Ignoring all of Triss’s arguments about why she should wait for the rest of the Shield team to arrive, Natalie stepped out of the cab and marched across her tiny patch of grass to the converted Charles Village row house she’d lived in and loved for the past three years. The two-story attached homes had been painted vibrant purples, blues and greens and repurposed as multiunit apartments. Natalie’s was a one-bedroom with less than nine-hundred square feet, but she had made it home.
As she approached the door, though, apprehension suddenly took hold. Not because of Triss’s unease, but because of the reality of what she’d face inside.
Boxes. All packed and ready to go to the new home she and Kyle had planned to share. She’d packed up most everything in the apartment before the trip. Kyle had even helped. The memory stuck there for a moment. By Wednesday of last week, she’d still had her entire office left to pack. Kyle had offered to help, but she hadn’t wanted to burden him, so she’d declined.
She’d come home from work that night ready to pull an all-nighter, only to find the entire office packed up and a sweet card with a rose sitting on the desk. Kyle had borrowed her key and surprised her by taking care of the whole project for her, piling boxes high, wrapping up filing cabinets and desk drawers. The memory stung but also validated why she’d stayed in the relationship. He was forever doing things like that when she least expected it. She frowned. Come to think of it, he usually did those kinds of things after she mentioned he seemed distant or distracted.
She shook the thought away. She wouldn’t waste time thinking about it.
As if she’d been there before, Triss led the way up the stairs and down the hall to Natalie’s apartment. It didn’t surprise Natalie. Roman would have thoroughly briefed his team on everything they would need to know.
She pulled out her key and reached for the knob, but Triss held out her hand.
“Let me take the lead.”
Natalie set the key in her hand and dutifully stepped back as Triss first checked the knob. Locked, as it should be.
Triss unlocked the door and swung it inward, taking a quick sweep of the area before stepping inside, her arm out to prevent Natalie from going on ahead.
Natalie suppressed a sigh of impatience, watching as Triss smoothly retrieved her gun from her ankle holster. “Go ahead and lock up behind us,” Triss said.
Natalie turned the bolt.
“You have an alarm, right?” Triss flicked on the living room light and edged farther into the apartment.
“Yes.”
“Was it set when you left?” Triss stepped down into the recessed office. Not much to investigate there, but the woman was thorough.
“I don’t really use it. Plus, my neighbor, Gretchen, was taking care of my cat,” Natalie explained, following Triss. “She didn’t want to fuss with the alarm.”
Triss said nothing as she stepped out of the office and did a walk-through of the kitchen, flipping open cabinets and peeking into the pantry. Natalie followed at her heels, waiting for the go-ahead. At the edge of the kitchen, a short hallway led to the bathroom and bedroom. It was dark, both doors closed. She’d left them that way so Taser would have fewer places to hide from Gretchen. Speaking of Taser...
Natalie glanced around. Usually, her cat greeted her when she came home. Maybe he was in hiding since she’d been gone a few days.
Triss started down the hall, but held up a hand to stop Natalie. “Wait here until I check it out.”
Suppressing impatience, Natalie dutifully retreated back into the living room, standing by the plastic-wrapped couch.
Boxes lined the walls, waiting for the movers to come in a few days. She’d need to cancel, assuming her landlord would let her renew the lease. The thought didn’t upset her. She’d always felt at home in this little place, with its original brickwork and carved mantel fireplace, its hand-scraped wood floors that had seen over a hundred years of living.
Down the short hallway, Triss entered the bathroom, flipped on the light and spent a few seconds inside. Then she turned back into the hall and opened the door to the bedroom. A loud thud sounded from the room, and Natalie jumped, edging toward the sound.
“Triss?” she called, rushing toward the bedroom door.
“I’m fine,” Triss said. “It was just your cat.”
Taser tore out of the bedroom, skidding across the sleek wood floor as if fleeing sure death. Heart in her throat, Natalie laughed at her own jumpiness and crouched down to pet him. He was a six-month-old spitfire, and Natalie loved him, with his charcoal gray coat and white-tipped tail.
