SEAL Under Siege (Men of Valor) (14 page)

Tears burned the back of her eyes, too many emotions rushing through her. Her heart broke for his pain. And at the same time, she knew in the depth of her soul that he’d never have rescued her from her jail cell if Phoebe had lived. The dichotomy of his sacrifice and her selfish thoughts warred within her chest, and she pointed to a cement bench partially hidden beneath branches from a green bush.

Ashley didn’t need much prodding to keep talking. Maybe she just needed to tell someone, too. “He blames himself for not being here. He has it in his mind that if he’d just been stateside, he could have protected her, that maybe he could have saved her. As if he could have done anything to stop someone from carjacking her on her way home from work even if he’d been across town instead of out of the country.”

It was ridiculous. And so very much like him to take responsibility when it wasn’t his to shoulder. He’d done that with her, after all. He’d taken on her care and protection because she had nowhere else to go. He’d made it personal.

How much more so would it be when he really loved the woman he wanted to protect?

Ashley grabbed her hands. “I just thought you should know. I’ve seen how...close you’re getting, and I love my brother very much. I’m just not sure if his broken heart has ever fully healed.”

Staci looked away. She couldn’t explain why she was even in their lives or how Tristan made her wish she didn’t have her own broken pieces.

But Tristan was not beyond repair. He could learn to love again, forgive himself for being away and move on. She didn’t have that opportunity. What was wrong with her would never heal.

People rushed past them, ignorant of the tumult of emotions washing over her. Their voices dancing and jumping, they motioned with their arms spread wide, their faces alight with the joy of the beautiful night and the twinkling lights on wires crossing above them.

All seemed to be alive with the night.

Except for one man. His nondescript gray sweatshirt pulled to his chin, he kept his back to them, facing a kiosk of toys and games. But somehow it felt like his eyes were on her, tangible despite the fifteen yards between them.

She squeezed Ashley’s hand. She was being paranoid. He was just like any of the others enjoying the evening.

He’d move on in a moment.

Any second now.

Except then she’d lose track of him. Was it better to keep an eye on the man who gave her goose bumps or risk being surprised? What would Tristan say?

“I am so sorry to lay this all on you tonight.” Ashley had obviously mistaken the sudden tension in her hands and arms for her emotional reaction to Tristan’s story.

Staci swiped at the tears still pooled in her eyes. There would be time to talk about this more when she and Ashley were safe at home. Now she had to get them back to the car. But to get to the parking lot, they were going to have to walk past the man spending too much time staring at stuffed carnival toys.

When he pulled his baseball cap lower over his face, shivers ran down her back, setting her hair on its end. He glanced over his shoulder, round sunglasses covering most of his face. He was working too hard to keep his face hidden. Something was definitely not right.

She scanned the crowd for help. There had to be a security guard or police officer around, but she found none.

Tristan had told her to not be an easy target. Make noise and push back. Go for the shins with her heels and groin with her knees. If this guy wanted her, he was going to find a fight first. She grasped the silver whistle beneath her shirt with shaking hands.

“Staci? Staci, what are you looking at?” Ashley sounded like she’d called her name several times.

“Um...”
Oh, Lord, I’m not supposed to get her worked up. I’m not supposed to tell her what’s going on. I’m not even supposed to be here!

She silently prayed for help, but no thunderstorm provided an instantaneous exit strategy. No SEALs fast-roped in to protect them. No big burly men materialized as stand-in bodyguards.

And the man in the gray sweatshirt stayed right where he was, watching her in the reflection of the kiosk’s mirror.

It was time for action. They had to move or be sitting ducks. And that meant that no matter what Tristan said, she had to tell Ashley the truth. She grabbed Ashley’s arm, squeezing it just enough to convey the seriousness of what she was about to say. “Listen to me very carefully. There’s been a man following me since I got back to the U.S.”

Ashley’s eyes flashed wide, then narrowed. “What does he want?”

Best to keep it simple and direct. No need to add more panic or raise Ashley’s blood pressure any more than it probably already had been. “That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is I think he’s here. We have to go. And we have to go quickly. If you hold on to my arm, can you run?”

