Patrick shoved the curtain aside and stepped in. Tucker padded to Nate’s side and set his chin on the bed.
“Look who it is.” The words died on her lips as she realized Patrick was wearing Eric’s jacket, holding a ball cap with the word Police across the front.
All his attention was on Nate.
Jennie said, “He woke up a couple of minutes ago. He’s still pretty groggy.”
Patrick approached the bed. “Hey, buddy.”
“Hi.” Nate moved his hand and stroked Tucker’s head.
She figured her son didn’t know what to call him. Patrick or Dad. She squeezed Nate’s arm, wanting to tell him that they were all new at this. Still figuring it out. This was going to be a whole lot of trial and error.
She said, “The doctor signed off. They’re releasing Nate as soon as the nurse comes back with the paperwork and they get a wheelchair up here.”
“I can walk.”
“You don’t think it might be cool to ride in one?” she asked him. “Because that’s the only way you’re getting out of here.”
Nate made a face, his lips mushed together.
“Yeah, yeah.” Jennie grinned. If he was giving her that expression, then he felt pretty good. The lasting effects of being kidnapped would show themselves, and likely wouldn’t be physical. But that was a worry for tomorrow. Right now she was concerned about where they would go.
Before she could ask, Patrick eased down onto the side of the bed. “How are you feeling, Nate?”
“Pretty good.” His little boy face crinkled into upset.
“What?” Patrick leaned forward. “Tell me what, buddy.”
“I—” He glanced at her. Why the guilty look on his face?
“Whatever it is, it’s okay,” Jennie said.
“I don’t wanna go home.” He sounded like the little boy he had been, using phrasing he’d grown out of lately.
Jennie pushed away the rush of...grief. And the sheen of tears. He’d lost the feeling of comfort and safety in his own home. That was definitely a reason to grieve.
Patrick answered before she could reply. “My partner found us a place to go. A short-term rental, where we’ll be safe.”
“Is Tucker going to be there?”
Hearing his voice, the dog jumped up to set both front paws on the side of the bed. Nate laughed.
Patrick said, “Tucker. Off.”
The dog hopped down just as the nurse and an orderly came in. The nurse handed Jennie the discharge papers and the orderly helped Nate into the wheelchair. Her son seemed more tired than anything else. Jennie’s injuries stung, but she didn’t care about that when Nate had a bigger knot on the back of his head than she did. No concussion. She had to remember that.
Thank You, God. Keep us safe. Please.
Jennie accepted the paperwork, stuffing the pages in her purse without even reading them. Patrick took the bag she’d packed for herself and Nate and slung it over his shoulder even though he had Tucker’s leash, as well.
She walked by Nate’s shoulder as they made their way out. “Are you going to tell me what the plan is?”
Patrick glanced over. She wondered if he was even going to answer her whispered question.
“Or why you’re wearing Eric’s jacket.”
“I drew the line at swapping pants,” he said. “Especially since he’s four inches shorter than me.”
She grinned. “And that?” She motioned to the ball cap.
“Oh.” He looked down at the hat in his hand. “I almost forgot.” He shifted the duffel on his shoulder, and they were off again. The hospital orderly wheeled them in the direction of the elevator.
“Nate.”
Her son turned, the hope in his eyes almost too much for her to handle. At just his father’s mention of his name.
“Do you wanna wear this?” Patrick asked.
She didn’t know if he was aware he’d used the same words as Nate. Stress, fear and anxiety changed how a person spoke and behaved. She wanted her son to meet his father under normal, calm and carefree circumstances. But this was what God had given them.
“It’s for me?”
“Yeah, buddy.” He settled the ball cap on Nate’s head.
“Cool!”
Jennie chuckled then covered her mouth with her hand. It was probably a disguise. A way to claim his son and keep Nate’s identity under wraps as they left the hospital and headed for what amounted to a safe house.
“Mom! Look at it!”
“It’s very cool.”
Patrick glanced at her, an expression on his face she hadn’t seen in a long time. Behind Nate and the orderly, she reached over and took his free hand. She gave it a squeeze, then loosened her grip. Patrick didn’t.
