Izzie knew this was a gamble. The only information she had to go on was the Snotty Garlic and the slim possibility that whoever had been in that Barratt-Handley limo had been Mel or her husband. Not exactly reliable.
They needed help. With what had happened, there was no way she would ever risk taking Allen to the local hospitals. She’d tried.
The instant she’d pulled into the largest hospital ER in Brownsville, she’d seen the truck.
Waiting.
Only one man this time. That had been enough. There had even been paint scratches all over the front bumper.
The driver hadn’t even tried to hide what they were doing.
There was no way she was risking another ER.
They needed a hiding place and someone capable of bringing the medical help they needed to them. Instead of the other way around.
That meant she needed someone with resources. Someone she could trust.
Allen was holding on, but he was in a lot of pain. They were running out of time; he needed help. She had no clue if the bullet had damaged an artery or not. She didn’t think it had, but she was not going to risk it. A through and through, but it was still bleeding. Steadily, but not copiously. The last time she’d checked, it had slowed, at little. She’d done everything she could think of and was reassured there wasn’t major damage to his shoulder.
What concerned her the most was the head wound. He’d hit his left cheek bone hard enough to do some serious damage, and his forehead had bounced off the floor. She had no clue how he’d fallen forward, but he had. As to how much damage he’d done, she had no way to tell. She wouldn’t know until the swelling went down.
After she’d been certain they weren’t being followed, she’d stopped the van at a gas station and helped him onto the bed, and put Oliver in his kennel.
Her only option for help was on South Padre Island. There was no real hospital there.
There was a hotel there that might have people she knew, though.
The Barratt entourage had been huge. Someone had to be around somewhere. If nothing else, she’d plead and do whatever she had to get someone to even call Mel for help.
She had absolute faith that Mel would help in a heartbeat.
It was what friends did for each other.
She needed help, and she needed it fast. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him in a damned parking lot.
The only safe place she could think to leave him was near the SPI police station in a Dollar General parking lot. She wrote him a quick note and put it next to the bed. Just in case.
The Barratt—SPI was four blocks away.
Izzie moved as fast as she could toward it.
The island had free public transportation.
There it was. The newest South Padre Island hotel.
The Barratt—South Padre.
With a familiar black limousine still parked out in front, one door open while the driver unloaded luggage.
It was the one with purple interior. She’d even ridden in that car.
Hopefully, help would be waiting inside. If not, she would be renting a room in her real name and then calling in the TSP. Calling Jake.
They had already been found.
That was the only plan she really had.
She walked up to the information desk, feeling completely out of place in her cutoff denims from the secondhand store and an old FCU T-shirt of Allen’s.
“May I help you, miss?” the concierge asked. He was too well-trained to say anything, but Izzie knew what he believed. The last place she looked like she belonged was at a Barratt. Even one fifty feet from the beach.
“I’m a friend of Melody Barratt and her husband. I understand they are here today, or Houghton’s cousins. I need to speak with one of them. Please. It’s urgent.”
He frowned. “I’m afraid I cannot release that information. We have a strict privacy policy for all of our guests—and staff.”
“Can you…call her? Tell her Izzie is in the lobby? It’s an emergency. I’ll go over there and won’t even look at you while you do it. But if there’s a Barratt in this hotel, I need…I really. Just please…I need to speak to someone in charge.”
He hesitated.
If she got thrown out, she couldn’t get the help they needed.
His gaze fastened on the blood on her cast and T-shirt. “Is someone hurting you?”
“They will. If I don’t get to see Mel.” Izzie made a point of meeting the older man’s eyes. There was concern there; she hadn’t missed it. “Mel and I have been friends for years. Her sister Jillian and I work together, too. My best friend is engaged to Turner Barratt, too. Please, just let someone know I’m here. I’ll wait. But please hurry. It’s an emergency.”
“Let me make a phone call. I’ll find someone to help you.”
Izzie nodded, half suspecting he was going to call hotel security and toss her right outside on her ass. Or call the police. The TSP didn’t have a branch on the island, but there were city police.
It’s what she would have done.
Houghton had some seriously tight security on Mel at all times. And her family. To protect them. She wouldn’t want to live like that, but Mel loved him. She’d told Izzie once what had happened to Houghton’s mother. His greatest fear was losing Mel.
