeks of her. Originally she’d just been a means to an end. A way to target Grant Caldwell and bring the former detective back into their game. Ever since Caldwell’s accident, the detective had been holed up in his house, avoiding everyone and everything.
Toying with someone in that state of self-pity and loathing was beneath him. But now it was obvious Caldwell was back on his feet and ready to play again. Killing the neighbor had seemed the perfect way to rope him back in. He’d wanted to do more than kill her of course, but when he’d come back to scope out both their houses and seen her swimming all alone, the opportunity had been too good to pass up.
Across the parking lot she crossed her arms protectively around her waist and leaned against her car as the security guy hauled the junkie to his feet. He’d briefly contemplated taking her from the hospital but she worked in one of the most secure areas—which meant that he couldn’t take her from the inside. Belle took a step back from the junkie, scooting closer to the rear of the vehicle.
Holding him by his handcuffed wrists, the security guard guided the stumbling man to the golf cart where he forced him to sit. Then the same mohawked freak who’d shown up out of nowhere last week stood a foot from the handcuffed guy. He crossed his arms over his massive chest, making it clear that an attempt to flee would be monumentally stupid.
At least this evening hadn’t been a total loss. He’d discovered his main concern had been correct. Belle had bodyguards. It would make taking her more difficult, but not impossible.
And take her he would. He just had to wait, watch and strike when she was most vulnerable. Even though he enjoyed being so close to her without her knowledge, it was time to leave. He eased his van out of the parking spot and drove toward one of the exits like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Belle tapped her finger against Carlito Duarte’s desk. She’d signed her statement and the crappy cup of coffee he’d given her wasn’t much of an incentive to stick around. But he’d politely asked her to wait a moment while he’d gone somewhere with her statement.
Luckily the crime was pretty open and shut. Some junkie had tried to rob her. Idiot probably thought she was carrying hospital drugs or something. Or maybe he’d just wanted her money. Either way, one more addict was off the streets. Temporarily at least. After the events of last week, an attempted mugging was actually something she could emotionally deal with. Not that she was glad it had happened. But it was something she could wrap her mind around. Unlike the attack from before. An unwanted chill rolled through her at the thought but she locked the memory down tight. She just wanted to get this over with and go home.
As she started to glance around again, Carlito slid into his seat. His desk was one of about twenty in what he’d earlier called a bullpen. The giant room wasn’t very impressive. Just incredibly bland. Desks, corkboards, men and women in police uniforms or suits milled around. Since she’d arrived it had gotten busier. Almost as if after dark it was expected for crime to get worse. From what she could see that was true. There had been a steady stream of officers leading people in handcuffs past her.