Burn Every Bridge, page 21
It was another twenty minutes before the traffic thickened, and she felt calmer. Max hadn't said anything in a while, and his breathing was still labored. But as she glanced at him, his eyes flickered open.
"Is he gone?"
"I think so. I need to get you to a doctor."
"No. We can't risk it. He knows I'm hurt. He'll be looking…"
He wasn't wrong, but she couldn't just keep driving. It would take an hour to get back to Manhattan. As the miles passed by, she went through what she needed to do, which included getting a first aid kit and finding a place to stay that wasn't in the city.
Mason might know of a safe house nearby, but could she trust the FBI after what had happened to Whitney while in protective custody? Could she trust anyone but the man beside her?
This attack had been directly on them. They had been the target. Someone knew who they were, where they had been, who they were talking to, and probably where they lived.
For a split second, she felt overwhelmed, but she refused to give in to that feeling. She just needed to think. Finally, it came to her. She grabbed her phone out of her pocket and punched in Jess's number. "Please pick up," she muttered.
"Kara?" Jess said. "Hey, how are you?"
"Are you still handling properties in Westchester?" she asked abruptly.
"What? Well, my mom does. Why?"
"I need a house, Jess, an empty house where I can stay for a few hours with no one knowing. Some place where no one would question the lights being on."
"This sounds bad. Okay," Jess said immediately. "I'm checking our listings." A moment later, she added, "We have a listing in Pound Ridge. The owners are in Europe for six months. Big house, end of a private road, fully furnished. Showings are by appointment only."
"That's perfect."
"I'll text you the address and the code to get in. What else can I do?"
"Call my brother," she said. "Tell Hayden it's not for me, but I need a doctor at this address, and he can't ask questions, and he can't tell anybody. I'm going to turn my phone off, so he won't be able to reach me. Tell him I'll owe him big time, but I really need his help."
"God, Kara," Jess said worriedly. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I am, but I'm with someone who's not. Tell Hayden to bring his medical bag."
"Okay. I'm not sure what he'll say."
"He'll ask you a million questions, and he'll complain, but he'll come. Thank you, Jess. I'll explain later."
"You better. Take care of yourself."
A text came through a second later, and she changed her GPS to that address. "Hang in there," she told Max, who gave her a weak smile.
"Told you I'm fine," he said. "I've been worse."
She hoped that was true, but she wasn't convinced.
Fifteen minutes later, she parked in front of a drugstore. She hated to leave Max for a second, but she needed supplies. She ran into the store, grabbed a first-aid kit and bandages, then threw some random food items and drinks into the cart before racing to the self-checkout. She didn't want to talk to anyone if she didn't have to.
When she got back in the car, Max's eyes were closed, but he was still breathing. And she was more than grateful for that. She pulled out of the lot and drove to the house, which was exactly as Jess had described. It was set away from the road, and the nearest neighbor was on the other side of a patch of trees. She pulled into the drive, opened the garage door with the code, then got back into the Jeep and drove inside. As the door closed behind them, she took her first full breath.
"We're safe," she told Max. She just didn't know for how long.
Chapter Eighteen
An hour and a half later, she'd thrown a blanket over the top of the king-size bed in the primary bedroom and helped Max off with his jacket. The bleeding had slowed down thankfully, but both her shirt and his shirt were soaked in blood.
She removed her shirt and tossed it onto the blanket, then took some scissors out of the first aid kit and cut off his shirt. She cleaned his wound as best she could. It was still seeping, but the heavy bleeding had eased. She applied more pressure and a bandage, which caused Max to groan in pain. She felt terrible about hurting him, but she felt better that she'd cleaned him up a bit.
"Cold," Max mumbled.
She found another blanket and covered him, then went to the kitchen for ice and more towels. The house was beautifully appointed—granite counters, stainless steel appliances, a fully stocked wine fridge. The owners clearly had money. She unpacked the few groceries she'd purchased, grabbed a soft towel, which she ran cold water over, then went back to Max.
Putting her hand on his forehead, she realized he was blazing hot. Damn! He had a fever now. That wasn't a good sign. She pressed the cool, wet towel against his forehead, praying that her brother would show up, that Jess had reached him, that he was on his way. She'd turned off their phones long before they'd gotten to the house so that no one could track them. But now she felt lost without a way to contact her brother, and the more minutes that passed, the more worried she became. Maybe she needed to take Max to the hospital because he was getting worse instead of better.
Finally, she heard a knock at the door. Three quick knocks, silence, then a fourth. She checked the window and saw Hayden on the porch. She quickly went to let him in.
"Thank God," she said, looking past him to the quiet street. "Where's your car?"
"Two blocks away, by a park."
"Good job." She closed the door, looking at her younger brother with immense gratitude.
"I learned from the best. What's going on? You don't look hurt."
"I told Jess to tell you I wasn't."
"She did. I didn't quite believe her."
"It's my…partner," she said, stumbling a little over the word. "He was shot. And it looks like the bullet went clean through, but he's lost a lot of blood, and now I think he has a fever." She led him into the bedroom and waved her hand toward Max.
