The hospital room was noisy. The machines hooked to Nick’s body bleeped and pinged, the nurses outside the ICU talked and hustled back and forth. Darcy thought it would be quiet here, but that wasn’t the case. Every noise sounded painfully loud. The nurses’ footsteps should have been silent but seemed to echo through the room. She wanted to shout at them to shut up when she heard the sound of laughter floating in from the nurses’ station.

She hadn’t taken her eyes off Nick for hours, not since he’d been settled into his hospital bed.

She thought back over the time that had passed before that. Her voice had shaken as she called 911 and tried to explain the situation. She’d finally just begged for help and worked on Nick, trying to staunch the blood. She had to take care of Pasquale, too, securing his unconscious form in case he woke up. He couldn’t be allowed to get away. She tied his hands behind his back and wrapped an extension cord around his ankles and waited for the police and paramedics to arrive.

What she had feared most had happened. Nick had been shot, and she didn’t know if he would live. Not only had he suffered a gunshot wound that had ripped through his abdomen and his liver, his head injury was just as life-threatening. His skull was fractured, his brain swollen. How he had managed to take on Tank still amazed her.

Tank had died at the scene, and Pasquale had been taken away in cuffs to the hospital. Nick had been in ICU almost two days now and had never regained consciousness. He’d had surgery as soon as he came in and again when they discovered they’d missed a bleeder in his abdomen. His face was so pale, so still, except for the occasional twitch of pain. Tubes ran everywhere: oxygen up his nose, IVs in his arms, and she knew a catheter was hidden away beneath the white blanket.

She was alone for the first time since Nick had been brought to the hospital. His brothers, Nate and Noah, had been here since shortly after he came out of his first surgery. Their mother was still recovering from surgery herself, and his father opted to stay with her but had called frequently. The twins had shown up yesterday evening, and they had all huddled together to wait. Now the others had gone to the cafeteria, but Darcy chose to stay here with Nick.

Her eyes felt gritty and burned from lack of sleep. Her back ached from sitting hunched over in the chair or bending over his bed, talking to him, rubbing his hands. She knew she looked worse than a cat that had been out in a thunderstorm. She’d managed to throw on some jeans and a sweatshirt before coming to the hospital, but her hair still tumbled crazily around her shoulders. Circles ringed her eyes, and her skin was pale.

The exhaustion was finally catching up with her, and she found herself nodding off in the chair. She couldn’t help it; she had to take just a little nap.

She awoke when she heard Nick calling her name. At first, she thought she was dreaming but then flashed to reality. She scrambled for the bedside and breathed his name.

“Nick. Aw, Nick, you’re awake.” A single tear tracked down her cheek and fell on his chest. He tried to sit up but winced and immediately fell back, his face contorting with agony.

“No, lay still. You’re hurt.” Darcy gently pressed her hand against his shoulder.

“You’re alive.” He breathed the words with satisfaction.

Darcy caught her breath. The doctors had been worried about his memory, but it looked like it was good.

“Yes, thanks to you, I’m alive.”

A faint smile flickered across his face.

“Love you, Darcy.”

The words were a mere whisper as his eyes fluttered closed again. Had she really heard him say that? Her eyes widened as her hand flew to her abdomen. Her stomach fell, an icy shiver slithering through her. This is exactly what she had feared.

Darcy knew she had to act fast. She hurried to the nurse’s station and reported that Nick had momentarily awakened and seemed to remember what had happened. The nurse quickly called the doctor and went to check on Nick. While she did that Darcy tucked into the bathroom, scribbling out a note on the back of an envelope she found in her purse. She slipped back into the room where the doctor and nurse were hovering over Nick and laid the note on the chair where she had spent much of the last forty or so hours.

She paused at the doorway and looked back at Nick lying so still in the bed. She blinked tears, silently mouthed the words, “I love you, too, Nick,” and slipped from the room. She should be able to get a cab to the bus station and head home from there.

 

Darcy stood by her living room window and stared out, watching the falling snow swirling in the breeze. It was a little after five, but already the sun was disappearing, and shadows crept in around the edges. The world shimmered before her tired eyes, and she watched listlessly as a taxi slushed down the street. True, this was the first real snowfall of the season, normally an event she loved, but it seemed lackluster compared to previous years.

Of course, everything seemed lackluster since she came home. She didn’t find anything exciting or fun anymore. Every day seemed to drag by, each one longer than the last. She tried to keep busy; she didn’t think there was a surface in the house that hadn’t been scrubbed or polished. She’d been applying for jobs, but nothing actually appealed to her.

Restlessness roamed inside of her. Nothing seemed to satisfy her; nothing seemed to soothe the edginess that surrounded her. The holidays were fast approaching. Darcy normally loved this time of year, but now she didn’t feel the same zest for the coming festivities that she usually did.

The weather had matched her mood the past couple weeks. Gray and often overcast, it rained most days, and the wind moaned around the windows. If this was a sign of the winter to come, she wasn’t going to enjoy it, that much she was sure of.

Even Warlock seemed effected by her mood. He prowled restlessly around the room, occasionally emitting a discontented meow.

Darcy took a sip from the cup she held in her hand. She’d made herself hot chocolate, hoping to comfort herself and ease her taut nerves, but it didn’t seem to be working. The cocoa tasted fine but lacked its normal magical relaxation powers.

As she watched the shadows deepen her mind drifted to thoughts of Nick, but she shoved them away. It felt like she spent an awful lot of time trying not to think about him. Sophie had informed her he was recovering nicely and was at home now. Sophie was the only one she talked about it with. She refused to talk to any of the Baker family. If she didn’t talk to them or see them, they didn’t exist, right?

It was hard to see Nick’s name come up on her caller ID and not answer it. She wanted to hear his voice, to be sure he was all right. She yearned to see his silvery eyes and longed to taste his sweet lips.

But she was determined not to give in to her cravings. It was for her own good, she lectured herself. It hurt now but not as much as it could later if he didn’t live through his next encounter with a killer.

She’d sworn she wouldn’t marry a cop over a decade ago. For years she promised herself that she wanted nothing to do with any police officer no matter what. He could be the best-looking man in the world, and she wouldn’t want anything to do with him. She hadn’t figured on being isolated with such a man, left alone with him for days. She hadn’t imagined getting to know him so intimately.

He’d said she was brave, courageous, independent. That she wasn’t like her mother. Her mom had only been eighteen years old when she fell in love with Darcy’s police officer father. She’d just lost her parents in a car accident, and Darcy had arrived by the time her mom was 20 years old. Her mother had never worked outside the home, never taken care of the financial end of things. Darcy had to admit her mother had been rather helpless.

But her pain had been real when Asa Campbell had been killed. Her fear had been palpable…and contagious. Darcy had felt it, lived it. She’d watched her mother disintegrate into a helpless wreck. She watched her descend into a world of drugs and alcohol. Lord, she did not want to live like that. The only way she knew to prevent it was to avoid Detective Nick Baker at all cost.

Thanksgiving was day after tomorrow. She always spent it with Sophie. She wasn’t in the mood, but those pumpkin pies wouldn’t bake themselves. Dispiritedly, she turned towards the kitchen and began to preheat the oven.