Taken - Before her very Eyes (8 page)

“Whatever it takes to get Sabrina
back.”

Nate rushed around the car and
slid behind the wheel. “Then I suggest we pay John Scott a little visit.”

Summer felt some of the courage
that she’d gained slip away at the thought of coming face to face with the man
who’d turned her into this quivering mess. She knew it was inevitable, but
there was something else she needed to do first.

“I have to stop at the hospital.
I need to see Dean and make sure he’s all right.”

“Sure.” Nate gripped her hand and
gave it a squeeze. “Maybe he’ll have a description of the kidnapper?”

“Maybe he will?” Summer felt her
gut wrench remembering the look on Dean’s face as the knife slit him open. It
was an image she doubted she’d ever forget. “After all, they were practically face
to face.”

The hospital was abuzz with the
news of Dean’s attempted murder so every eye was glued to Summer and Nate as
they rushed down the second floor hallway, then burst through the recovery room
doors. Summer had one thing on her mind, find Dean and make sure he was all
right so she could concentrate on getting Sabrina back.

“I’m sorry,” the nurse behind the
desk said, standing quickly, “but the doctor specifically said no—”

“Visitors. Yeah, yeah. I know the
drill,” Nate said sarcastically, stopping at the entrance to the nurses’
station and blocking their exit. “But we’re gonna see Dean Demure and if the
doctor doesn’t like it then he can deal with me. And right now I’m really not
in the mood to listen to his bullshit.” Nate leaned in closer to the nearest
nurse. “Now, where is Mr. Demure?”

Summer couldn’t stand to wait.
She left Nate behind, moving through the large recovery ward peeking inside
each smaller room before finally finding Dean spread out on the bed, hooked up
to a ton of monitors. She scanned the machines and determined that his vitals
were good, despite his face being pale—so pale that his mop of dark curls
looked oddly out of place.

“Dean?” Summer said softly,
leaning on the side of the bed. “Dean, can you hear me?”

A moan escaped his lips as his
right eye fluttered open before snapping closed again. He looked totally out of
it. Probably still doped up from the surgery.

The nurse making her rounds
stepped to the opposite side of the bed and checked his pulse. “You must be Sabrina,”
she said. “He’s been asking for you ever since he came out of surgery.” She
pulled his charts then stopped and gave Summer a big smile. “He must really
love you, cause in all my years of working here I’ve never heard someone so
adamant about seeing somebody.”

Summer swallowed hard, but the
lump in her throat didn’t budge. She reached out and reluctantly placed a
shaking hand on his cold cheek. Dean loved Sabrina so much that if anything
happened to her, it’d kill him. He’d always been there for her, especially
during the last five months when she’d been less than capable of showing her
own feelings.

“Summer,” Nate said, rushing up
behind. “Did he say anything? Is he awake?”

“Sum—mer,” Dean muttered. His
right eye fluttered open for a second and a big smile filled his face. “I knew
you could do it.” His eye snapped closed and he took a deep breath. “I knew
you’d get Sabrina.”

“Dean.” Summer stood, holding his
face in both hands. “Who took her! Who stabbed you!”

Dean’s eyes snapped open and
wildly searched the room. Although groggy, he seemed to be taking in every
face. “Where’s Sabrina?”

“She’s gone.” Summer’s hands were
shaking so badly that Dean’s face was vibrating. “Tell me who took her. You saw
his face. He spoke to you. What did he say? What did he say that made you look
at me like that?”

Dean strained to focus his eyes
and attempted to sit forward—an act that the nurse quickly restrained—but there
was something strange about the way he was looking at her.

“He… he told me you were
pregnant. That’s why I looked over at you. Then… then he stabbed me.” Dean’s
eyes were boring into her and she could feel him searching for an answer, some
sign that he’d been played a fool.

He reached out his hand, placing
it on her stomach and Summer felt the stab of guilt rip through her chest as
his fingers touched the wet fabric to her skin. She could feel the way his hand
was cupping her growing belly and it seemed so wrong—so different from the way
he’d touched her belly when Sabrina was inside. That seemed like a different
time. Hell, a whole different universe. There were no tears of happiness this
time. No excited embrace like before. This felt wrong. Felt like a stranger
feeling for a cancerous growth inside.

