Chapter Twenty-Four

Mikayla walked at a furious pace, trying to burn off the mad and convince herself not to be angry that Linc didn’t understand. He wanted to protect her, but the idea that another safe house awaited her in California was madness.

She slowed her pace. Okay, she acknowledged that most of her agitation came from her feelings for Linc. Waking in his arms had felt so amazingly natural. She’d imagined doing that for the rest of her days. Even in sleep, he’d held her protectively, big hands keeping her close, and when she’d shifted away from him, he’d tightened his hold.

She’d gotten up early because she knew if she’d stayed they would have made love again, tightening their bond even more. Their connection had been so absolute, so overwhelmingly perfect, if she had any hope of remaining whole, she had to get away.

He said he loved her, but love could be its own prison. As devastated as she’d been by her father’s death, her mother’s absolute desolation had been more destructive. Loving her husband with such utter devotion had devastated her, and had nearly destroyed their family. If Mikayla didn’t protect herself, she could love Linc just as completely, leaving herself open and vulnerable.

Which made her a coward.

She continued her circuit of the sparsely populated campground, letting the muted roar of the river and the sun shining in the bright blue sky cool her agitation. As angry as it made her that Linc had been arranging for her to once again go into WITSEC, she’d have to do it. If she could help put Paco Zecena behind bars, then she’d be safe, and so would any number of people who were victims of the cartel.

But what was she going to do about Linc? She’d go back to California and testify, but she’d have to put the brakes on their relationship. She couldn’t be with him and survive with her heart intact.

Her decision should have made her feel more settled. Instead, dread washed through her. Linc would be hurt, but better now. The memory of his utter sincerity when he’d told her he loved her made her wonder if she was too late.

She rounded a curve in the road, passing an old Ford van with Nevada plates. A quick movement from behind the vehicle caught her attention. Mikayla let out a startled yelp even as a dark figure leapt toward her. She recognized Hector Lopez in the fraction of a second before he grabbed her around her neck. With the advantage of surprise he pulled her around the vehicle, away from view from the road.

Blood pounded in her ears and Mikayla tried to beat back the burst of panic. She couldn’t run so she had to fight. With his arm around her neck, she spotted the open sliding door of the van. If he got her inside, she’d be at his mercy. She struck him in the gut with her elbow, and when his grip loosened a fraction, she ducked her chin into the inside of his arm. Pushing with both hands on the elbow joint, she pivoted. The maneuver worked, breaking his hold. She spun, managing to break free and face her attacker. A sneer twisted Lopez’s lips.

“You won’t get away from me this time, bitch.”

She stared in disbelief as, once again, he pulled a knife from his pocket, yanking the blade open.

Was this really happening?

Lopez lunged, and Mikayla scrambled back, frantic to avoid the lethal blade. A thud of running feet came at them and Lopez jerked toward the sound. Like an avenging angel, Linc launched himself at Hector in a flying tackle. The knife blade glinted in the bright morning sun. The two men rolled in the dirt in a tangle of limbs. Both fought viciously, but Lopez was no match for Linc’s sheer size and ferocity. He rammed the heel of his palm into Lopez’s throat, then used an elbow for a solid jab to the solar plexus.

Lopez wheezed, struggling to breathe, giving Linc the opportunity to heave him onto his stomach, face in the dirt. With a knee jammed in his back, Linc wrenched Lopez’s arm behind his back, forcing him to loosen his grip on the blade fisted in his hand. Linc grabbed the knife and folded the blade before sliding it into his back pocket. He pulled out his keys and held them in an outstretched hand.

“My handcuffs are in the Jeep in the glove box. Go get them.”

She’d been okay until she saw a deep red stain seeping through his shirt on his left side. “Linc, you’re bleeding.”

“It’s not bad. Go, now.”

She took the keys and ran back to their campsite. She spotted Janice Weingartner in the golf cart and flagged her down, and asked her to radio for a ranger.

Mikayla’s hands trembled as she fumbled with Linc’s keys. She got the door open and found the handcuffs. She took a precious few moments to grab the first aid kit from her bin before running back to where Linc held Hector Lopez immobilized. Blood had saturated the side of Linc’s shirt and seeped into his jeans.