“Did you miss me, little guy?” She scratched him behind the ear as he purred. How had he wound up trapped in there? “What were you doing in my room, any—”
A sharp yelp came from her bedroom.
Natalie shot to her feet as a loud crash sounded.
“Triss? Are you okay?” She ran down the hall and into the bedroom. She’d piled furniture and boxes too high in her room. Now they were spread across the floor, two on top of Triss, their contents spilling out.
“Triss!” She knelt beside her next to the bed near the adjoining bathroom, shoved a couple of heavy boxes away. Triss’s gun lay by her right foot. There was blood on the floor, pooling under her left side.
A lot of blood.
Too much for a fall. And Natalie would have heard the gun if it had accidentally gone off. Had she knocked into something? Broken glass and fallen on top of it?
“Triss?” She felt for a pulse, relieved at the slow, steady beat she found.
“Stand up,” a man growled behind her, and Natalie screamed, jumping back from Triss and pivoting around.
A nylon mask covered his face, his features distorted and terrifying. Almost as terrifying as the blood-covered knife in his hand.
He moved away from her closet and blocked the bedroom doorway. Her only way of escape.
Natalie screamed again, backing up hard against her nightstand. Her attention darted to Triss’s gun on the floor.
“Don’t!” the intruder roared, and he lunged at her. Natalie scrambled up onto the bed in a desperate move to evade him.
He followed her, catching her hair in his hands as she jumped off the bed again. Her head yanked backward, the knife flashing by her face as he slid off the bed behind her. Tears sprang from her eyes at the ruthless grip of the man’s hand on her hair. It was the man from the beach. She knew it. Knew it from his forceful grip, his smoky odor, the bulk of his body yanking her back against him.
She spun away from his grip with momentum, her rusty self-defense training kicking in as she slammed her hand into his chin with enough force to send him reeling back.
Go, go, go! her mind screamed, and she was trying, sliding across the wood floor, bursting into the hallway, her sights on the front door.
He tackled her from behind, and she went down hard, her knees smacking first, then the side of her face.
Natalie rolled to the side before he could pin her to the ground, kicking back hard. Her heel connected with hard bone, and the intruder grunted, but his gloved hand caught her hair again, whipping her neck back and throwing her onto her back.
Just when she thought she was trapped, she remembered something else she’d learned years ago. Gathering her strength, she jabbed his throat with the side of her hand.
The man made a strangled sound, a hand coming to his throat. It was just a split second, but she used it. Twisting out from under him, she jumped up and flew down the hall, screaming for help. The front door was just feet away.
It registered then that someone was pounding on it. Sirens wailed, just blocks away.
“Natalie!” Luke’s voice sounded from the hallway. The door shook violently under the pounding. “I’m breaking this door down!”
Natalie reached out for the dead bolt, but Luke slammed against the door again and she reared back as the frame cracked, but the door held.
She swung a glance over her shoulder, feeling blindly for the lock. The intruder hadn’t followed her. Natalie fumbled with the dead bolt and the door flew open as she unlocked it, Luke and Roman bursting in.
“Some guy just dropped off the porch roof and took off,” came a voice on Roman’s radio. “Turning around to try to follow.”
“Are there others?” Luke asked.
“I only saw one.”
Luke and Roman exchanged looks.
“I’m on it,” Roman said, and ran out the door.
“Are you okay?” Luke asked, settling his hands on her shoulders, his eyes skimming her for any signs of injury. “Where’s Triss?”
“She’s hurt.” She ran back to her room, Luke following, and sank down on the floor next to Triss. Luke crouched over his sister, pulling back her jacket to reveal the growing bloodstain on her side. The sirens outside drew closer.
“We need to stop the bleeding,” he muttered, yanking off his jacket and pressing it against his sister’s side.
Triss moaned, her eyes opening. “Where’d he go?” she asked, struggling to sit up.
Luke pressed his free hand against her shoulder, holding her down. “Nowhere you can follow. You’re getting an ambulance ride.”