Summer pulled his hand away,
unable to stand his touch anymore. She looked from Dean’s questioning eyes and
watched as Nate escorted the nurse away from the bedside.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean
grabbed the bed control and raised the head up, grimacing in pain as it rose.
“Unless—”

“It would’ve only complicated
matters. Do you think I want everybody knowing that I might be carrying that
sick fucker’s child inside me?” Summer stood and wrapped her arms around her
body. “Do you know how it makes me feel every time I see this lump? Every time
I feel it move inside me.” She shook her head. “It sickens me. It actually makes
me violently ill knowing I may give birth to his bastard kid.”

Dean reached out his hand, but
Summer stood out of reach. “It could be mine? It could be ours?” He forced a
weak smile. “We were trying, remember? Remember how excited we were to have
another baby?”

Summer did remember, but it felt
so long ago. Like a blurry dream.

“You wanted a boy to complete the
perfect family, but Sabrina wanted a little sister so she could have tea
parties with someone other than you or me.” Dean leaned forward, fighting the
pain and gripped Summer’s hand, pulling her close. “Why didn’t you run the DNA
and find out for sure?”

Summer stared down at their
interlocked hands. She remembered the first time he’d held her hand. It was as
they were leaving the restaurant on their first date. Dean insisted the wet
sidewalk may be slippery for her high heels, a ploy by any standards, but it
had worked. There was an instant chemistry when their bodies had touched. A
tiny charge of electricity that had jumped from his body to hers, erupting a
flood of emotions inside. His touch had always given warmth and excitement
every time, but his powers seemed to be gone. Faded away with the passage of
time.

Unable to take his touch any
longer, Summer pulled free. “Cause if it isn’t that sick bastard’s child, then
it’ll be yours. And look at us, we’ve grown so far apart that I don’t even
recognize us anymore.”

“We haven’t grown apart, Summer.
I still love you. I’ll always love you no matter what happens. No matter whose
baby you’re carrying. No matter how long it takes for you to get over it.” Dean
paused, drawing a cleansing breath. “I’ve never stopped loving you. I only
agreed to the separation because I thought it would make it easier for you to
accept what had happened. I never wanted to be apart. Never!”

Summer dropped onto the stool
beside the bed. “But you never came to my rescue. I prayed so many times that
you’d show up and save me from him, but you never came.” Summer fought back a
sob. “You let me down and that’s what hurts so bad. That’s why I can’t be with
you anymore. And that’s why I decided to give the baby away without knowing
whose it is.”

Tears were spilling down Dean’s
face. “You’re being unreasonable. I tried everything I could to find you. I
searched everywhere I could think of. Ask Nate. Ask anybody. I never slept. I
never ate. I would’ve killed a thousand people just to get you back. And you
did come back. That’s the most important thing.” Dean reached out a hand to
her. “You came back, to me?”

“I have to go.” Summer turned her
back on Dean and wiped the tears from her face. She couldn’t let him see her
like this. She couldn’t allow herself to break down into his arms. She didn’t
need him anymore. She had to learn how to be strong again, like she used to be.
“I have to go. I have to find Sabrina and get her back.”

Summer heard the bed creak, followed
by groans from behind. She knew Dean was attempting to get up when the nurses
dashed across the room. It didn’t matter if Dean wanted to help or not. She’d
already made up her mind. She didn’t need his help.

“Summer… wait! I can help.”

Nate’s radio crackled to life and
he stepped toward the door to take the call. Summer quickened her pace across
the room when she heard Chief Dickson’s voice on the other end. He sounded
pissed and she figured it was because they had disobeyed his orders and stopped
here on the way to the station, but the look on Nate’s face proved her wrong.

“John Scott’s been attacked
during the night.”

“By a cop?”

Nate took her arm and hurried her
out into the hall. “No, by a guy they brought in last night for assault and
battery. Seth Millar’s his name and somehow he got into John Scott’s cell and
nearly killed him.”

“It’d serve that bastard right,”
Summer said, gritting her teeth. “Except I need him alive.”