The golf cart whizzed up to the campsite, Janice at the wheel, Bob riding shotgun, arriving at the same time as Mikayla. She handed the cuffs to Linc. He cinched them around Hector’s wrists, then rose slowly to his feet.

Bob stepped forward, pulling his bottom lip in contemplation. “This here the same fella that caused the trouble before?”

“Yeah,” Linc said, strain evident in his voice.

“Losing a lot of blood there, son. I’ll keep an eye on our assailant if you want to get that injury looked at.”

“Okay.”

“Sit down.” Mikayla took Linc’s arm to lead him to the picnic bench.

The look he shot her set her back on her heels. She’d seen him in a lot of different moods, but she’d never seen him truly angry.

And that anger was directed at her.

He moved carefully, sagging onto the bench, face ashen. Mikayla fumbled open the first aid kit, donning nitrile gloves and tearing open the gauze packaging. She pulled up his bloody shirt and bit back an oath. Blood oozed from the wound beneath his rib cage. Despite his claim to the contrary, this was serious. She pressed a thick pad to the injury.

She turned to Mrs. Weingartner. “Janice, he needs to get to a hospital. Call for a helicopter.”

“God damn it. I don’t want to go to the hospital.” Linc’s words slurred together.

“No cell reception here. I’ll radio it in.”

“You’re going, Linc. Don’t argue.”

He didn’t respond and she glanced up. Eyes glassy, lines on his face set in a ferocious frown, he looked like all his energy was focused on not losing consciousness.

The static-y exchange from Janice’s radio confirmed a medevac chopper would be dispatched. Mikayla added another thick pad of gauze to the soaked one. The amount of blood he’d lost frightened her. She felt her range of vision narrowing so all she could see was Linc. Damn him, he’d thrown himself into danger to protect her.

Her father had done the same thing and ended up dying.

Linc’s breathing was shallow. “Christ, it hurts.”

“I know, I know.” She tamped down the threatening tears. “Linc, you’re going to be okay. You have to be.”

Janice Weingartner spoke at her elbow. “Anything I can do, hon? Chopper is on its way.”

Mikayla shook her head. “I don’t know what else we can do but try to stop the bleeding.” She added more gauze, keeping constant pressure on the wound.

Time slowed. Linc closed his eyes, and Mikayla had never felt so helpless. All she could do was keep pressing on the wound and hope and pray the helicopter would arrive soon.

And that another man she loved wouldn’t die protecting her.

After what seemed like hours but was probably less than one, the whump-whump of an approaching helicopter reverberated through the air. The minutes that followed were a kaleidoscope of sounds and images. The chopper set down in a clearing at the far side of the campground. A crew rushed to the scene carrying a basket-like stretcher and tote bags. They swarmed around Linc, and Mikayla was gently but firmly pushed aside.

With speed and efficiency, an EMT applied a pressure bandage and Linc was moved to the stretcher. Mikayla put a hand on the arm of the woman who appeared to be in charge. “I want to go with him.”

The woman regarded her with warm brown eyes. “Sorry, no room for passengers. We’re taking him to Memorial Hospital in Cedar City. They’ve got an excellent team there.” She must have seen something in Mikayla’s face because her expression softened. “We’ll take good care of him.”

Within minutes the chopper was airborne and Mikayla watched it lift into the sky, her heart hollow.

***

Linc felt the familiar tightness as a blood pressure cuff inflated around his arm, then seconds later deflated. He recognized the sounds—the beeps and clicks of monitors, the muffled tread of crepe-soled shoes. He blinked open his eyes. Instead of palm trees swaying in a breeze, the window showed shadowed mountains in the distance. Judging from the light, the sun had set but it wasn’t quite dark.

Damn. Back where he’d started: wounded and in the hospital. He turned his head, gaze searching, then settling on the form curled in the padded chair next to his bed. Mikayla slept with her cheek resting on an open palm, long legs curled under her. Dark smudges under her eyes stood out against her pale skin.

The door swished open and a middle-aged man entered, wearing a white lab coat and a stethoscope around his neck. “Hello, Mr. Jameson. I am Doctor Koroma.” His accent suggested West Africa. “How are you feeling?”

Linc could sense Mikayla stirring beside him. “Been better.”

“Ah, but you are alive and awake, so that means you will survive.”

“Give me the rundown, Doc. Any permanent damage?”

