Allen felt like he’d abducted the woman, instead of rescuing her. Izzie hadn’t had much to say about what was happening to her and he’d known it. With the sedation, it was obvious she hadn’t been truly able to make informed decisions.
He winced at that. Not something he was proud of being a part of, but the end greatly outweighed the means.
They had ganged up on her. It didn’t matter that her friend had been the mastermind with the plan or that the regional head of the TSP had thought it was the only idea that would work at all.
No one had been able to find her uncle. Apparently, every other relative she had was on a totally different continent.
Allen still felt like he’d scooped her up and run off with her.
Which was exactly what he had done.
He pulled his car into the garage of the house his sister had inherited from Logan and killed the engine. The only ones who knew the plan he’d concocted had been Elliot and Rafe—and Nikkie Jean.
No one had dared consider keeping her in the dark.
Izzie dozed next to him, her cheek scraped up and her hair still a little damp and curling over the steri-strip Nikkie Jean had put in her eyebrow.
Allen’s plan was to keep her at Logan’s place until after the worst of the storms.
They’d leave first thing in the morning. Early.
All he had to do was get some supplies together and find the keys to the luxury van that Logan’s parents had bought three years before his father had died from a heart attack and his mother from complications from diabetes a handful of months later. Linda and Barry had had plans to travel the country and enjoy time with each other after retirement. That hadn’t happened.
They hadn’t seen what had happened to their only living son. It would have broken their hearts. Then again, if they’d been alive when Logan had been injured, maybe they would have been able to see that he’d needed more help than Allen had given him.
Maybe they would have saved him and prevented what had happened. Unlike Allen.
He’d always have the guilt for giving Logan those damned Solpalmitraln pills.
Well, he wasn’t going to have someone else’s death on his conscience. Allen made a snap decision.
Every moment they delayed leaving Finley Creek, the more risk she was in. Storm or not.
He’d rather face Mother Nature again than risk her being attacked.
He had the keys to that van right there. He’d been there the day they’d bought that van; had toured it with Logan, making good-natured jokes the whole time at Barry’s expense.
Everything they would need was either in that van—or they could get quickly. What more did they need than that?
Nikkie Jean would be the one to spread the rumors that he was filling in for Rafe at a teaching conference at the largest medical school in Brazil for however long he needed to keep Izzie safe. It wasn’t too far-fetched—Rafe had received offers to do that before. As had Allen. He’d even done one conference in Mexico City shortly before Rafe had returned to Finley Creek.
Izzie’s disappearance so soon after the shooting was going to be a lot harder to explain away.
They’d come up with saying she’d been in a car accident. Elliot was going to see that a minor injury-causing accident was reported in the police reports, no names. With enough details to make it believable.
Allen grabbed a high-end drill from the tool bench—Logan’s father had designed engines for NASA—and removed the license plate from his car. It was just a way to delay anyone identifying the car if they broke in. Which he didn’t think would happen. His name wasn’t on this property anywhere.
His sister’s was, and that gave him some serious concern.
A moment of regret for how he was leaving Shelby struck him. Shelby would worry. He had no doubt about that. He’d call Elliot when he could, and ask the other man to personally see to it that Shelby was told Allen was ok. That he was helping…a friend in a bad situation and that Shelby shouldn’t worry.
Allen unlocked the van and did a quick inventory. He was not someone who camped, by any means, but he had cold hard cash in his bank account. If he’d known Barry Lanning well at all…
Allen opened the glove box and found exactly what he’d expected to find under the registration. There was an envelope with five thousand dollars in cash right there.
Logan’s father had been a bit paranoid at times—he’d always had cash on hand. It was a testament to how bad Logan had gotten after his parents’ deaths that the cash hadn’t been found.
Barry’s paranoia was going to pay off for Allen now.
Allen would stop off at a bank and pull what he could from an ATM before they left the county. An indoor ATM. He didn’t want the van spotted.
Allen wasn’t into subterfuge and maneuvering. That wasn’t his thing and never had been. He wasn’t going to do anything that would risk her. He checked on her quickly.
To make this work, he’d have to be very careful.