“He was hiding behind the boxes.” Her words were slurred, her eyes half closed.
“He hit you with something?” Luke asked, his voice gruff, hand gentle as he pulled aside her dark hair and eyed a reddening bruise near her eye.
“I don’t know. He came around the boxes and got me with a knife.” She closed her eyes, and Luke frowned.
“Try to stay awake,” Luke urged his sister, and Natalie’s heart ached with the sight of the tears in his eyes, the pallor of Triss’s skin, the blood poured out on the floor.
Triss’s eyes fluttered open, just barely. “I’ll be okay,” she whispered, letting her eyes drift shut again. Natalie wasn’t sure she was right. Even the trample of paramedics and police charging up the stairs didn’t reassure her. The hospital was nearly ten minutes away and Triss was still bleeding, bright red seeping straight through Luke’s jacket and into his hand.
It had been years since Natalie had really prayed about anything, but desperation turned the clock back nearly two decades, to the day her brother had gone missing, and suddenly her eyes were closing, her hand slipping over Triss’s shoulder, and she was pleading silently with God to save Triss’s life.
She knew better. She’d prayed when Liam had gone missing, but he’d still been murdered. And she’d prayed when depression had latched onto her mother and strangled her will to live, but her mother had still died. Still, it was the only thing she knew to do, the only hope she had to cling to. Because if Luke’s sister died, Natalie would never forgive herself.
Seventeen minutes in, and hours to go. Luke shifted in his chair and scanned the nearly empty waiting room. Triss had lost a lot of blood. Nearly three pints to be exact. The nine-inch blade had found its way straight to her right kidney, and the injury was serious. If she died... No. He wouldn’t let himself go there. She was a fighter. She would live.
But doubt crept in and assaulted him with memories. Newborn Triss, shaking and wailing in what he later learned were the cruel effects of cocaine withdrawal. The frail baby who never cried for food because she learned crying never got her what she needed, anyway. Luke had figured it out himself before he’d turned eleven. He’d read up on baby care, and he’d set alarms for himself during the day and at night to remember to feed her, since their mother couldn’t be counted on.
Toddler Triss, sweating, near death, left in the car when Luke had come home from school the last Friday they’d spent as a family of four. Triss, the kindergarten spitfire, knocking down girls and boys on the playground. The quiet preteen silently enduring unspeakable abuse at the hands of foster parents. The teen runaway, and her return. She couldn’t die now. Not when she’d overcome so much. Not when she was finally making headway in the world. Going to school, going to work, setting goals and achieving them. Even smiling from time to time.
He rubbed his hands over his face, fighting the unfamiliar sting of tears. Crying had never done him any good. But for once in his life, he could do without the responsibility of the world on his shoulders. He’d gotten a taste of what that felt like a few years ago when Aimee had entered his life. Maybe he’d been lonely for too long to know the difference between love and codependency, or maybe he just hadn’t realized how much he longed for companionship, but there was something about having someone around to bounce ideas off of, to share grief and worries with, to pray with, that introduced him to what he’d been missing. It wasn’t something he spent a lot of time fixating on, but it was times like this—sitting alone in a hospital waiting room, hoping to hear that his sister was going to survive—when he remembered what he didn’t have.
Footsteps and quiet voices from down the hall drew his attention, his pulse racing as he half expected a doctor to round the corner. Too soon for good news, which could only mean one thing...
But it wasn’t a doctor who rounded the corner. It was Roman—with Natalie.
“How’s she doing?”
Roman was asking the question, but Luke’s attention was on Natalie. She appeared relaxed in white jeans and a blue hoodie, but Luke’s response to her was anything but relaxed, his rapid-fire pulse surprising him.
“Surgery started about twenty minutes ago,” Luke answered. “I thought you’d be at your dad’s by now.”
“We thought you could use some company.” Natalie handed him a bottle of water and took a seat next to him.
Roman stayed by the entrance, leaning against the door frame. “She had to get her shoulder stitched back up. ER took a long time.”