Ashley looked down at her stomach as though it were a foreign object, a brand-new addition to her body, and shook her head. “I don’t think so.” Her voice wobbled, but she paused and added in a stronger tone, “But I can move quickly.”

Staci patted her hand, putting on her best reassuring smile. “We’re going to be fine. We just need to walk with purpose and try to stay with a group. I don’t think he’ll try anything in public.” She didn’t add that the dimly lit parking lot would be another story altogether. They couldn’t afford for him to follow them closely. And they couldn’t lose track of him, either. Knowing his location was far better than the alternative.

Helping Ashley up, Staci waited for a chattering group of teenage girls to pass before following closely behind them, positioning herself between Ashley and the man in the gray sweatshirt. “Stay by me,” she whispered. “And whatever you do, don’t let go of my hand.”

Ashley nodded, holding her head high, but her breaths were shallow, her free hand wrapped across her middle. The motion of her hips and belly looked as uncomfortable as it probably felt, but she marched forward.

As they passed the bumper cars and approached the arcade, Staci risked a glance over her shoulder.

Her pursuer was just yards behind them, nonchalantly weaving through the crowd, his unfamiliar face staring straight in her direction. She gasped, looking from side to side for someone to help. Nearing the carousel, the crowd began to thin. Almost to the parking lot. Then what?

Ashley’s fingers bit into her arm, and Staci held on to her with both hands.

What had Tristan said? Get loud. Get in his face. Tell him she wasn’t going to be his victim. It was now or never. At least here there was a crowd. And maybe help.

She slowed enough to speak directly into Ashley’s ear. “He’s still there. I’m going to try to scare him off. All right? Stay right here by this fence.”

Ashley nodded, transferring her hold to the fence lined with unsuspecting parents watching their children turn circles on brightly colored horses.

Staci took a stabilizing breath and sent a prayer heavenward before spinning on her tennis shoe and marching toward the man in question, who had closed the gap between them to only two steps. “Back off!” Her voice barely rose above the din, only a few heads turning in her direction.

A twisted smile crossed his lips. “You’ve caused more than enough trouble for me.”

Was that a lisp in his voice, or was she just trying to find something to tie him to Commander Garrison—anything to put a name to the still faceless man?

She tried to push against his chest, but he caught her wrist, wrenching it behind her. “Get off me! Let go!” She kicked at his shins but managed only to bump into a woman standing next to them as he tossed her around.

More heads were turning, but no one stepped forward.

With her free hand, she yanked on the whistle chain, getting it to her lips and managing one ear-splitting shriek before he ripped it from her mouth with a slap of the back of his hand. Despite the sting that seemed to follow her scar from her hairline almost to her jaw, she continued yelling, not at all sure that her voice could be distinguished from that of the roller-coaster riders.

And then another arm grabbed her attacker, small hands clawing at his arm. Ashley had come to her aid. What was she thinking? “Get back.” Her cry again faded into the surrounding noise.

In the split second that Ashley turned her attention away from the man, he shoved her, and she fell to the cement walkway like a ragdoll. Her cry of pain couldn’t be mistaken for the shouts of joy. Finally, the people around them began to react.

“Someone get that cop!”

“Help that lady!”

“Call an ambulance!”

Blinded by anger, Staci clawed at her attacker’s hand until he yelped in pain, and she thrashed her leg around until it connected with his shin.

“Hey, what’s going on here? SDPD.”

Her attacker’s hand dropped and he was gone, vanished into the crowd and beyond before the fresh-faced bicycle cop reached them.

Staci fell to Ashley’s side, grabbing the pale woman’s hand. “Are you all right? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

The officer rushed to them and squatted on Ashley’s other side. “Ma’am, are you hurt? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

Ashley’s big blue eyes were filled with tears, giant drops streaking down the side of her face, as she met Staci’s gaze. Cradling her baby bump with her free arm, she blinked. “I think something happened to the baby.”