Izzie was still sound asleep in his passenger seat. Allen left her there and unlocked the kitchen door and stepped into Logan’s parents’ home. A fresh wave of grief hit him, like it did every time he was there.
Maybe that was why neither he nor Shelby were in a great hurry for her to move there yet.
Too many good memories.
It had been his second home for a while there. He wouldn’t have made it through losing his own parents and being suddenly saddled with a fifteen-year-old without Logan’s family to help him back then.
The Lannings had become their family.
There were guns in the study, locked in cabinets that Shelby had mentioned having removed when she finally moved in.
Shelby was severely frightened of guns after what had happened to her five years ago. There was no way she was going to be able to move in with weapons in the house. Allen had promised to see them sold. Tonight, Barry’s collection was going to come in handy. Tonight, he had more respect for the man Barry had been than he ever had been before. Barry had taken Allen and Logan shooting several times, making certain both of them had known exactly how to handle those weapons.
He’d told Allen a tool was only as good as the man wielding it, and that he hoped what he had taught them was never needed. Allen had needed to know it.
It was one of his father’s guns that Logan had used that night.
Allen flinched as he remembered what had happened.
No. He wasn’t going to let himself think of that. Not tonight.
Not with Izzie there, dependent on him.
He wanted, needed, to protect her. Allen knew himself well enough to understand that.
No doubt, it stemmed from his failure to protect Jess, and Shelby. Lacy, Jillian, and Ariella. Izzie and Nikkie Jean before. Logan.
For some reason, he’d conflated Jess and Izzie in his head. Dark hair, dark eyes, targeted at the hospital where they worked. Vulnerable and almost alone.
Needing him. Even though Jess had needed him for selfish reasons, she’d still made him feel needed before he’d found out the truth about her.
Allen missed being needed. He understood himself well enough to know that.
Izzie wasn’t a damned thing like Jess. Izzie was far more…real. She probably wouldn’t welcome his interference in her life—once she tuned back into reality. He didn’t care.
He was going to keep that woman safe. Period.
Honest. She was honest to a damned fault—and loved to point out his failings to him.
Unlike the rest of the nurses on staff—this one had no bones telling him when she thought he was wrong. She didn’t tiptoe around him, either.
He respected that.
Allen found what he was looking for in the gun cabinet in Barry’s study. There in the floor underneath a rug that cost more than some people made in a year, was another forty thousand dollars in stacks of twenties, fifties, and hundreds tucked away in a tiny, fireproof safe.
He’d not have to hit an ATM after all. Forty thousand would keep them for a long, long time. If they were careful.
Allen took it all, including the safe—though technically he supposed it was Shelby’s, as the contents of the house and the house itself was fully in her name. He’d pay it back—when this ended and Izzie was safe.
He had to face the facts. He had no confidence that the TSP would find Izzie’s attackers anytime soon. This could drag out indefinitely. They had no idea how long this was going to last.
They needed that money.
He returned to the garage in time to see a still-drowsy Izzie climb gingerly out of the passenger seat, a terrified look on her pretty face.
One curl stuck straight up on her head. Never had she looked more like a lost waif than she did right then.
The sweatshirt Nikkie Jean had helped her dress in was Allen’s and far too big. It hung almost to the knees of her jade green scrubs.
“Can you explain what am I doing here?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I did.” Big dark eyes stared at him suspiciously. Fearfully.
“Do you remember the attack in the W4HAV parking lot?”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I think so. Starting to. It’s a bit cloudy.”
“That’s the sedative they gave you before fixing your arm. We all agreed that would be the quickest, quietest way to keep your presence unknown. It’ll wear off shortly.”
Her eyes were trained on the gun in his hand. Wide and scared. She would be after what had happened to her.
Allen had almost forgotten he still held it. He put it in the duffel bag with the rest of the supplies he’d scrounged together. “Elliot Marshall and Rafe decided that you needed to be removed from the city before whoever has targeted you realized you escaped. If they already haven’t.” He wasn’t going to lie to her or sugarcoat. This woman was made of steel, despite her fragile appearance at the moment. “I volunteered to make that happen.”
“Why? Why you?” She rubbed a small, slender hand over her eyes, seemingly started to see it encased in a temporary air splint. When she looked at him, all the questions were written right there for him to see.
