Chapter 15

Children’s screams pierced her ears. The noise of the boardwalk became a din in the background. Blood pooled on the concrete beside Rip—a lot of blood.

Lela dropped to the ground beside him, too stunned to yell for help. Rip was crumpled on the walkway, lying on his side. His eyes were closed.

“Oh my God…” Lela stripped the bag off her shoulder and tore off her coat. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she wadded it up and pressed it against the spurting blood.

Vaguely aware that the crowd had moved back, Lela focused only on her task, the only thing she knew to do. She pressed harder on the jacket, but blood oozed through it. Rip’s life was draining away, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it.

Lela wanted to check Rip’s pulse, but clung to the jacket, pressing harder, willing the bleeding to stop—or at least slow. His chest moved, evidence that he was breathing—but for how much longer?

Without taking her eyes off Rip, she yelled, as loud as she could, “Call an ambulance!” She couldn’t leave him, couldn’t release the jacket long enough to make a call. She prayed someone would help.

A man handed Lela another jacket, so she tossed her soaked one aside and pressed the new one over the wound. It was a man’s coat, so it was larger and absorbed more of the blood. Seconds ticked by, long and interminable. Each moment was an hour.

Please, please get here fast. Lela didn’t know whether anyone had called the paramedics. Then two guys in uniforms kneeled beside Rip. “An emergency crew is on the way. I called it in, honey. We’ll do our best to get him to the hospital in time.”

Lela glanced up, noting that the men were boardwalk security. Someone said, “What happened? Did anyone see it?”

The talking was a blur, senseless words that didn’t do a damn thing to save Rip.

Then there were other hands, men assisting her. Towels and gauze appeared as if by magic. A stretcher rolled up, and a paramedic put an oxygen mask over Rip’s face. His eyelids fluttered but didn’t open.

Lela sobbed and grabbed one of the towels, wiping the blood off her hands. She stared at Rip as if he might open his eyes and talk to her, tell her what to do. But he was unconscious.

“We are going to life-flight him out of here,” a paramedic said. “It’s pretty bad. That’s his best chance.”

Instinct took over, and Lela grabbed her bag then backed into the crowd that had gathered to see what was going on. The attention on Rip would wane and security would want to talk to her, maybe console her. That would be dangerous.

Lela’s mind worked quickly. She spotted police striding toward the scene, taking care of crowd control. If she was recognized, it would all be over. Rip’s sacrifice wouldn’t mean a damn thing. All she’d strived for, and what Rip had been through with her, would be useless.

She couldn’t get caught.

More voices. More questions. “There was a woman. Where is she?”

Lela burrowed into the crowded boardwalk and latched on to the first idea that came to her. She kept out of sight and made her way back to the boat. It was vacant. She could pilot and navigate. She’d watched Rip do it.

As fast as she could, Lela cast off and headed out into the bay. When she was a safe distance out, only then did she dare to look back. She fully expected the authorities to be standing on the dock, waiting for her, but they weren’t.

A roar from the sky caused her to look up. A helicopter with Life Flight painted on the side lifted off. Lela watched it soar higher then turn toward the city. Her love was in that helicopter, and he damn well better not die.

Lela had to get to Rip. She went into action. The stabbing incident had drawn the attention of law enforcement. The coast guard would be called in, and the area would be searched—for the woman who had been with the victim, as well as the perpetrator.

The perp was long gone, and the cops probably knew that already. Lela couldn’t afford to be taken into custody, which was what would happen if the boat was stopped. She had only one choice. After shutting off the engine, she lowered the anchor to secure the craft.

Lela removed a couple of things from her bag, before leaving it behind. Then she took off her shoes and went over the side into the water, holding tight to the items she carried with her. She had to get back to shore without being seen, so she swam underwater as much as she could. Fortunately, she hadn’t taken the boat too far out.

It would look odd for her to walk around in soaking-wet clothes, but she’d worry about that when she got to dry land. Since Lela was a strong swimmer, she was able to go the distance. She emerged at a dock down from where the boat had been tied up.

Lela didn’t see anyone scouring the marina, but it wouldn’t be long. There was a woman in a fishing boat about to push off. She spotted Lela dragging herself out of the bay.