He kept hold of her hand all the way to the elevator, and only let go to push the button so they could go down.
“So you and Eric traded jackets?”
“And he took my car.”
She knew there was more he wasn’t saying. Patrick wanted to keep them protected, so he was having his partner drive his car. If someone wanted to get to them, they would follow “Patrick.”
Or the person might stick around, thinking he’d gone. They would look for Jennie and Nate, who were the real targets.
There was a lot about police work she would never understand. But Patrick had managed to find her and Nate on the worst night of their lives. Now Nate looked at him like his father could do anything. Certain that Patrick could make a plan to keep them safe. The expression looked a whole lot like hero worship.
Jennie would know, because she felt the same way. She always had. And it was clear now that maybe she always would.
That was the deep-down truth. But the wall between that and what she allowed herself to feel was the pain she’d endured for years, thinking he’d abandoned her.
Despite the fact it had been her father’s doing, she just couldn’t get past the pain. The loneliness she had suffered, raising her son by herself.
Right now was about him getting to know Nate—alongside protecting him. He loved Nate and would be part of his life—and hers because of it. But he’d moved on with his life. Jennie didn’t know if she would ever be able to move on with hers.
Not with the hurt so fresh.
Patrick wasn’t here for her, and he wasn’t sticking around to get into a relationship. When she fell in love again, it would be with someone for whom she would be the priority. The one that someone was wholly devoted to and would never leave.
As much as she might want things to be otherwise, she had to face facts.
That someone wasn’t Patrick. It never had been.
The elevator doors slid open and the orderly wheeled Nate inside. Patrick moved alongside the man in his scrubs. They both shifted at the same time, blocking the doorway so she had to wait to enter. Finally it cleared, and Jennie shifted to follow.
Someone grabbed the back of her jacket, tugging her away from the elevator doors. “What—”
Whoever it was shoved her before she could turn, and she stumbled. Nearly fell.
“Jennie!” Patrick’s voice rang out. Tucker barked.
She looked back to see Tucker race out between the doors before they slid shut. Gone. She glanced at the man standing behind her.
One of their kidnappers!
Tucker growled.
The orderly blocked his way to the closed doors. Patrick resisted the urge to shove the man aside.
“Mom!”
Patrick turned to Nate, still seeing in his mind the second she’d been dragged back. Pulled away from the elevator.
“What happened? Where is she?”
“I don’t know.” Patrick wanted answers to those same questions. He moved to the panel of buttons. Emergency stop? Or should they just try to go back up? “We need to—”
The orderly cut him off. “Don’t press any of the buttons.”
Patrick turned to him, wondering why the man’s tone sounded so threatening. “Why wouldn’t I—” He knew the answer to his question and didn’t need to finish saying it.
Behind Nate’s back, the orderly had a gun pointed at him and his son. Not one of them in particular. But the fact he could shoot either—probably faster than it would take Patrick to pull his gun—wasn’t good at all.
He didn’t know what to say except, “Don’t.”
Cold rage settled over him, along with a healthy dose of fear. If something happened to Nate, while he stood there...forced to watch.
His son of only hours—all Patrick had ever had with him—would be dead. Because he’d failed. If Jennie was somewhere, safe and alive, Patrick would have to tell her.
She would never forgive him. Not when he’d promised to take care of them both.
His fingers drifted to his own weapon. But what could he do? Start a war that would result in far too many innocent casualties.
The gunman saw it. “Put that on the floor. Slowly. Then kick it toward me.”
Patrick shook his head as he studied the man’s face. Not one of the kidnappers Jennie had identified. This man wasn’t Martin Wilson, Nate’s uncle, either. So who was he? Another man on Martin’s payroll. Living on the proceeds of those ill-gotten gains, thinking he could do whatever he wanted with no repercussions from the law.
“You think I’m going to disarm myself?”
No cop worth anything would do that, no matter what was at stake. It was the same as the government’s principal not to negotiate with terrorists. Patrick was never going to give all the power to a bad guy with a gun.