Like Izzie’s was not making it back to Allen in time. How much that terrified her was something she couldn’t put into words.
Fifteen minutes of watching every entrance for the men who had attacked them earlier, and someone said her name from behind her.
Izzie jerked her head around.
Her eyes met green. Familiar green eyes.
“Chance!” Jillian’s brother-in-law stood there, a worried expression on his too handsome face. “Thank God. We need help.”
“What’s going on? Who hurt you? Who is we, Iz?” He stepped closer after nodding at the concierge once. The older man shot Izzie a kind look then went back to his business. “Izzie, what happened to you?”
“Allen needs help. Right now. He’s been shot again. We were on Highway 550 and were ambushed. They ran us off the road near a guardrail. Allen was trying to get to his gun when they shot at us. He was hit, and he fell. I tried to get the bleeding stopped, but I couldn’t. Now our van is making strange noises, and I think it’s got bullets in the engine somewhere. We can’t go much further. Allen hit his face when he fell down. I can’t fix this myself. I…we can’t go to the hospital. The truck, the men who shot him were in the ER parking lot. I need help, and I didn’t know where else to go, and we were headed to Brownsville and now…”
Izzie made herself calm down. She wouldn’t be able to be any help at all if she was panicking. She’d found help. Real help. That mattered. She knew how to handle herself in a medical emergency. She was a professional. The knowledge that it was the man she loved…now she understood. Now, she got it. “We have to hurry. I had to leave him. I hoped Mel was here. We saw her limo on the exit ramp today. I…we need help.”
He wrapped strong hands around her elbows and turned her to face him. Strong, sure, able to handle things in a crisis; he looked a great deal like his brother—the chief of the TSP.
They could trust Chance. Like they could his brother Elliot.
His presence was starting to help calm her down. Make her somewhat rational again. “I don’t know what to do now.”
“Let me make a phone call, ok? I’m going to have Terrence get you something to drink, ok?” He motioned to the concierge and said something to the older man. She found herself being led to a soft chair fifteen feet away.
She nodded.
Chance called upstairs quickly.
While they waited, she quickly explained what had happened. From the moment the abduction attempt had happened to Elliot and Rafe and Nikkie Jean smuggling her and Allen out. “They caught up with us today. I don’t know how bad the van is, and I need help for him. We need to get him help. He’s probably ok now, but he’s lost a lot of blood. There’s a chance of infection. I have antibiotics to give him, but if I treat him myself, something could go wrong. That’s a risk I’m not willing to take. I think the bullet fragmented.”
He put both hands on her shoulders and turned her toward him. “I don’t know what it is you have stumbled into, Iz. You will be safe here. I can guarantee it. As for Jacobson—I owe him. More than that; I wouldn’t have Brynna if it wasn’t for him. I’m not going to let these sonsofbitches hurt him now when I have a chance to repay the man. What he did for Brynna that day…both days she was hurt. I’ll never be able to repay that.”
“Just…I need to hurry. He’s alone and they could find us. The van isn’t exactly unrecognizable, and it’s out in the open. With obvious damage from gunfire. Close to the police station.”
He looked past her shoulder. Izzie followed his gaze. She fought bursting into tears in an instant. She had never done that before in her life, and she wasn’t going to start now.
Chance’s brothers-in-law stood there. Two of them. Houghton, who had been known to move mountains when needed…and the real answer to her prayer.
“Rafe! Thank God!”
“Izzie,” her boss said. He cupped her cheek lightly, one finger going over the fresh wound. “I’m glad you’re ok, honey. We’ll take a look at this.”
“No. We have to get to Allen. Now. He’s hurt. He’s been shot again. I couldn’t risk taking him to the ER. They were waiting for us. I—”
“Let’s get him,” Houghton said, motioning to someone at her words. One of his guards—someone Izzie had even met before—came hustling up. Houghton gave instructions. “There is a car waiting.”
That was all it took. Chance, Rafe, and Houghton just fixed everything. Maybe it was weak of her, and decidedly un-heroine-like, but Izzie didn’t care.
She just wanted to make certain Allen was going to be ok.