“What happened to you, dear?”

The woman was too far down the marina to have seen the incident. Lela needed to make this work. “I had a fight with my boyfriend. He threw me overboard, clothes and all.” She shivered.

“That won’t do.” The woman shook her head. “Here, put this on. It’s all I’ve got handy.” She tossed Lela a long raincoat.

Lela put on the coat, and slipped her hands in the pockets. “I don’t have a way back to the city. He has my purse.”

The woman dug into a satchel. “Here’s a bit of cash, enough for the bus. I hope you make it, and don’t let him get away with this.”

Lela gave the woman her best attempt at a smile, even though her lips were stiff from the cold. “Thank you so much.” She stuffed the cash in a pocket and wrapped the coat tighter. “I’ll try to get this back to you.”

“You keep it.” The woman had kind eyes. “I was in a tight spot once, and someone gave me a hand. Glad to pass it on.” She reached into the boat. “And put these on. You can’t walk around in bare feet.”

Lela gratefully accepted the rubber boots. She thanked the woman, then hustled away.

*****

Lela made it to the hospital in record time, but she couldn’t go inside the way she looked. So she took precious minutes and went to the bank for cash. Rip had given her the bank card she had in her pocket. And he’d shared his PIN, so she was able to withdraw cash from the machine outside.

She marveled at how he was taking care of her, even while incapacitated. He’d told her the ready cash might come in handy, in the event that he wasn’t around.

Lela wasn’t choosy about clothes. Anything presentable would do. She made a few purchases, then went to the restroom to change. Her hair had dried on the way to the city. But it didn’t matter anyway, since her disguise included a scarf to hide her hair.

She dressed, then tied the scarf under her chin and put on the dark glasses. A glance in the mirror revealed that she’d done well. She’d gone with the Jackie Onassis look, certain to throw off any casual observer.

With the rest of the cash in her newly acquired purse, Lela walked the last couple of blocks to the hospital. It took conscious effort not to rush. She was here to see a relative, and didn’t dare reveal otherwise.

At the administration window, Lela inquired about Ripley McConnell. “I understand that he was flown in not long ago.”

The nurse said, “And you are?”

Lela hoped her brain hadn’t frozen up from the cold dip in the bay. She paused, then it came to her. “I’m his sister Estela.” She was sure that was what Rip had said her name was.

The nurse didn’t hesitate. “He’s in surgery. It will be a while. You can take a seat in the ICU waiting area.” She pointed toward the hall and gave Lela directions.

She found the lounge and a cup of hot coffee from a machine. She looked down as an extra precaution. Then she found a seat in a corner, and sipped her drink with a magazine in front of her face.

Guilt replaced fear. This was all because of her. If Lela hadn’t dragged Rip into danger, he wouldn’t be clinging to life by a thread.

She was grateful that Rip was in surgery. The only reason he was in a hospital was because he’d been unconscious. Otherwise, she was sure that he wouldn’t have agreed to be admitted, injury or not.

There weren’t any cops hovering around intensive care. But Lela had no doubt that once Rip was out of surgery and awake, an officer would show up to interview him about the attack. He wasn’t higher priority, because his connection to Lela was unknown.

And it had to stay that way.

To avoid being caught off guard, Lela moved around. She walked the hallways, then rested in the women’s lounge. For breaks, she drank slightly better coffee in the cafeteria. But she wasn’t far from ICU at any time.

It was late when the doctor came out to talk with her. With a somber look, he led her to a private alcove. Lela’s heart pounded. She hoped it was the doctor’s bedside manner and not bad news that accounted for his concerned expression.

“Please sit down,” the doctor said.

Lela sat on the edge of the seat and clasped her hands together. “Is he okay?”

“Your brother has a strong constitution, and that’s in his favor.” The doctor spoke in an even voice, exuding calm.

Lela held her breath.

“We nearly lost him. It appeared that a long, thin blade was used,” the doctor said. “As a rule, such an implement is wielded to create the most internal damage.”

Lela was dizzy, so clasped her hands tighter. She didn’t want to miss what the doctor said.

