Keeping Guard (15 page)

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Authors: Christy Barritt

BOOK: Keeping Guard
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“Did you have a hard breakup? Was he upset?”

That day flashed in her mind. “You could say that. He was used to me doing whatever he told me to do, for the most part. I was foolish and tried not to rock the boat, so I usually did listen to him. He couldn't believe that I would break up with him. He kept saying I would change my mind.”

Nate scowled again. “What happened after that? Did he leave you alone? Or did he pester you to take him back?”

Kylie searched her memories and then shrugged. “He basically left me alone. I do think that he thought I'd eventually come back to him. But I didn't. I had no desire to.”

“And he never spoke to you about it again?”

She almost said no, when she remembered one instance. “There was an evening when he showed up at my office at the studio, looking upset and disheveled. He threatened to sabotage my show and convince the network to shut it down.”

“What did you say?”

“I told him I'd contact my lawyer.”

Nate smiled. “I bet he didn't like that.”

“No, he didn't. I've never seen him so angry, actually. We didn't speak again.”

And with that thought, she fell into a restless sleep, tainted with nightmares of a faceless man chasing her. At various times, the faceless man's features morphed into Colin's, or even Frank's. When would this real-life nightmare be over?

TWENTY-ONE

W
hen Kylie woke sometime during the night, she spotted Nate stretched out in the recliner in her room. His breathing was even and a flimsy blanket, one far too small for his build, lay across his arms and chest.

She smiled, grateful that he cared enough to not leave her side. He must be in agony himself, having endured the hit-and-run, as well as diving into the frigid water to rescue her. Yet he seemed concerned only about her well-being.

Had she really misread the man that badly when they'd first met? She'd assumed he was just like her ex-boyfriend, that he'd try to control her and take away her independence. Nate was anything but that.

Thank you for sending him to me, Lord.

“Hi,” Nate said. A smile spread across his face.

Kylie looked away as her face heated. She hadn't realized he'd awoken, and she'd been staring, yet in her own little world at the same time. “Thanks for camping out here.”

He pulled himself up in the recliner and ran a hand over his face. “I don't think you should be alone. Not until this guy is behind bars.”

Something deep, dark flickered in his eyes. The look that had crossed his face many times before, usually when someone mentioned the danger Kylie faced, appeared again. She grabbed his hand and squeezed, imploring him with her eyes
to share his thoughts. “What's going on, Nate? Will you let me know what you're thinking?”

He looked down at their hands. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“But you didn't.”

He shook his head. “Kylie…I don't know what your brother told you, but…my last rescue mission was a tough one, to say the least.”

“He didn't tell me anything, Nate.”

“There was a yacht that capsized. A whole family on board. It was at night and there was this awful storm and we were miles from land, our helicopter barely able to stay in the air because the winds were so strong.”

“Sounds scary.”

“I saved the two young kids first. Then I saved the husband—he was injured pretty severely and couldn't swim on his own. I promised the mom I would come back for her.” His face twisted in agony. “Before I could, the boat went under. I searched the waters for as long as I could looking for her. But we had to get back to land.”

Kylie squeezed his hand, her heart flinching. “You did everything you could, Nate.”

His hollow eyes met hers. “I broke a promise, though. I told the woman I'd be back for her. Today, her kids don't have a mom. I grew up without a mom and I know how bad it hurts. It's all my fault.”

“It's hardly your fault. Maybe the family shouldn't have been out at that hour. Maybe you could blame it on the storm that capsized the boat. But don't blame yourself. You tried to help.”

He drew in a long, labored breath. “Afterward, I started drinking. I don't know why that mission affected me so much. Your brother was the only one who confronted me, let me see that I had to stop drinking away my problems. I got my life
back on track, got right with God. But the guilt still doesn't go away.”

Kylie pressed her fingers into his. “Nate, listen to me. If something happens to me, it won't be by any fault of yours. It's not your fault that some madman has been stalking me. It's not your fault that Suzy's missing. You have to stop blaming yourself.”

His eyes—red, strained—pulled up to meet hers. “I felt like I was reliving that night again, Kylie. The water was dark. I couldn't find you.”

“But you did.” His concern touched deep places in her heart.

“I can't stand the thought that someone's doing this to you.”