FOURTEEN

S
taci clung to Ashley’s purse and huddled into the corner of the ambulance as it wailed through traffic. From her tiny seat she could do nothing but hang on and try to keep her thudding heart from beating out of her chest as they rocked around the corners.

Ashley held out a hand toward her and mumbled something that was blocked by the oxygen mask over her mouth. One of the paramedics pulled it down for a second, and she said, “Call Matt.”

“No cell phones in here, ma’am.” The young woman in the blue uniform offered an apologetic glance before putting the oxygen back into place.

Ashley closed her eyes, and Staci reached for her hand, holding it with a firm pressure that she hoped reminded Ashley that she wasn’t alone. “I did. Remember? When we were waiting for the ambulance, I left him a message, and Tristan, too.” Weak fingers squeezed back and then released.

Ashley’s prone form on the gurney suddenly went blurry. Staci blinked quickly to ease the pressure of the tears that insisted on flowing. Swiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, she offered a gentle smile. “It’s going to be okay.”
God, please let Ashley—and the baby—be okay.

What-if scenarios danced through her mind, and she longed to have the day back. She should have just told Ashley the truth before they went to the park, explained why they couldn’t leave the house. Because then if her blood pressure had gone up, it still might have triggered labor, but Ashley never would have been pushed to the ground. She never would have been hurt trying to come to Staci’s defense.

Her stomach clenched around the sure knowledge that this was her fault. She was responsible, and she’d failed to keep them safe.

“Both heartbeats are slowing down.” The male paramedic pulled his stethoscope from Ashley’s stomach before calling to the driver. “Make sure the hospital has the on-call OB ready. She’s bleeding.”

If anything bad happened to the baby...

She couldn’t even finish the thought, so painful were the knives in her chest. In just a short time, she’d come to love Ashley like a sister and care for the baby like one of her own nieces.

How could she live with herself if something was really wrong? If there was permanent injury to either mother or child?

Her prayers didn’t have words, only silent cries to her Heavenly Father for healing and safety for the two lives on the gurney.

If only Tristan would call her back. He’d know how to contact Matt. He’d know what to do.

The ambulance pulled to a stop at the hospital with a surprisingly smooth motion, and the back doors flung open to the bright lights of the hospital bay.

“Sit tight.” No one addressed her directly, but she knew the order was for her, so she curled into a ball as they pulled the rolling bed out of the vehicle and popped the legs into place. The female paramedic jumped off the back bumper, holding a bag of clear liquid above her shoulder, the other end connecting to an IV in the back of Ashley’s hand.

Staci scrambled after them, chasing them to the double glass doors until a nurse in green scrubs held up her hand. “Are you a relative?”

Staci shook her head.

“Sorry, honey. Family only.” The nurse pointed toward another door. “You can wait in there.”

“But...”

There was no time. The gurney disappeared down the hall around a corner, and she stumbled into the waiting area filled with plastic chairs. The vanishing adrenaline left her weak, and she sank into the uncomfortably curved chair, letting her head fall into her hand.

The minute that her other wrist touched her knee, she jerked back, pain shooting to the bone. She curled her wrist under her chin, cradling her arm against her body and waiting. Just waiting.

After minutes that felt like seconds when she confronted her attacker, every moment in the E.R. waiting room felt like an hour, each tick of the clock agonizingly slow.

She wiped a hand across her face, her fingers coming away sticky with blood. Pressing a finger to the corner of her mouth, she gasped at the pain in the simple motion. The bitter, metallic taste of blood on her tongue made her cringe, and she stood up in search of a restroom.

The fluorescent light over the mirror above the single sink in the ladies’ room wouldn’t have been flattering on the best of days, but after a hand-to-hand battle with a powerfully built man standing at least a head taller than her, she cringed at her reflection.

A dark bruise was already forming on her cheek where he had hit her when she blew the whistle, and a trickle of red emerged from the same corner of her mouth. A brown mark marred her forehead, and her eyes were swollen and red. Likely a gift from all the tears she’d shed at Ashley’s side.

Strangely enough, the only normal part of her face was the red scar in front of her ear. It didn’t stand out quite so much amidst the other marks and bruises.