“A fraction of a millimeter over, and the blade would have pierced his heart.” The doctor gave her a moment to process what he’d said. “He would have died.” He mentioned a couple of other injuries that might have resulted, impressing upon her the seriousness of the matter. “Your brother had a very close call.”

“Is he…going to recover?” Lela let out the breath she’d been holding.

“He has a good chance for full recovery, if he takes care of the wound and follows doctor’s orders.” The doctor stood up.

“I’ll make sure he does,” Lela said. “He’s stubborn, but I’ll take care of him.”

The doctor nodded. “That’s good to hear. You can see your brother when he’s brought back to his room, but only for a few minutes. And I don’t expect that he will be conscious until the morning. We’ve given him medication for pain, and to sleep.”

Lela choked back tears. “Thank you, doctor.”

After another long wait, the nurse informed Lela that she could see her “brother.” So she went into the private room, which was quiet except for machines beeping.

The sight of Rip tore at her heart. He looked vulnerable in the hospital bed, with wires hooked up to him. There was an IV bag, and a screen monitoring his bodily functions.

Lela stood beside him. A wide white bandage was wrapped around his chest, but his body was unmoving. She touched his hand and spoke softly. “You scared me…so much.” Emotion seized her. “I thought I’d lost you.”

A tear rolled down Lela’s cheek, and she leaned over to kiss Rip’s cheek. His skin was cold and lacked color. She longed to see him up and about, bossing her around and telling her how she needed protection.

Lela needed something more than that. She needed him.

“Rest and get better. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Lela squeezed his hand. “And please don’t worry. I’ll take care of things.”

She left the room but didn’t go far. It was better to be close to Rip, even if he was knocked out. The sleep would be good for him.

There was a room provided for relatives who stayed overnight, so Lela catnapped there. She wanted to be the first person Rip saw when he opened his eyes.

After a restless night, Lela went to the ICU desk. “You’ll be able to visit in a little while,” the nurse said. “I’m not sure Ripley’s awake yet.”

The gift shop opened early. Lela had it all planned out. She could imagine the look on Rip’s face when she entered the room. And whatever he said would be perfect. It would be enough just to see him with his eyes open, and to hear his voice.

She purchased flowers to take up to him. The dozen yellow roses were beautiful in the crystal vase. It would cheer him up and brighten the room. She wondered how long he’d be in ICU before being moved to another room.

*****

Rip was in an unfamiliar bed. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids didn’t budge. Someone had drugged him. The beeping sounds from a machine annoyed him, and a needle poked into his arm.

Then memories of what had happened flooded back.

He managed to peel his eyelids back, but his head pounded like some idiot had hit him with a two-by-four. And he couldn’t seem to move.

A thick bandage was wrapped around his middle. That would be from the stab wound. He must have had surgery. The pain meds had worn off, because he hurt like hell.

A nurse entered with a warm smile. “Good morning, Mr. McConnell. How are you feeling?”

“Like hell.” Rip was surprised that his voice worked.

“That sounds about right.” The nurse smiled. “But you’re recovering just fine. I’m here to take your vitals and see if you need anything.”

Rip had to behave for the moment. But his mind raced. He was in a hospital. That was the bad news. It was a public place. In larger hospitals, the overworked staff could sometimes be too busy to notice a person who didn’t belong there.

Anyone could walk right in, and Rip would be toast. The assassin hadn’t finished the job, so he’d be back. And there wasn’t a damn thing to stop him from strolling right into the hospital room.

“Everything looks good,” the nurse said, and held out a plastic cup. “Here are some pain meds for you.”

“No.” Rip noted the look on her face. “I mean…I’m not in pain.” He was going to adamantly refuse medication. Knocked out, he’d be easy prey.

“Well, I’ll keep the pills here in this cup, in case you change your mind.” The nurse walked toward the door. “And if the pain gets too bad, we can give you a shot, something more potent than the pills. Just press that red button if you need me, okay?”

Rip waited until the nurse was gone and the door closed behind her. Then he willed his body to move. He had to get out of here. And he had to find Lela.

After he managed to turn on his side, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. A wave of dizziness hit, but he brushed it off. Blinking, he focused on his situation. A lot of wires were attached to him, and the IV had to go too.