Not. Gonna. Happen.
The cop he was, and the father, would never do that. Not when possession of his own weapon meant protecting the innocent here—his son.
“Don’t think you’ve got much play here.” The gunman smirked. “So unless you want cop brains all over the elevator, you’ll do what I say.”
He wasn’t going to kill Nate. Whether by principal, which meant he had at least some convictions even if it wasn’t much, or because he’d been ordered not to kill the boy... Did the why even matter?
Patrick had that one thing working in his favor. And he was going to use that to get Nate to safety, put this man in cuffs and find Jennie. That was the only acceptable outcome here. Even when all hope was lost, there was always a way to find a victory. His cop mentor had taught him that.
They saw ugly every day. It was easy to forget that there was still good in the world. Right now Patrick needed hope and a second chance.
Was this guy one of the dirt bikers, here to get revenge for his maimed friend?
He hadn’t counted on them when he’d made his plan, determined to get Nate and Jennie safe from whatever her brother had planned.
Now he realized exactly how thoroughly he’d miscalculated, even with Sheriff Johns providing a female deputy to go with Eric and act as Jennie’s double.
Now his K-9 partner was with Jennie instead of here to help him search for her.
First he had to disarm this guy and get Nate to safety. Then Patrick was going to rescue her. Tucker just had to protect her until he got there.
Nate shifted, still sitting in the wheelchair. “Dad.”
Before the gunman could react, Patrick said, “I’ll get you back to him soon, buddy.” He had to play this like the kid was just his charge. Not that he was Nate’s father—a man with everything to lose if this went wrong.
Or if the gunman recognized precisely how much leverage he had.
Nate sniffed. Patrick wouldn’t blame him if he gave away too much. That wouldn’t be fair. He was a smart kid, but even a rookie cop could unintentionally divulge information in a high-stress situation.
“I’m not going to let you take the boy.” Patrick motioned at Nate with a flick of his fingers. “You think I won’t get fired if I let something happen to him?”
The gunman’s lips puffed out, his expression belligerent. “You think I care?”
“I’ll be better off dead with benefits for my family than alive and disgraced, with nothing. So go ahead.” Patrick patted his shirt—underneath which was a vest.
Any second now, the elevator doors would open. He needed a distraction. Anything. Something. The upper hand, even for a split second, to get the jump on this guy.
The gunman studied him, probably trying to figure out if Patrick was just reckless or if he was actually serious.
Anything to buy him a few extra seconds.
“What’s the plan, huh? Take him to your boss. For what?”
“What do you care?” the gunman asked. “You’ll be dead.”
“Answering a question with another question. Typical.” Patrick rolled his eyes. It probably didn’t look right. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually ever rolled his eyes before in his life. “But I don’t think you’ll get far. This is a hospital. Cops. Security. They’re all here, protecting the woman and her son. You know, considering they were kidnapped and all.”
The gunman’s lips twitched. “Heard about that. Shame I wasn’t in on it.”
Patrick didn’t like the look in his eyes at all. The only source of comfort was the fact that Tucker was likely protecting Jennie right now. No way would anyone be able to take her again, not with his dog there.
Nate twisted in his chair to look at the man. He reached down for the wheels and turned them opposite directions, rotating the wheelchair toward the gunman.
What was he...?
“You’re going to die. The kid and me are leaving.”
Patrick pressed his lips together. At least say it right. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Then you’ll be dead before the doors open.”
He wasn’t sure that was true. Patrick wondered if he’d ever killed anyone before, and if he had the stomach to do it now. Still, regardless of the perceived threat level he had to get this situation resolved.
The only thing Patrick could think to do was pray. I asked Jennie to pray. You were supposed to be protecting them.
He wasn’t sure how he’d feel about a God who didn’t come through for His own children.
“You’re dead, and the kid comes with me. If I don’t call to say I have him, they kill the mom.”
The bottom dropped out of Patrick’s stomach.
Jennie.