Darken (Siege #1) (8 page)

The car was generic enough, but something about it left her feeling uneasy. Something about it felt
off
.

The closer she got to home, the more frequent she checked her mirror. The car was still there, closer and her sense that something was off grew. She considered pulling over, but if the person in the car intended to hurt her, that would only make her a sitting duck.

Behind her, the car closed the distance between them. She sped up, and so did the other vehicle. She went over the hill and the bridge came into view. Her hands clenched the steering wheel as her stomach churned. Her foot pressed down on the gas, accelerating her toward the bridge.

She glanced again into the mirror. The driver behind her was so close she could make out his features. He was young, possibly in his mid-twenties, with dark hair and sunglasses. She’d never seen him before.

As she crossed over onto the bridge, it happened. He rammed into the back of her car. She lurched forward, jerking the steering wheel in response. Instinctively, her foot pressed down the accelerator and she flew across the bridge, fear tearing through her.

He hit her again as she crossed the end of the bridge and the impact sent her careening into the ditch. The front of the car slammed into a tree, crumpling the hood. A loud bang filled the air and something exploded, hitting her in the face.

Dazed, she straightened in her seat, coughing as some kind of dust or powder floated around her. Her door opened, and she tried to see who was there, but the dust and something dripping in her eyes blurred her vision. Whoever it was grabbed her arm in a painful grasp. She tried pulling away, but her seat belt kept her from moving. There was a sharp prick on her upper arm and then the hold was gone.

She turned off the car and then fumbled with the buckle until her seat belt popped free. She wiped her eyes and her hand came away covered with blood. Gingerly scooting out of the car, she glanced around for the other vehicle, but whoever hit her was long gone.

Turning her attention to her car, a groan escaped her as she took in the crumpled hood. It was totaled and she was a good ten miles from town. She was going to need a tow, and more than likely a ride to the hospital.

Chapter Eight

ADRENALINE IS A FUNNY thing. When the accident happened, it pumped through Cora’s veins giving her the strength to get out of the car, to call 911, and to make it to the bridge where she sat on beside the railing. But as it faded, she’d been left utterly drained, unable to even lift her arm and flag down the ambulance as it approached. Three hours later, adrenaline had been replaced by the constant ache in her head.

“Did you manage to find anyone to come pick you up?” the nurse inquired.

Cora started to shake her head then thought better of it. “No, not yet.”

She’d been trying her brother for the past thirty minutes, but it repeatedly went to voicemail. She left one message, keeping it light so he didn’t freak out. He might not come across as the most caring brother in the world, but he’d picked up Mom’s habit of panicking at the first hint of even a cold. The thought of calling her parents was even less appealing than having her brother come and hover over her.

“I’m going to a try friend,” she said and smiled at the nurse.

Giving up on her brother, she dialed Keeley’s number. It rang twice before Keeley picked up.

“Hey! Where are you?” Keeley yelled to be heard over the music playing in the bar. “I thought you were coming for drinks this afternoon?”

“I’m in Billings, at the hospital.”

“
What
? Let me go in the back so I can hear you.” The music faded as Keeley left the main floor of the bar. “What happened?”

“I was in an accident on my way home. I’m a bit banged up, but mainly bumps and bruises. My car’s totaled, though. I was hoping Darren would be able to give me a ride home, but he’s not answering. Would you be able to pick me up?”

Keeley cussed under her breath. “I can’t. I’ve already had a couple beers. Let me check around and see if maybe Noah or Logan could come.”

“Thanks.”

In the background, Cora heard Keeley talking to someone. Whoever it was must’ve agreed to come get her because when Keeley came back on the line, she told Cora they’d be there in half an hour and take her to Keeley’s apartment for the night.

When the nurse eventually came by again, Cora told her someone was on the way. A wheelchair was brought into the exam room, and despite her assurances that she was fine to walk, the nurse forced her into the chair, wheeling her down to the pick-up door.

Covering her eyes against the harsh glare of the overhead lights, Cora waited inside the automatic door. Twenty minutes later, a vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the doors and she lowered her hand. Her stomach took a flying leap upward before plunging down as she recognized Gavin’s Jeep. She was going to kill Keeley for not telling her he was the one coming.

He climbed out of the Jeep and came around as she leveraged herself out of the wheelchair and through the door.