Rip stood up, a bit unsteady at first. He took two shaky steps to the cabinet, relieved to find his duffel bag with his clean clothes and wallet. His phone was missing, but he couldn’t worry about that now. And his gun was gone too. No surprise that the cops had confiscated it.

Reaching deep for fortitude, Rip pulled on his leather pants, then sat in the chair by the bed and put on his boots. The shirt would be trickier. Once he unhooked his arms from the machines, the nurses would be alerted. He hoped they would be too busy to notice right away.

Rip’s thoughts were of Lela. He didn’t know what had happened to her. He had to get to her. The worst thing would be to lie in a hospital bed until the cartel came for him. And that wouldn’t be long. He figured he would be dead already, except the report that he’d survived the stabbing hadn’t reached the assassin’s ears yet.

Swiftly, Rip tore off the patches attached to his arms and threw off the wires. Then he yanked the IV needles out. The rough motion made the puncture sites bleed. He hobbled toward the door, with blood dripping on the floor as he went.

*****

When the elevator opened, Lela stepped out, carrying the vase of flowers. The scent of roses was lovely. She couldn’t wait to see Rip.

The nurses were busy, so no one looked up when Lela walked past. She had some bounce in her step, despite her lack of sleep.

At the door to Rip’s room, she took a breath. Excitement over seeing him overrode her trepidation at how he might look. But soon enough he’d be back to health.

Lela leaned against the door with her elbow, holding the vase in both hands. But she was greeted with an empty room. Had they moved Rip already?

That didn’t make sense.

Then something on the floor caught her eye. A trail of blood went from Rip’s bed, out the door, and down the hall.

The vase slipped from her hands and crashed to the floor, shattering. Lela glanced down. Shards of glass were everywhere, and the yellow roses were piled together in a puddle of water mixed with blood.

Lela’s pulse raced. Rip was in trouble. The bed was a mess, with wires strewn around, like he’d been torn from the machines. She had to find him.

A nurse came up behind her and looked at the mess on the floor. “Are you okay? I’ll get someone to clean this up.” The nurse touched her arm. “I need to check on Rip. Something must be unplugged. The machine isn’t functioning.”

When the nurse went into the room, Lela vanished. The discovery of Rip’s disappearance would only mean trouble.

At the lobby, Lela stepped out of the elevator and plowed into Axel. “I left the moment you called,” he said. “Where is he?”

Lela grabbed his arm and pulled him around the corner. “I don’t know. He’s gone.”

“How can he be gone?”

“I don’t know,” Lela said. “I went to his room and…there was a trail of blood.”

“Oh, Christ.” Axel raked a hand through his hair. He wasn’t in uniform, and Lela assumed he’d worn street clothes so he wouldn’t be recognized. “We have to find him,” Axel said. “He can’t roam around on his own. I don’t know how he got out of the damn bed.”

Lela had followed the trail of blood but it had disappeared, so maybe someone had abducted Rip. “Do you think the cartel has him?”

“I hope to hell not,” Axel said. “And if they found him, they’d just bump him off in the hospital bed. They don’t give a shit about appearances.”

Then, behind Axel, a door opened. It was the stairwell. And Rip emerged. “What are you doing here?”

“Good to see you too,” Axel said, racing over to assist his brother.

“I don’t want you involved in this.” Rip’s voice was weak but his message was clear.

“I am involved.” Axel draped Rip’s arm around his neck and supported him. “I’m your brother. So get over it.”

“You shouldn’t be up,” Lela said, as lame as it sounded.

“We have to get out of here,” Rip said.

“I have a place you can go.” Axel shifted his brother’s weight to help him walk. “And I don’t think you have a lot of options right now.”

Rip frowned, then grimaced in pain and gripped his side. “How did you even know I was here?”

Lela held up Rip’s phone.

“You called him?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Lela said. “I needed help.”

It wouldn’t do to limp out the emergency exit. So Axel moved down the hall with Rip and located a wheelchair. He lowered his brother into it and rolled it along the polished floor. “I know my way around,” Axel said. “I’ve been here plenty of times to interview victims.”