“That’s what has the chief so
worked up. He wants to know what the hell’s going on. The kidnapper wants him
freed, but someone else wants him dead.” Nate turned to Summer. “I know every
cop on the force would be willing to look the other way if something happened
to him, and maybe that’s what happened. But if he’s the key to getting Sabrina
back then we’d better get down there and keep him safe.”

“This is wrong.” Summer shook her
head as they entered the elevator. “So wrong.”

“I agree, but right now we just
have to play along and wait for our chance to roll the dice.”

The ride to the station seemed to
take forever and a part of Summer was glad for the reprieve. How could she step
foot in the same room as that monster? How could she not want to rip his balls
off and force feed them down his throat? They would’ve had to restrain the old
Summer Demure from doing just that, but she knew she’d crumble like a shit
house the second John Scott looked her way. How could this have happened to
her? How could she have been transformed into such a spineless piece of shit at
the hands of one man?

Summer twisted in her seat and
stared at Nate. It felt good riding in the cruiser beside her old partner.
Maybe the best medicine didn’t come from a bottle, but from the familiarity of
a close friend who was there for you when you needed someone.

Nate was so opposite from Dean.
His size was intimidating and his stern hardened face brought instant respect
and fear from people. He was the kind of guy you wanted standing at your side
when bad shit was going down, and he’d proven it on many occasions during their
time together. Summer could remember a dozen times that his bruit strength had
come in handy in the line of duty. She had been no slouch and could defend
herself in most situations, but where she had to fight a good fight to be the
victor, Nate could do the same with one swat of his fist. If she hadn’t met
Dean before being paired up with Nate, then their rumoured relationship might
have been more than a rumour.

“So how do you think the
kidnapper and John Scott are connected?” Nate said, stealing a glance. “Are
they partners? Work for the same boss? Jail house—”

“I’m putting my money on them
having the same boss, cause the kidnapper got a call on his cell phone when he
was talking to me.”

Nate’s lips tightened into slits
and his eyes narrowed. “You talked to the kidnapper! When were you gonna tell
me?”

“Sorry, I forgot. There’s so much
happening that I can’t think straight.”

“Maybe I was wrong to take you to
the hospital?” Nate’s nostrils were flared and twitching. “Grimshaw was right.
I should’ve taken you to the station and got all the information out of you.”

“Grimshaw? Don’t tell me you’re
falling for this guy. He’s an arrogant piece of shit who only wants one thing.
A conviction on his sheet.”

Nate took a deep breath and
rounded the corner. “So you think the boss called to check that he got
Sabrina?”

“I don’t know, but the guy—I
assume it was a man—ordered him to toss Dean’s phone out the window. The guy
seemed ticked that the kidnapper was talking to me.” Summer watched out the
window as the traffic began to thicken. Everybody was heading to their jobs,
unaware of the terrible things that had happened this morning. Ignorance must
be bliss, Summer thought. Cops never got a chance to be ignorant even when they
wanted to be.

“So if John Scott and the
kidnapper both work for the same person, then what John Scott did to me,” she
fought to control the shiver which raced through her body at the memory, but
lost, “wasn’t a random act. It was meant as a payback.”

“For intercepting the drugs
heading to Dean’s business? But that wasn’t even our doing. It was a joint
effort.”

“That’s the only thing I keep
coming up with, too.” Summer had run through the long list of calls they’d had
leading up to the attack from John Scott, but the only thing that could’ve
pissed someone off bad enough to put that kind of hit on her was the drug bust.

Nate glanced over, his eyes
lingering a second too long.

Summer raised an eyebrow. “So
everything happened because of Dean’s business?”

“Come on, Summer. What else do we
have here? There’s no other explanation for what had happened. You can’t tell
me that it was a coincidence that John Scott’s van was rear ended during our
chase. He knew our schedule. The driver of that car knew we’d be on that road.
He knew we’d give chase. And he knew John Scott would be waiting for him to
crash into. It was all a setup. The crash. The run through the woods. The dirt
bike stashed for the driver’s escape. He got away clean that morning,” Nate
sighed, “but I think he’s come back.”