“Are you okay?” He leaned down to inspect her face. “Keeley said it was a car accident. What happened?”

“I ran off the road and hit a tree. I’m okay, just a little sore.”

“Then why were you in a wheelchair?”

“Hospital policy. They wheel you in, they wheel you out.” She moved toward the vehicle, and he pulled open the door for her, placing his hand on her elbow to help her up.

He climbed back in behind the wheel and turned to look at her. His eyes studied her, and she shifted self-consciously. She was a mess. Thanks to the bump her head took against the window, her entire face had been covered with blood when she got to the hospital. Even though she’d managed to wash most of it away, she was pretty sure it was still caked into her hair. It was definitely all over her shirt.

“So, what’s with the bandage?” he gestured to her forehead.

Her hand lifted to trace her fingers over the edge of the large white bandage along her hairline. “Eight stitches and a headache.”

“Is that the official diagnosis or your attempt to downplay it?”

“Yes, a headache. Happy?”

“Hardly. You could have a concussion. Didn’t they want to keep you overnight?”

She carefully shook her head. “Nope. I need to keep an eye out for any kind of signs of a concussion, but otherwise, I’m good.”

He looked skeptical and took the pamphlet she held up with the list of symptoms to watch out for. He scanned the list. “Half these things you can’t even monitor yourself.”

“Which is why you’re dropping me off at Keeley’s,” she replied. “I’m spending the night there.”

Looking partially pacified, he pulled away from the hospital and drove toward Thompson Creek. As the city streetlights disappeared into the distance, Cora sighed and leaned her still aching head against the headrest. Luckily, the pain meds the doctor had prescribed were kicking in and the pounding wasn’t so bad.

“You going to tell me what happened?” he asked.

Cora hesitated. She didn’t want to hide the truth from him again, but what happened that afternoon … It was so similar to what happened with Lela, she just didn’t know if it would even be believable. The cop who took her statement hadn’t believed her. She wasn’t even sure she believed it herself.

She glanced at Gavin’s profile. For two years, she’d protected him from the endless wondering and questions of someone out there who would never be brought to justice, but by not telling him the truth, she only delayed his healing. Yet, when she found him that morning on the bridge, he’d been lost, trying to process everything all over again. Two years before, hearing the truth might have given him something to focus on, something to keep him moving—healing.

Hiding the details of her afternoon would only compound the problems she’d created.

“Someone ran me off the road,” she said after a long pause.

The Jeep jerked to the side, and she grabbed the panic bar above the window, wincing at the twinge of pain that shot through her head. They slowed as Gavin pulled onto the shoulder. He put the vehicle in park and twisted in his seat to face her. His mouth moved, but nothing came out as if he was trying to figure out what to say but his mind was running too quickly to form a complete sentence.

“I went into Billings to do some shopping and have lunch.” She decided against telling him about meeting Hailey. “On my way home, I noticed someone following behind me when I pulled onto the back road.”

“So you saw the vehicle? If it was following you, why didn’t you call someone?”

“At first, I thought they were simply going the same way. It’s not like they had a sign on their hood saying criminal or asshole. They were just a boring sedan going the same direction.”

“Okay, so you pulled off the highway, then what?” he asked impatiently.

“Right before the bridge, he tapped my bumper.” Eyes squinting, she tried to recall the details. “My foot went down on the gas pedal and I managed to get across the bridge. On the other side, the guy hit me again, and I lost control. I went into the ditch and slammed into a tree.”

“You told the cops all of this, right?”

The question stung, but she couldn’t really blame him for asking.

“I told them. Whether they believe me, well … According to the officer who took my statement, it’s all a bit too coincidental. Same bridge, same method.”

“That’s bullshit.”

He slammed his palm against the steering wheel then flung open his door. He disappeared behind the vehicle, and she adjusted the mirror so she could she see him. He’d rested his forearms on the back window and pressed his forehead to the glass. Intense concentration lined his face as he squeezed his eyes shut.

She watched as he craned his head to the side, revealing the tensely corded muscles along his neck that seemed to pulse with each breath he took. He rolled his shoulders, and as he straightened up, she fixed the mirror and stared straight ahead.

“Is that it?” he asked as he got back in the Jeep.

His eyes drilled into her, and she realized she needed to tell him everything, no matter how strange it was.