Kylie licked her lips, the realizations that God had laid on her heart pounding to the surface. “Nate, I really feel like God's been speaking to me lately. I'm a hardhead sometimes, but I've finally figured out that you can let circumstances determine who you are, or you can determine who you are through the circumstances. I'd somehow lost sight of that. Maybe you need to remember that, too. You saved three lives that night. You've saved countless others. Don't beat yourself up for the rest. You can't save everyone.”

He hung his head a moment and nodded. Kylie could see the struggle in him. She rested her hand on his head, running her fingers through his hair. He needed time to process everything. She knew that. And she needed time to recover from the day's traumas.

Kylie cleared her throat. “Now that the water-main break is fixed, you probably need to go and get things ready to open the restaurant. I'm sure Darlene can pick me up or the deputy outside the door can give me a ride back.”

He raised his head, his gaze still appearing burdened. “I can't open the restaurant tomorrow, Kylie. I can't open it with
just Carrie, Harvey and me. It would be a disaster. Besides, I want to stay with you. I need to stay with you.”

“But I know you depend on it for your income. I don't want to—”

“It's not a problem, Kylie. I have someone interested in buying the place. I'm supposed to meet with him this week. Maybe the place won't be my problem anymore.”

Kylie remained silent a moment. “And what will you do?”

“Teach at the Coast Guard Training Center, I hope.”

Guilt still gnawed at her. “That's great for the future, but I'm sorry to put you in this position right now, Nate.”

“I'm making my own choices, Kylie. Don't be sorry.” His gaze held hers.

She swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling dry, and looked away, afraid that Nate was seeing too much of her soul. “Who's the buyer?”

Nate shrugged. “Someone who's always wanted to own his own restaurant. I don't know much about him except that he has the capital to buy the place. I guess he invested in some real estate before the market crashed and got out just in time. He thinks the Revolutionary Grill could be a real winner with some changes.”

“Some changes?”

He shrugged again. “I guess it's none of my business what he does with the place after he buys it. He wants to modernize the grill. Add a bar. Maybe have an Italian theme.”

“Italian? In Yorktown? That would just ruin the whole atmosphere of the restaurant.” She paused and bit her lip, afraid she'd said too much or that her words would influence him. “But I guess that's none of my business either.”

“You have a lot more passion for the place than I do. You have a right to an opinion.”

Before she could respond, the nurse bustled into the room,
took Kylie's vitals and gave her another shot of pain medication into her IV. Before the nurse left the room, Kylie was out again.

 

Nate watched Kylie sleeping, grateful that she was alive and more determined than ever to figure out the person behind these attacks. Kylie's brother was worried. They'd talked after Kylie was admitted into the hospital and Bruce had confessed that much to Nate.

Nate prayed that the sting tomorrow was successful. But even then, if her stalker in Kentucky was caught, it wouldn't explain who was behind these attacks in Virginia.

His body ached in ways he didn't want to admit. Despite that, he stood and walked toward the door. A sheriff's deputy still stood guard outside.

Feeling better, Nate closed the door and went back to the most uncomfortable recliner he'd ever sat in. Even though the nurse had brought him another blanket, it would do little to offer him comfort this evening. He pulled it around his shoulders and closed his eyes.

He woke up at 7:30 to the phone beside Kylie's bed ringing. He glanced at the time and saw that four hours had passed. Groggily, he pulled himself up and snatched the phone from its cradle. The voice on the other end informed him that it was Sebastian, a former chef at his restaurant. What could he be calling about? He glanced at Kylie and saw her starting to stir.

“Don't come to the restaurant today,” Sebastian said.

Nate braced himself for whatever reason Sebastian would give him. Had something happened there also? Why didn't the sheriff tell him? “Why not?”

“I'm cooking there today.”

“But you have another job.”

“I'm taking a few days off to help out. It's no problem,
Nate. Besides, I still remember when you helped me fix up my bike and didn't even charge me for the parts you bought. It's the least I can do.”

“The offer is kind, Sebastian, but I don't even have enough staff to fill the other positions right now. There's no way we can open.”

“Carrie called in some people she knows. We can do it. We want to. We know the restaurant means a lot to you, but you need to take care of yourself right now.”

“That's kind of you. I don't know what to say.”

“Don't say anything. Just let us do this.”

When he hung up, Kylie gave him a quizzical glance. “What was that about?”

Nate filled her in.