She jerked the lever to release more of the paper towel roll and ripped it off before slipping it into warm running water. With ginger movements, she dabbed at the corner of her mouth, washing away the blood until only the red cut was left. Then she scrubbed at her forehead and splashed water over her face, drops running down her neck and into the ripped and stained collar of her shirt.

After five minutes she felt more normal than she’d expected, save for the aches and pains in her arm and the ringing in her right ear, which was almost certainly from the smack she’d taken to the face.

She’d survived her first real brawl.

But would Ashley and the baby be so lucky?

She hurried back into the waiting room and locked on to the front desk. A triage nurse glanced up from her paperwork, holding out a clipboard. “You don’t have to put up with that kind of treatment, sweetheart.” She put down the clipboard for a moment and held out a brochure for the Pacific Coast House.

Staci shook her head. “No. I was attacked. By a stranger. Not... I’m not being...”

The woman’s mocha-colored skin wrinkled around her dark chocolate eyes as she squinted. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, ma’am. I was with my friend, who was brought in in the ambulance. Is she okay? Can I talk with her?”

“What’s her name?”

“Ashley Waterstone. She’s pregnant.”

The woman’s fingers clicked on her computer keyboard, her brows pulling low over her eyes as they went back and forth across the screen. “I’m sorry, hon. I can’t give you any information about her condition.”

“But I was just with her.” She pointed over her shoulder to the ambulance bay. “We came in together. She fell, and she said there was something wrong with her baby. Please.”

The nurse’s eyes were kind, but her tone never wavered. “Ma’am, I can’t tell you anything. HIPAA laws are strictly enforced. But as soon as your friend welcomes guests, I’ll let you know. You can wait here as long as you need.”

“Thank you.” She dug her phone out of her pocket. “I should try to call her husband again.”

“I’m sorry. No cell phones in the hospital.” She pointed to the sign on the wall with a cell phone in the middle of a red circle with a line through it.

Staci nodded slowly, shuffling toward the sliding front doors. But as she stared into the darkness, fear enveloped her. She was just going to step outside. She’d stay in a lighted area. It would all be fine.

Except the knot in her stomach suggested otherwise.

She huffed away the nerves and clenched her fists, praying for strength. She’d just walk out into the lighted area and make her call. Everything would be better when Tristan and Matt arrived.

Stepping into the inky night, she held her phone as though it were a lifeline, marching toward the sidewalk and stopping in the yellow beam of an overhead light.

It was just a quick phone call. She’d hurry to leave Matt another message and be back before anyone could notice her.

“This is Matt. Leave a message.”

“Matt, it’s Staci Hayes again. Ashley’s at—” She glanced at the sign over the E.R. entrance and read him the hospital’s name. “They won’t give me any information on her condition, but she’s being cared for. Please, please call me back.” After rattling off her number, she sighed and leaned against the wall.

Staring at her phone, she willed it to ring, to light up with Tristan’s name. But he was gone. She was on her own.

But it couldn’t hurt to leave him another message, too. His phone flipped straight to voice mail, but just the sound of his voice telling her he was sorry he’d missed her call wrapped around her, and she held on to it like a blanket around her shoulders.

“It’s me. I’m at the hospital with Ashley. They won’t give me any updates because I’m not family. But I’m here. And I...” She wanted to say she was sorry. She wanted to say that she was terrified.

Mostly she wanted to say that she loved him.

Even though it just begged to be broken, her heart knew the truth. She’d fallen in love with him. She wasn’t what he needed, could never be what he wanted. But that didn’t stop her heart from crying out for him.

“Well, I’ll see you soon, I hope.”

She hung up the phone, shaking her head and staring at the ground. Could she be any more absurd? Suddenly it seemed as if all the night’s horrible events washed over her at once, sapping her energy and her courage. She wanted to be strong, to be brave...but she just couldn’t anymore.

Instead, she hung her head and let the tears roll down her cheeks.