“I banged my head pretty hard, but I remember my door being opened. I don’t know if he was trying to pull me out or what, but he grabbed my arm and held it for a moment and then he was gone.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, but …” She rubbed her upper arm then rolled up her sleeve. A dot in the center of a small bruise confirmed her growing suspicion. “Oh God, I think he stuck me with a needle. Why would he do that? Should I go back to the hospital? Get them to do blood work?”

He rubbed his hand across his mouth and sighed.

“No, they can’t do anything for you.”

Her eyes widened. “What does that mean?”

“It means I know who did this.”

“Who?”

“The same person who killed Lela.” He stared back at her. “Sinclair.”

“Sinclair? Why would he be trying to kill me?” she asked, confused.

“That probably wasn’t his objective.”

“Then what was he doing?”

“I guess that’s the question. That, and what did he do to you the last time?”

Every instinct Gavin possessed screamed for him to immediately begin hunting Sinclair. The cop was right; it wasn’t a coincidence. It was Sinclair.
But why the fuck would he target Cora?

When Noah told him about Sinclair being involved in Lela’s death, a suffocating weight had settled on his chest. The idea that her death was linked to SIEGE left him sick to his stomach because he knew Sinclair targeted her to in order to get to him.

Going after Cora, though? It didn’t make sense.

Her blue eyes watched him as he drove, and he wondered what she was thinking. He wished he could answer her questions, but most of them were the same as his own. For the moment, though, the questions of
why
didn’t matter. The only thing they had to determine was when Sinclair would strike again.

“This isn’t the way to Keeley’s place,” she said.

“I’m not taking you to Keeley’s.” He pulled into his parking spot in front of his apartment building.

“Why?”

He didn’t answer her immediately. Instead, he got out and went around to the passenger side to open her door.

“Sinclair’s targeted you,” he said. “We don’t know what he’s gonna do or when he’s gonna do it. Do you really want to take the chance that he’ll make his move when you’re at Keeley’s? Get her hurt in the crossfire?”

“No, but—”

“You can stay here tonight, and we’ll worry about tomorrow in the morning.”

It wasn’t until he was unlocking his front door that he realized that while this plan was the best alternative, it also meant that Cora was going to be in his apartment with him. Alone. His hand hesitated on the doorknob.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Gavin cleared his throat. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

He pushed open the door and flipped on the light before punching his code into the security alarm keypad. A quick glance around had him regretting that he hadn’t taken the time to tidy up when Noah brought him home. Unlike the bare feel of her apartment, his was obviously inhabited. Dishes hadn’t been done for a few days, and he had a habit of undressing in the living room.

“Come on in,” he said and held the door open for her. “It’s a bit of a mess, but …”

A breathy laugh fluttered from her lips. “Would you be mad if I told you didn’t expect anything less?”

A smile cracked his face as he locked the door behind them.

“How’s your headache?” he asked.

“It’s gone.” Her fingers probed the bandage. “Do you mind if I clean up?”

“Yeah, sure. The bathroom’s the door on the right.”

At the door, she paused and glanced back at him. “Do you have a shirt I could use?”

“A shirt?” His forehead wrinkled and she plucked at the front of her T-shirt, pointing out the bloodstains. “
Oh
. Yeah, let me grab one.”

He brushed past her to go to his room and pulled a shirt from the closet. When he handed her the shirt, she took it and raised a brow looking from the shirt back to him.

“This explains a lot,” she said. She held the shirt up in front of her, and he realized why she’d given him such a strange look. He snorted at the gag gift his brother had given him for his last birthday.

If you think my gun’s big, you should see what I’m packing.

“You can thank Josh for that.”

She clutched the material against her chest, and the movement drew his eyes to her breasts. The hallway seemed to shrink, the space between them reduced to a breath. The temptation to reach out and touch her left his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Cora had just been through a traumatic car accident; she was covered in blood for God’s sake. She didn’t need him going all horny on her.

“Towels are under the sink.” He reached around her and flicked on the bathroom light.

In the kitchen, he grabbed a beer out of the fridge and cracked it open. From the bathroom came the sound of the shower running, bringing with it the image of Cora standing naked under the spray, water sliding down her chest only to catch on her nipples. His cock hardened, pressing uncomfortably against his zipper.