Hayden moved to the bed and sat down on the mattress next to Max. "What's his name?"
Max's eyes opened at the question. "Who are you?" he grumbled.
"I'm a doctor."
"I said no doctors," Max said, his gaze moving to hers.
"He's my brother," she said quickly. "This is Max."
"Hayden Reid," her brother added. "Let's see what you've got here, Max." He removed the temporary bandage she'd applied and checked both the front and back of his shoulder.
Max winced with every slight movement and began to shiver.
"Sorry," Hayden said as he finished his exam. "You need some stitches, Max. I can do that. And I can give you something for the pain and for the infection. But you'd be better off in a hospital."
"Can't go," Max mumbled. "Do what you gotta do."
Hayden looked at her as Max's eyes closed. His expression was serious. "You sure you want me to take care of this here?"
"If you can."
He nodded, then opened his medical bag. "It looks like the bullet missed the major arteries, but there's muscle damage, and he's lost a fair amount of blood. But right now, the biggest concern is the fever."
Hayden worked efficiently, numbing the area around both wounds before cleaning and stitching them. Max gritted his teeth but didn't complain, even when Hayden had to probe for fabric fragments that had been driven into the muscle.
"There," Hayden said finally. "Now for the antibiotic."
He prepared a syringe and injected it into Max's good arm, then handed Kara a bottle of pills.
"He should take two every eight hours." He glanced at his watch. "It's almost six. He can take the next dose at midnight. And then again in the morning. The fever should break in the next few hours. If it doesn't, go to the nearest hospital." He pulled out a sample packet of pain pills. "This will get you through today and tomorrow. After that, see another doctor, get a prescription."
"Thank you so much, Hayden. I know you're supposed to report gunshot wounds..."
"You're FBI, and you're my sister. I trust you know what you're doing." He packed up his medical supplies, then added, "Were you close to him when he got shot?"
"He pushed me out of the way," she said.
Hayden stared at her. "Is he the guy you took to Uncle Danny's birthday?"
"Mom told you?"
"Yeah. Said you have a good-looking boyfriend who seems to care about you. Was that real?"
She shrugged. "I don't know what we are. It's complicated."
"It always is with you," he said with a small smile. "But I have to say, you looked scared when I got here. Freaked me out a little. You're always so tough."
"I was feeling out of my depth."
"You did a good job cleaning his wound." He paused. "Do you want me to stay?"
"I don't," she said. "I don't think we're in danger here, but if we are, I don't want you in the middle of it. I know it was a risk to contact you."
"Which is why you had Jess do it."
She nodded. "I knew you'd come if you could."
"I will always come if I can, even if I shouldn't. You're my sister. You need me; I'm there."
"The same goes for you, Hayden. You need me; I'm there." She gave him a hug. "Be careful leaving here. If you see anything out of the ordinary, if anyone is following you…"
"I'll call the police because you don't have your phone on. But you don't have to worry. I may not be law enforcement, but I can take care of myself." He walked to the door, then paused. "I know it's not my business, but—"
"You're going to say something anyway."
"Mom said you looked happier than she'd seen you in a while. If that guy in there makes you feel that way, then don't second-guess it the way you always do. Get out of your own way and just be happy."
"I can't believe you're giving me relationship advice," she said. "You're single, too."
"Yeah, but I'm younger, and I'm a man. I've got more time."
She laughed. "Get out of here, Hayden."
"I'm going," he said. "On a more serious note, be careful."
"I will be."
After he left, she went back into the bedroom. Max was asleep and no longer shivering. It was only seven, but she was suddenly exhausted, so she stretched out next to him in the bed, staying on the side of his good shoulder so she wouldn't accidentally fall asleep and bump into him.
At some point, she dozed off, but Max woke her up around ten, talking wildly in his sleep as he thrashed on the bed.
"Have to get him," he muttered, his head tossing restlessly. "Have to kill him. Should have done it years ago."
"Max?" She touched his forehead. He was still warm but no longer burning up.
"Qadir," he said clearly. "Have to find him. Have to make him pay for what he did to Nicole."
Nicole. Kara's chest tightened. Who was Nicole? And what had Qadir done to her?
"It should have been me," he muttered. "Not you, Nicole. My fault. Should have seen it coming."
His ramblings continued for the next several hours. By dawn, she had a lot of questions and a growing certainty that there were parts of Max's past he hadn't shared with her.
She'd always known he had secrets, but in the last several days, she'd felt like those secrets didn't matter. But they did. And she needed to stop burying her head in the sand and figure out what was really going on. Max had wanted to tell her something at the lake, just before he got shot, but he hadn't had the chance. As soon as he woke up for real, she was going to find out what he hadn't wanted to tell her. Because she had a feeling it was something she really needed to know.
Max woke up, feeling a stabbing pain in his shoulder, but the pounding in his head had stopped, and so had the endless shivers. He blinked his eyes open, seeing the sun coming through a crack in the blinds. He didn't recognize this room. But he did recognize the woman sleeping next to him on the bed, her cheeks rosy from sleep, her brown hair falling around her pretty face. Seeing Kara safe and right next to him drove the cloudy fear out of his head as his brain cleared and his memories sharpened.