“I made the most sense.” It was a wonder the crazy woman was even on her feet. Allen stepped toward her.
Izzie immediately stepped back. “Where exactly are we?”
He hesitated. There had been no love lost between the nurses and Logan. Far from it. He’d started to hear rumors within a week after Logan had died about how his friend had treated some of the less experienced—younger, more easily targeted—nurses around the ER.
Apparently, according to Nikkie Jean and Lacy, Izzie had been a favorite target. “We’re at Logan’s place. He left it to my sister. I needed a place to hide my car.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re leaving. The two of us. Together. That was one thing Marshall was clear on. We’re leaving Finley Creek.” Allen made a split-second decision. Izzie was stubborn and hard-headed. She was likely to balk the instant she realized what his plan actually was. “As quickly as we possibly can.”
It was probably best if he seized the upper hand now while she wasn’t quite capable of fighting back.
The woman was bound to argue. They didn’t have the time for that.
He tossed the duffel bag with the gun and spare clothes he’d grabbed from some of Logan’s old things from the guestroom closets into the van.
Allen stalked to her. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her gently until they were practically nose to nose. Those eyes of hers—told him everything she was feeling. “We’re leaving in that van. You are going to actually sit down, shut up, and do what you’re told until we get somewhere safe. I don’t want you to worry about anything but resting. I’ll handle all the heavy lifting tonight.”
Drowsy brown eyes stared at him. She was shocked. He didn’t care.
It was best to get the upper hand with this woman early on. Otherwise, she’d be challenging him every step of the way.
He stared at her, feeling like something indefinable was shifting within him. Like his world was changing in an instant and he had to be prepared for whatever came. It would most definitely involve her.
Izzie kicked him.
Right in the shin.
Allen grunted and dropped her—a little more carelessly than he should have. He’d have to remember that the little waspish woman would sting when she got angry enough. “That was a bit unnecessary, Nurse Izzie.”
“Hands to yourself, Dr. Jacobson.”
“In the van.” He inspected her quickly. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
“No. I’m not getting in that van with you. I’m not made of glass, you know—you didn’t hurt me. I can take care of myself. Despite recent evidence to the contrary.”
“Izzie, don’t make me put you there. I can do it, too. You won’t be able to stop me. Now, in, lady. I’m tired and sore, and I want to get someplace safe for the night sooner rather than later. You’re going to have to tolerate me for a few days.” Weeks. Elliot had indicated it could be a few weeks when he’d thanked Allen for stepping up. Told him again that he didn’t have to do this. There was no way Allen was going to tell the woman that, though.
“Why you?” She raised her chin and shot him a challenging look, just visible in the low light of the garage. “How did I get stuck with you instead of Jake or someone else from the TSP? I wouldn’t mind being on the lam with Daniel McKellen or Mike Evers.”
The last was said around a yawn. He’d make a point of checking her every few hours. Drowsiness could be a sign of complications from the concussion. Although a sedative did the exact same thing.
“Anyone but me, huh?” He wrapped his fingers around the sweatshirt band. She wasn’t escaping him. “Well, I’m the one you’re stuck with. I’m the one who carried you into the damned hospital. I’m the one who made certain you were going to be ok. I’m the one who fought to protect you tonight. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. For some reason, I’m the one trusted to keep you safe now. I take that seriously.”
“Why don’t I remember any of this?” She was trembling beneath his hands. Allen tightened his hold.
She truly was an attractive, intriguing woman. Big extra-dark brown eyes were surrounded by long black eyelashes that almost looked fake.
Fairy eyes.
Her skin was faintly olive. There were freckles on her high cheekbones, but they were light. A man had to look extra-close to see them. Her lips were pink and soft looking.
The chin was small and pointed and stubborn. Extra stubborn, if a chin could be.
No surprise there.
She was too thin—a testament to the hell she’d recently been through—and a bit shorter than average.
Quietly beautiful in an understated way.
Allen took a step toward the van, guiding her with him. She wasn’t going to like what he did, but damn it, he was going to keep her safe.
“In, lady. We have an escape to make at the moment.”