“I didn’t realize you’d been hurt,” Luke said.
“I didn’t, either. Roman noticed the blood before I did.”
“And I told her she probably needed sleep more than you needed company, but she didn’t agree.” If Luke knew Roman at all, he knew exactly what he’d been thinking: the safest place for Natalie was back at her dad’s house. But Shield’s purpose was to protect their clients during their everyday life. Roman would have pointed out his concerns, but he wouldn’t interfere with personal decisions. He would simply set up security to the best of his ability to mitigate the risks.
Luke turned back at Natalie, caught off guard by a swell of emotion that somehow crossed the barrier of gratefulness and moved right into a deep sense that Natalie understood him.
“You’ve been through enough. You don’t need to stay here. It could be hours.”
She looked at him seriously, her expression unreadable. “Do you want me to leave?”
“I just don’t want you to feel obligated.”
“I don’t.”
Luke felt Roman’s eyes on them, and he glanced up to find him turning from the room. “Jordan’s just in the hall here,” he said. “I’ll check in with the rest of the team and be back in a few.”
Seconds passed silently after Roman left, and then Natalie spoke up. “I’m sorry. I should never have left the hospital tonight.”
“Triss shouldn’t have, either, and I shouldn’t have let either of you walk out of that cafeteria.” He ran a hand down his jaw and sighed.
“You and your sister seem close.”
“I pretty much raised her. My brother, Cal, too.”
“What about your parents?”
“Dad was never in the picture,” he said. “Mom was an addict. Disappeared for days at a time. She was in and out of rehab, winning us back in the courts and then losing us again.”
“So you took on the role of parent?”
“Something like that. I got books from the library, read about babies and figured out Triss needed a nap and feeding schedule. I found an old broken stroller waiting for the dump and rigged it up so we could go on walks. Even got a bedtime routine going.”
“Mr. Mom.”
“That was me. In some ways, I liked it. But it was a lot of pressure. And the worst part was we were always hungry.”
“I can’t imagine,” Natalie murmured.
“At some point in middle school I realized that Mom probably wouldn’t be around much longer,” he continued. “I knew the system by then. We’d already been split up a few times, sent to different foster homes. I worked really hard, graduated high school two years early, worked my way through college by the time I was nineteen. So I could fight for custody of my siblings if I had to.”
“And you had to?”
He nodded. “Mom died two days before I graduated.”
He saw the sympathy in Natalie’s eyes, was about to assure her that he’d managed okay, but her hand settled on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” Everything good and comforting and warm was in that simple touch, in the soft expression in her eyes. Her sincerity took his breath away. All his life, he’d taken care of other people, and he liked it that way. Only, he craved more. He longed for someone to share life and burdens with.
He pushed his thoughts aside. They were pointless, fruitless thoughts, anyway. Clients were off-limits, especially emotionally vulnerable clients in turmoil. “We all struggle,” he reasoned. “If we didn’t, we wouldn’t grow.” That was a hard-won truth. Another truth was that there were days when he didn’t want to struggle alone. Where he thought about things like family and children and going home to someone who was as anxious to see him as he was to see her. So far in life, every time he’d risked loving, he’d ended up losing. He was logical enough to realize that staying single was not the answer, but also practical enough to be cautious about jumping into a relationship.
When Natalie didn’t immediately respond, Luke changed the subject. “Any word on the intruder? I feel out of the loop.”
“I think Roman just wants you to be able to concentrate on your sister,” Natalie said. “But there’s not much to report. The police are canvassing for an abandoned car nearby, checking cameras on the street.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
She shook her head. “But I’m almost positive it was the guy from the beach. Not sure how he could have followed us, though.”
Luke shrugged. “Anyone could guess you’d stop by your place sooner rather than later. Or maybe he didn’t know. Maybe he was looking for something and you caught him by surprise.”
Natalie shuddered. “Triss’s gun was right there on the floor,” she pointed out. “He could have grabbed it when I ran out of the room. Why didn’t he?”