He rolled over onto his good side, aware of the bandage on his shoulder and the throbbing pain in that part of his body. As his weight shifted, Kara woke up. She opened her eyes much faster than he had, alarm followed by relief as she met his gaze.
"You're awake," she murmured, putting her hand on his side. "How are you feeling?"
"Great," he murmured.
"Liar."
"Where are we?"
"At a house in Pound Ridge. I needed to get us somewhere safe, and my friend is a realtor. She has the listing on this house."
"Was your friend here?" He tried to remember what he'd seen and heard. "My memory is fuzzy."
"You had a fever, and you were in a lot of pain. My brother was here."
"Your brother?" he echoed in surprise. "Why?"
"You needed a doctor. He stitched you up, gave you antibiotics, and also left you a couple of pain pills. Do you need one?"
"Not right this second. Was it safe to bring him here?"
"My friend Jess called him. I turned off our phones miles before we got here. He took precautions. It was a risk, but I had to take it. You were burning up, Max. It was my brother or the ER."
"This was the better choice," he said. "Thanks for taking care of me."
"Well, you took a bullet for me, so I owed you."
"I think you more than paid me back by saving my life."
He let out a breath. "I remember being by the lake, and then I saw something."
"A gun," she reminded him. "You pushed me out of the way. We ran to your Jeep. A guy followed us for a while, but I lost him. Eventually, we came here. I have some snacks in the kitchen if you're hungry."
"Maybe in a minute. Do you know who shot at us?"
"No. But I know they weren't shooting at anyone else. We were the target. Someone wanted to kill us, and I can only think of a couple of people who knew where we were."
He met her gaze, following her thought. "Dominic. But he wouldn't have me killed."
"Maybe it was Caroline Rowe or one of Dominic's mysterious visitors. Maybe it was someone on his security team."
"Or someone on your team. You texted them. You said we were going to meet Dominic near his executive retreat."
She frowned at the reminder. "I didn't give the details, but you're right, I said something." She paused. "But that's not what I want to talk about now."
There was something about her tone that made him nervous. "What do you want to talk about?"
"Who's Nicole?"
Her question stole his breath away. "What?" he asked, stalling for time.
"Nicole. You talked about her. You apologized to her. You said it should have been you. And you said her name with Qadir's name about a hundred times. So, who was she?"
"She was another agent, and she was also my friend."
"She sounded like more than a friend. Like someone you were in love with."
He shook his head. "No, it wasn't like that. We had something a long time ago, right after we both joined the agency. But it didn't last. And then she got together with another agent a couple of years later. The three of us were close, and I cared a great deal about both of them. But Nicole and Brian were in love with each other, and they would have been together forever if I hadn't made mistakes."
She licked her lips. "Did Qadir kill Nicole?"
He slowly nodded, that truth always bringing him a great deal of pain. "He killed both of them. First, Brian, then Nicole. She had to watch her love die right in front of her. And I had to watch…" His voice trailed away. "Qadir is evil, twisted. He has no conscience. He can't be turned. He can't be changed. He's a monster. And the CIA never should have put him back out in the world."
"How could they do that if he killed two of their agents?"
"Because they didn't believe he'd done it. But I knew he had."
"Why didn't they believe it? Why didn't they trust your judgement?"
He really didn't want to talk about it all, but what choice did he have? Kara had saved his life, and she wanted answers. He owed her that much. "Qadir drugged me for days. I was hallucinating for much of the time. But before I was really out of my mind, I was able to send our location out to the team. Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, I was delirious, and drug testing showed hallucinogenic drugs in my system. They put me into an immediate rehab center, and while I was recovering, Qadir told them a different story."
"What was the story?"
"That he'd come across the terrorists holding Nicole, Brian, and me, that he'd killed two of those men to save my life. Which wasn't true. He'd killed them to provide cover for his story, to make him look like someone who had decided he was tired of the bloodshed, that he wanted to change his life, be a better person."
"I still don't see how they could believe that?"
"It was beyond me. But Qadir was a con man, and they were blinded by the opportunity to get someone like him acting as an asset."
"And now he's back out in the world, doing terrible things."
"Yes, with more power than he had before."
"Why didn't he kill you, Max?"
"He had a plan to use me for leverage. Fortunately, the team got there in time to capture Qadir and save me, just not the others."
"I'm sorry about that. Was the team from your agency, or was it a team from Delta?"
"It was a mix," he said, meeting her gaze. "Tyler Brennan was part of it, although he wasn't at the rescue. He was someone I'd seen earlier that week, before it all went to hell. There was a break in the intelligence chain. That's how Qadir got to the three of us in the beginning. I don't know that Brennan had anything to do with it. But I also don't know that he didn't."
"Why would Tyler suspect you of being a traitor if you were the one who was responsible for sending Qadir's location?"
"Because I was the sole survivor. Brennan wasn't the only one to question why I was still alive."
She drew a breath and let it out, her eyes filled with confusion. "It sounds like a nightmare."
"It feels that way to me."
"Is it possible you don't really know what happened, Max? If you were hallucinating, how can you be sure of your memories?"