“Nothing permanent. The blade penetrated into the abdominal cavity but missed vital structures. You are lucky.”

Linc grimaced. There was that word again.

The doctor continued. “You received a transfusion to offset the blood loss. We sutured the wound. You have led a violent life, Mr. Jameson, to have a scar from a gunshot as well as a knife.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at Mikayla but she didn’t meet his gaze. “When can I get out of here?”

“We’d like to keep you in our fine hospital at least twelve more hours, maybe a whole day. Make sure there is no infection. You are being treated with antibiotics as a precaution.”

“Thanks.”

The doctor left, and Mikayla sat up, hair tumbling loose from a messy knot. The shadows under her eyes looked more pronounced.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Cedar City, Utah. It’s about a hundred and fifty miles from Concord.”

“You drove here?”

She nodded. “I drove your Jeep because it had more gas than my car.”

“Okay.” Something else was going on. She was looking at him, but not really looking at him. “There a problem, Mikayla?”

She leaned back, eyes drifting shut. “I’m fine, Linc.”

“We’re past that. Tell me what’s really going on.”

Her eyelids lifted. The anguish in her expression shredded his heart. “You almost died.”

He frowned. “Doc didn’t say I almost died. I was stabbed, sure. But they patched me up and I’ll be out of here soon.”

“Hector Lopez stabbed you because you were protecting me. God, Linc. You lost so much blood.”

He softened his tone. “But I didn’t die.”

“You were angry with me.”

“What?”

“After you handcuffed Lopez. If you hadn’t been bleeding to death, I think you would have been yelling at me.”

Flashes of memory returned. Watching Mikayla stalking off, then disappearing around a van. His spike of fear when she hadn’t appeared on the other side of the vehicle: Lopez holding her with his arm around her neck.

“Yeah, I was pissed. You ran off when it wasn’t safe. That fucker Lopez had you again.”

She firmed her chin. “Linc, I—”

The door swung open and Seth and Ellie entered the room, cutting off the discussion. Linc endured their questions and his sister’s chiding. At Ellie’s insistence, he called their mother to reassure her, only a promise to follow doctor’s orders keeping her from jumping on the next plane to Utah.

He frowned when Mikayla quietly slipped out of the room.

“Marshals have Lopez in custody. He’s already flipped.” Seth’s comment distracted him. “He and Donny are spilling their guts.”

“No shit?”

“Nope. This is it, Linc. Lopez is willing to testify against the Zecenas. Even better, his orders to kill Mikayla came straight from Paco. Add that to Donny’s statement that Zecena ordered him to kill Wellington, and the Zecena cartel’s US operations are done. Paco will be in federal prison for the rest of his life.”

Linc’s eyes strayed to the door. He shifted, trying to ease the pain in his side. “That’s good. Really good. And Mikayla won’t have to go into WITSEC.”

“No, your girlfriend will be happy.”

He glanced at his sister, her attention focused on her phone, thumbs flying as she tapped out a message. She slid it in her pocket, her expression serious.

“What?”

“Mikayla texted. She’s getting a ride back to the campground with a ranger named Smallcanyon.”

“What the hell?”

“She said Smallcanyon had been in to see you when you were still out of it and since she’d left her car at the campground, she couldn’t miss the opportunity to get a ride back for it.”

Linc felt like he’d been sucker punched, and it hurt a lot more than being stabbed. “Something’s going on with her. Tell her to come back and talk to me.”

Ellie raised a brow with a look that told him she didn’t like being the go-between.

“I’d do it myself but I’ve been stabbed.”

That got her. “Jesus, Linc.” She tapped out the message, and a moment later her phone vibrated. Ellie scanned the message, expression sober. “She says she left your keys in the drawer of the stand beside your bed.” Ellie walked over and opened the drawer, holding up the keys for Linc to see. “She’s already on the road with Smallcanyon.”

“Fuck.” Linc pushed himself up to a sitting position.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Seth growled.

“To get her.”

“No way in hell.”

“You’re not going to stop me.”

“I will.” Ellie stepped forward. “You promised Mom you’d follow doctor’s orders. You don’t? I’ll call and let her deal with you.”

“Damn it, Ellie.”

“You’re in no condition to go tearing across the state. It may not be what you want to hear, big guy, but if Mikayla wanted to be here, she’d be here.”