Luke shook his head, just as puzzled as she was. “We’ll have to go back later. Take a look around and see if anything’s missing. Roman’s activating the security system and putting a few guys over there.”
“He told me about the plan to stay at my dad’s for a few days. I’ll need to pick up my cat. Thank goodness Gretchen didn’t walk in on the guy.”
“The team can take care of the cat until you move back in.”
She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue. “What did the doctor say about Triss?”
“They’re going to try to save the kidney. She’s lost a lot of blood.” An ache rose in his throat, sharp and unexpected. He cleared it away.
Natalie set her hand on his arm again, tenderness and compassion in her touch. “I’ve only spent a few minutes with your sister, but it was enough time to tell me she’s a strong woman. That’s supposed to be half the battle in a medical crisis, right? The will to live?”
Luke couldn’t help but smile at that. “She’s always been a fighter.”
Natalie returned the smile and started to draw her hand away, but Luke covered it with his own, keeping her there a moment longer.
“Thanks for coming back tonight.” She couldn’t possibly know how much the gesture meant to him. “I’m sure the hospital is the last place you want to be right now.”
A spark of humor shone in her eyes. “Well, I don’t know. My other option was to settle in for the night at my dad’s—and he has a lot of questions for me.” She tugged her hand out from under his, grabbed a magazine from the coffee table and started flipping through it.
Luke saw right through the act, knew she was rejecting the inexplicable connection that kept sizzling between them. He also knew it was for the best. “So. By process of elimination...”
“Hospital won out,” she filled in, flashing a grin up at him and then turning her attention back to the magazine.
That was fine. She could spend the rest of the evening silently reading a magazine next to him, and Luke would be content. Something about Natalie’s presence felt right and solid and like everything he’d been missing out on for years. It wouldn’t last. It couldn’t. But he’d hold on to that feeling while he had it.
A whirring hum sounded from around the corner, and Luke watched the entryway, surprised when a double-wide stroller came into view, Hunter Knox at the helm with Roman’s wife, Ella, by his side.
Luke jumped up, surprised. “What are you two doing here?”
“Keeping you company.” Hunter walked around the stroller, clasping Luke in a quick hug. “How’s she doing?”
“Haven’t heard anything for a while. Still in surgery.” Luke’s attention strayed back to the stroller, where Roman’s very pregnant wife was tucking a blanket more securely over Hunter’s two sleeping toddlers.
“It’s past ten—you didn’t have to come. And bringing the kids out and everything...”
Hunter grinned. “My kids just about kill me with their energy, but they make up for it in sleep. They didn’t make a peep from their beds, to the car, to the stroller.”
“I haven’t been sleeping much lately, anyway,” Ella added as she straightened and then hugged Luke awkwardly, her swollen belly getting in the way. “Roman said Hunter would let me tag along.” Her attention shifted toward Natalie, and she turned, beelining across the room to introduce herself, taking the seat that had until moments ago been Luke’s.
More voices began filtering down the hall, and Luke fought back rising emotion as more friends and coworkers began to fill the once-empty space, talking quietly, offering encouragement, just sitting together waiting.
When had he last felt like this? So supported? So cared about? Had he ever felt like this? He couldn’t bring up one memory. And then Roman reappeared, surveying the scene with a nod.
“Looks like everyone’s here,” he said, crossing the room to his wife and holding out a hand to her.
She smiled and stood, folding her hand into his and leaning close, her gaze searching out the faces of the friends who had shown up. “I thought we could all pray together,” she suggested. “Maybe just all circle around?”
Ella held out a hand to Natalie, and Luke’s heart swelled when she took it to join the quickly forming circle. He got the sense that she didn’t pray much, but she was willing to step out of her comfort zone for his sister, for him.
The circle widened, hands linking, and Natalie met his eyes, holding her other hand out to him. He grasped it tightly, the smooth warmth of her skin a balm to his worry as new hope rose—not just for his sister, but also for lasting friendships that would help carry him no matter what the future held.