8
Valerie Price dropped the single backpack stuffed with everything she owned next to the door before pacing the large private hospital room. Machines surrounding the bed were finally silent after weeks of mindless beeping in a disjointed, chaotic symphony. Once ceaseless, the sounds had eventually faded, becoming as present as her ever-beating heart. Now, the quiet made her uneasy, the absence of constant sound as irritating as the noise had been.
In the last two years, she’d been kidnapped and held in a crazy man’s basement, dressed up like a Barbie to fulfill some sick fantasy. After surviving that, she discovered that her fiancé had been murdered and then had been hunted like a sitting duck by his killer.
If it hadn’t been for Detective Ellie Kline coming for her that night, when everyone else had given up, she wouldn’t have survived Tucker Penland, much less the perforated ulcer that tore as the maniac chased her through the woods with a gun. It was only her pure bad luck that had thrown in a perforated bowel caused by the laparoscopy, which had led to sepsis that had left her hovering on the brink of death for weeks.
Filled with nervous energy after having been confined to a bed for nearly a month, Valerie walked the room once again, opening and closing every drawer, flinging the closet doors wide. Empty hangers swung on the metal rod, the closed loop preventing patients from removing them when they checked out.
She inhaled a deep breath. Even though she’d been through daily physical therapy to get her strength back after her long illness, she was still out of shape, and just walking around her room caused sweat to break out on her brow.
She would fix that. When she was free, she would exercise and run, lift weights to make her strong. She would never be so weak again, she promised herself.
The cute guard who’d become her daily companion watched her with cool indifference, unbothered by her nervousness. Only when she walked too close to the windows did his body language change. A flicker of tension flashed across his face. “Please step away from the window, Miss Price.”
Her fingers brushed the stark white blinds, too slow to move the slats to look out before the guard stopped her. She sighed, rubbing her hands together to chase away the cold. “It’s freezing in here. I just wanted to let the sun in.”
“The time for that will come. Safety first, sunshine later.”
When?
She seethed inwardly, irritated with every excuse she’d been given since she’d emerged from captivity, only to be handed off to another monster, one who hunted her before Ellie finally saved her from certain death. That day, by the time the sun brushed the morning sky with orange and pink rays Arthur Fink could never have replicated in her underground prison, she was already being loaded onto a stretcher. She’d yet to feel the sun on her skin, and after two years locked away, asking her to wait another moment was torture.
Turning away from the window that beckoned, she crossed her arms and blew her bangs out of her face. They were getting longer, the straight dark brown strands touching her lashes when she blinked. She planned on growing them out now that no one was cutting them back while she slept.
A sudden chill raced up her spine. She shuddered, rubbing her bare arms. “When did she say she was going to be here, Flynn?”
Straight-lined lips that made up his default serious expression turned up slightly in the corners, the closest the handsome, brooding man ever came to a genuine smile. But the light in his deep brown eyes revealed his amusement. “I assure you, she is on her way.”
“You’ve said that.”
“And you’ve ignored me.”
Valerie glared at him, rocking forward on the balls of her feet to give her petite frame another inch. “I want a specific time so I know how long I have before I have to be ready.”
“There is no reason to know. You’ve packed everything and checked the room dozens of times. You are prepared, and she will be here when she’s here.” This time, his lips tilted into what passed as an actual smile, but when a light knock sounded at the door, the smile disappeared as Flynn’s hand went to his holster.
Valerie’s heart jumped into her throat. She took a step back, ready to hide if he issued the command.
There was a second knock, slightly louder than the first.
This time, Flynn responded. “Who is it?”
“Ellie.”
Some of the tension melted from Valerie’s body, replaced by glee. Ellie was finally here, just outside the door. They were leaving the hospital, at long last.
Careful not to open the door too wide, Flynn kept his foot wedged against the heavy metal kickplate. “ID.”
A badge slipped through the crack, and Flynn examined it carefully. He peeked through the crack, stepped back, and welcomed Ellie into the room. Ellie tucked her badge into her pocket, giving Valerie a warm smile.
Valerie’s feet seemed rooted to the tile floor. Excitement and fear of what lay beyond the safety of the room battled inside her, but she hid the turmoil with a smile.
Ellie tipped her head toward the bag by the door, a pleased smile lighting her face. “I see you’re eager to leave.”
“You have no idea.” Valerie laughed. “Not that Flynn isn’t a fascinating conversationalist, but I need to breathe air that doesn’t smell like antiseptic.”
Ellie wrinkled her nose and simultaneously took a breath, grimacing. “I don’t blame you.” She grabbed Valerie’s bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here before the hospital invents a reason to keep you another night.”
Valerie followed Ellie out the door without a backward glance at the bleak, sterile room that had been her home for the weeks since she’d escaped from Tucker Penland in Bartlett Woods. With eyes on her twenty-four-seven and cameras everywhere, the hospital hadn’t felt much different than the tiny