* * *

“Shh, Staci, it’s okay.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Tristan drew Staci into his arms and whispered the words into her ear. She jerked at his touch, her eyes filled with alarm for just an instant. Then she turned into his embrace, and he held her close. He murmured soothing words over and over. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Calm down. I’m here.” He ran a hand over her curls and down the side of her face, stopping just before he reached the cut at the corner of her mouth.

Her hand fisted into the front of his T-shirt. Sobs burst out of her, followed quickly by a damp spot in the center of his chest.

He ran his hand in slow circles over her back as one of her arms snaked around his waist, her fingers twining into the belt loops of his khaki cargo shorts as if she wouldn’t ever let him go.

“I was so scared.”

“I know, sweetie.” He had no idea what had scared her—the list of possibilities was long enough to span the globe. But at least she was talking.

“He came after us. And I never should have taken Ash—Ashley—” Suddenly she was fighting his embrace and pointing toward the hospital entrance. “She’s in there. She was pushed down, and they won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Shh. Calm down. Ashley’s all right.”

She looked up with watery eyes, her bottom lip trembling. “How do you know?”

With a thumb on each cheek, he brushed away her tears. “I was just inside. I parked at a different entrance, so I didn’t see you until the desk nurse told me you had stepped outside. The training op was canceled, and when I got your voice mail, I came here right away. The nurse said Ashley was just coming out of surgery. She had a bit of bleeding, but they stopped it without trouble.”

“And the baby?”

“They delivered him and he’s perfect. They’re taking good care of him in the neonatal ICU until Ashley’s up to it.”

“They are?” Long lashes blinked over her big green eyes, as though she couldn’t believe him.

“Yes. They’re both fine. Right now, I’m more worried about you. What happened?”

She threw her arms around him again, burrowing into his embrace. The tears were gone, but the knot in his stomach grew.

“It was horrible. He was right there, and he grabbed my arm, and I told Ashley to stay away, but she came after him. And he hit my face and I dropped the whistle. I tried to use it. I promise. But he was so big, and I couldn’t see his face or his hair. And I kicked at him as hard as I could. I yelled for him to back off, but he didn’t.”

He held her just far enough away that he could look into her eyes, which were once again overflowing. His chest burned and his stomach rolled. “You did just what you were supposed to. I’m so proud of you.”

She’d done everything she could. But he’d failed again. He’d failed to keep her safe, just like he had with Phoebe. He’d come so close to losing Staci. She’d become a staple in his life, and he’d almost lost her, too.

He knew he should pull away, knew that he’d proven that he wasn’t good enough to keep her safe, but he couldn’t stop himself from tugging her closer. Cautious of the cut at the corner of her mouth, he pressed his lips gently to hers. She sighed and fell against him, draping her arms over his shoulders and plunging her fingers into his hair.

The scent of hospital hand soap clung to her skin—the sweetest smell he’d ever known. And as she deepened their connection, he held on to her. She wasn’t an illusion or a figment of his dreams.

His pulse skittered in relief and exhilaration. She was safe and whole. He’d come close, but he hadn’t lost her.

But could he hang on to her until the danger passed?

The lights of an approaching car blinded him, even through closed eyes, and he pulled back, leaving just one arm around her back. He couldn’t tear his gaze from her battered face, regret a heavy stone in his gut. How long would he have to live with that?

“Maybe we should go back inside and see if we can see Ashley.”

“I just want to try Matt one more time. I haven’t heard back from him. Wait here with me?”

She nodded like he’d been a fool for asking as she sidled into the protection of his side, leaning her head on his shoulder.

The call must have gone straight to voice mail because several seconds later, he said, “Where are you, Rock? Get here. You’re a dad, and you’re missing it!”

When he pocketed the cell and guided her toward the entrance, she stopped before they reached the doors. “Why’d you call him Rock?” Her eyes were uncertain, her frown filled with questions.

“His last name is Waterstone, and he’s built like a boulder. The rest of our class wasn’t very creative when it came to nicknames.” As they walked back inside and waited in the line to talk with the triage nurse again about Ashley’s condition, he continued talking. “Now some of the guys are talking like they’re going to call Ashley’s little guy L.R.”