Kylie grinned. “It sounds like you've impacted a lot of people.”

“It sure doesn't feel like it.”

“Look at the fruit you're sowing.”

He looked into the distance. “Maybe I should tell them not to bother…”

“Of course you shouldn't. Let them help you. Remember, that's what life is about. I think you told me that not too long ago.” She smiled, her face still a little drowsy from sleep, but never having looked so beautiful.

Just as the sun was beginning to set, the doctor released Kylie. Nate insisted on wheeling her out to John's awaiting car, even though she put up a fuss.

Kylie smiled at John as they approached, appreciation showing in each motion. “John, how are you? Are you okay? Thank you so much for everything.”

John smiled in return. “It's no problem, Kylie. I've done it for strangers before. Doing it for you guys was a no-brainer.”

Inside the car, Nate tucked Kylie into the nook of his arm. She leaned against him, obviously not feeling one hundred percent yet.

“Any updates on who did this?” John put the car into Drive and took off.

Nate shook his head. “Not yet. The sheriff assures us he's working on it. I just know we've got to catch whoever is doing this—and soon.”

“I think everyone in town agrees with you.”

Comfortable silence filled the car. Kylie's head still rested against Nate and her eyes closed. Nate prayed that her recovery would be swift and painless. The body could only take so much trauma.

John bypassed downtown Yorktown and instead crossed the Coleman Bridge.

Kylie peeked an eye open. “Where are we going?”

“John offered to let us stay at his place until all of this clears up. I think it's a good idea.” He hoped Kylie agreed and wouldn't put up too much of an argument. He didn't have the strength to fuss with her today.

Thankfully, she nodded. Nate guessed she was probably too exhausted to argue, also. A day like Sunday would do that to anyone. It had robbed them physically, emotionally…but perhaps renewed them spiritually? It was funny how hard times could do that.

After crossing a toll bridge, they turned down a wooded street leading to some cottages nestled on the banks of the York River, opposite Yorktown. John pulled into his gravel driveway, the tires rumbling with each inch, and came to a gentle stop. His house stood two stories, with a pier stretching into the water and a small boat bobbing at the end.

Nate helped Kylie from the car, careful with each movement not to exacerbate her injuries. She had little to say, which just proved that the medication was still affecting her.

“I'll show you to your rooms. They're nothing fancy,” John said.

“They'll be perfect. We appreciate you letting us stay here.”
Nate kept a hand on Kylie's elbow to steady her as she walked upstairs.

Kylie was already looking tired, even from the short ride from the hospital, so they left her to lie down. The two men went downstairs to talk. Nate had already filled John in on the situation. Nate knew if he could trust anyone in this situation, it was John. They'd had each other's backs more than once.

“You've fallen for her, haven't you?” John asked, seated across from him with a mug of coffee in hand.

Nate gripped his coffee with both hands and raised his eyes. “Is it that obvious?”

“It's obvious that you care about her.”

After a moment of thought, Nate nodded. “I do.”

“Have you told her yet?”

“I'm just waiting for the right time. She's not going to be in Yorktown long. I want her to make her own decisions about staying or going.”

John leaned back and draped an arm over the back of the chair. “So, do the police have any leads about who is targeting you and Kylie?”

“There's a sting tomorrow in Kentucky. We're hoping that's the end of this. There's no way this man should know that Kylie is here in Virginia. I have no idea how the crimes taking place here are connected to her—or to us, I should say. I'm connected just as much as she is.”

“If it's not her stalker, then who is it?”

Nate shrugged, that same weight returning to his chest. “I don't know. I wish I did. I wish I did.”

 

Kylie slept until the next morning, slumber easily finding her. Knowing that Nate and John weren't far away helped, as did the pain medicine she'd taken.

As she crawled out of bed, muscles she didn't realize she had ached and pulled and whimpered. It took longer than she
would have liked to stretch and find her footing. She crept into the hallway and spotted a bathroom two doors down.

She barely recognized the person staring back at her in the mirror. One eye was bruised and a huge knot, along with a gash, streaked across her forehead. Her forearm was bandaged from a cut she'd gotten, presumably when being dragged out of the water. Her hair, usually long and wavy, was now frizzy and matted. And she had no clothes to change into or even a brush for her hair. Not exactly the way to impress someone, but she had no other choice.

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