Axel guided them through the walkway to the medical offices, then out the nearest door. His SUV was in the lot. He wheeled Rip out to the parking spot and loaded him in. Then Lela hopped into the back seat and they were off.

*****

Axel owned a cabin at Lake Livingston, an hour north of Houston. “I come up here to fish,” he said to Lela. “Usually, it’s pretty quiet.”

“I appreciate your help,” Lela said. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She smiled. “When this is over, we need to be properly introduced.”

“It’s a deal,” Axel said with a chuckle. “I keep this place stocked with canned goods and dehydrated food. It’s not the most delicious, but it will keep you alive.”

“It will be fine.”

“I won’t be back to check on you.” Axel headed toward the door. “It’s better if I stay away—less chance of anyone following me up here.”

“I’ll take care of him.” Lela walked Axel to the door and kissed him on the cheek.

“My brother is tough. Trust me, he’ll survive.” Axel gave her a hug, then jogged out to his vehicle.

Rip was already asleep in the bed. He really needed a nurse, but he refused to seek medical care. And walking around the hospital had worn him out, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Lela sat in an armchair at the foot of the bed and watched him sleep. She was relieved that Rip was alive. For the rest of the day, he was in and out of consciousness. Each time he woke up, she urged him to drink water and gave him some drugstore pain relievers.

When nighttime came, Lela didn’t want to leave, so she slid under the covers next to Rip. She was gentle, being careful not to jar him.

She shuddered to think what might have happened. The doctor had said if the knife had hit his spinal cord, he could have been a paraplegic. And it had just missed his heart. She touched his arm, feeling his warmth, calmed by the sound of his steady breathing.

As the days went by, Rip grew stronger, and the food supply grew shorter. Lela discovered a cupboard filled with cans of chili, and he seemed to tolerate it well. But he’d need a more substantial meal soon.

In the evenings, Lela sat by the fireplace next to Rip and talked about lots of things. She learned more about him and his family. He told her what he could about his career in the Navy. And Lela shared in kind, telling him about things that really mattered to her.

Each night, Lela slept next to him, holding his hand. Sometimes he pulled her close and kissed her, sending ripples of desire through her body. When his pain abated, he wanted more, and guided her to make love in a way that wouldn’t overexert him. Touching and caressing under the covers was sweet and tender.

In less than a week, Rip was able to walk around. He looked healthier, and it was good to see his spirits lift. When he was able to get out of bed, she didn’t pamper him. He was motivated for a fast recovery.

Lela wasn’t sure when the stitches should come out, or how she would get him to a nurse. But she’d worry about that later. Rip was up, moving around, and doing all he could to regain his strength.

The cabin was rustic, and under the circumstances could hardly be viewed as romantic. Yet Lela fell more in love with Rip by the hour.

He was in stable condition now, so she chewed him out for ripping the IV out of his arm and nearly killing himself searching the hospital hallways for her. “You have to take better care of yourself.”

Rip sat in a wooden rocking chair, drinking a can of orange juice. “I do well enough. I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“That’s not the point.” Lela got on her knees in front of him and put her hands on his thighs. It probably wasn’t the best decision, but she couldn’t hold back. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” She sighed and looked into his eyes.

“I love you,” Lela said, and was met with silence. That was great. She’d opened her heart, only to have it tromped on. She should have known. He wasn’t truly over his first love. Maybe she was wrong to hope for that.

Rip looked at her, but reading his expression was impossible.

“Are you afraid of love?” Lela said. “Because it’s not easy for me either.”

“That’s not it.”

“What then?” Lela stood up. “You’re still hung up on Isabel, aren’t you?” She paused. “It’s been more than thirteen years. You can’t live in the past forever.” Lela touched his cheek. “You deserve happiness.”

Rip expelled a breath. “You don’t understand.”

“Explain it to me, then.”

Rip’s frustration was evident, but he didn’t reply.

There was no way to get through to him. Lela walked toward the bedroom door. She needed to be alone before she said something she’d regret.

“I guess I’d hoped your heart was big enough for both of us.” Had she really thought Rip would love again? What could she have been thinking? His first love had won his heart…forever. She’d have to deal with that.