Searching for Risk, page 7
Anna smirked. “Yeah, I bet it was.”
“But we’re not a couple. It was a semi-drunken one-night thing.”
“Says the woman who has sat at his bedside for three days.”
“What, I’m not allowed to be worried?” Her hands clenched on the table as she replayed images that she feared would be etched in her mind forever – a wall of flames devouring the mountain, a lone figure walking out of the barn with a dog in his arms, engulfed in smoke and fire, his jacket disintegrating as he emerged. “I watched him walk out of a flaming building while on fire. His jacket melted.”
Anna’s eyes softened. “Of course you’re allowed to worry.”
“If it were you or Zak or Ash or any of our friends, I’d still be here.”
“Okay.” Anna held up her hands. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Sasha closed her eyes and took a moment to rein in the unexpected surge of defensiveness. “No, I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’m sorry I snapped. I’m tired.”
Anna reached across the table and gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “We all are, honey.”
“There is something between Donovan and me,” she admitted with a sigh. “I just... don’t know how to classify it. And until he wakes up and we can figure it out, I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Okay, fair.” Anna pressed her lips together and made it all of two heartbeats before blurting, “But Donovan? I know he’s hot as hell, but... I mean... you know the rumors about him.”
“I’m aware.” Everybody in town knew the rumors, and everybody in town had their theories. Until the other night, she’d never really had an opinion about it. While Donovan and Darcy were in her graduating class, she’d only known them in passing. And at the time of Darcy’s disappearance, she’d been too wrapped up in her own trauma to care.
But now?
A man who would risk his life to save three dogs couldn’t also be a cold-blooded killer. Of that, she was certain.
“And what about Ash?” Anna asked. “You finally caught his eye at the fundraiser. I know he’s planning on taking you to dinner when things calm down around here.”
A sharp pang of guilt twisted in Sasha’s chest. “Ash is great, but he’s not...” She searched for the right words. He was not… what? Donovan? Well, obviously. They were two very different men. One was by the book and the other had burned the book a long time ago. “I don’t want you to think I’m leading your brother on. I’m not. When things settle down, I’ll tell him. It’s just… Donovan... he makes me...”
“Feel?” Anna suggested.
“Yes,” she breathed. “All the things.”
Anna nodded slowly. “I get it. It was the same for me when Zak came back into my life, despite all the warning bells telling me I shouldn’t get involved with him again.”
“But that turned out okay.”
“Yes, it did. After a lot of drama and other stuff. But Donovan… in a lot of ways, he has more baggage than even Zak.”
Sasha snorted a laugh. “Nobody has more baggage than Zak Hendricks.”
“Well, maybe that was true a couple years ago, but now, he’s in a better headspace than me most days. The point is, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I appreciate that, but I know what I’m doing.” She hoped. “I can take care of myself.”
Anna grinned. “Damn right, you can. That’s one of the many reasons I love you.”
Sasha smiled back, grateful for the subject change. “Love you too, Anna. And thank you, again, for letting me take Matilda. I’ll pick her up on my way home tonight.”
“I couldn’t think of anyone better for her, Sash. And hey, like you said, we’ll rebuild. We’ll come back stronger and better than ever.”
Sasha nodded but couldn’t shake the feeling that things would never be the same. The fire had destroyed everything, and yet it seemed to have ignited something within her. The feelings she had for Donovan were more than just physical attraction that she could ignore. She cared about him in a way that she couldn’t explain. But did he feel the same way?
But for now, all she could do was sit and wait by Donovan’s bedside, hoping he would wake up soon.
When Zak and Anna left, she reached out and took his hand again. She traced the lines of his palm, wondering what he was dreaming about, and his fingers twitched beneath hers. She gasped, staring down at his hand. His fingers twitched again. She leaned in closer, watching as his eyelids fluttered.
Donovan’s eyes slowly opened, and he blinked a few times. His lips parted, and a small groan escaped him.
“Donovan?” she whispered.
His gaze fastened on her, and for a moment, he seemed to struggle to remember who she was. But then, his eyes widened with recognition, and he smiled weakly. He tried to speak, but no sound came out, and he coughed, wincing in pain.
Sasha reached for the glass of water on the table, holding it to his lips, helping him drink. Relief flooded her and brought a rush of tears to her eyes. “You’re okay. You’re okay now.” She leaned down and pressed her lips against his cheek, the rough stubble of his three-day beard scraping against her skin. “God, you scared me.”
“Sasha…” His voice was nothing more than a gravelly rasp of sound. “What happened?”
“The fire,” she said softly. “You saved the dogs.”
“Fire?” His brow furrowed as if he couldn’t remember. “Is everyone okay?”
She nodded. “They’re all being taken care of. But you—you have some serious burns.”
He looked down at his bandaged arms and winced. “Yeah, I remember now.” He groaned as he tried to sit up.
She quickly stood and placed her hand on his chest, urging him to stay still. “No, don’t move.”
He looked at her, his gaze intense. “How long have I been out?”
“You were more than just out. You were in a coma for three days. The barn’s ceiling collapsed when you were still inside, and you have a bad concussion.”
“Great,” he muttered. “More scrambled eggs.”
“What?”
He shut his eyes. “Nothing. Just explains why I’m seeing two of you.”
“Only two?”
“Yeah, I think so. But...” He squinted at her, then his eyes shifted to the corner of the room. He stared like he saw something there. She looked over her shoulder, a chill racing down her spine. The corner was empty.
Her stomach twisted with dread. He’d already suffered a major brain injury. What if this knock on the head had done more irreparable damage? “You just need some more rest. Let me get the nurse to check on you.”
He caught her hand before she could turn away. “Is Ash here? I need to talk to him.”
“I think he was. I’ll go find him and get a nurse.” She stood up and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. As she walked down the hall, her mind raced with thoughts of Donovan. She knew she couldn’t ignore her feelings. She had to talk to him about what had happened between them.
As she approached the nurse’s station, she heard someone call her name. Turning around, she saw Ash approaching from the other end of the hallway.
“Sasha, I’ve been looking for you,” he said, sounding concerned. “Is everything okay?”
She nodded. “Donovan woke up. He’s asking for you.”
Ash’s expression darkened at the mention of Donovan’s name. “Of course he is.”
Sasha frowned as guilt twinged. “Ash, I need to talk to you.”
“I’m sorry, can it wait?” he asked, his gaze locked on Donovan’s room.
The anxiety that had been tickling her senses changed to an icy fear now. She nervously glanced from him to the door and back. “What’s going on?”
Ash’s gaze stayed on the door. “I don’t trust him. He’s always been trouble.”
“I know he has a past, but he saved the dogs, Ash. He’s in the hospital because he risked his life to protect them. Not many other men would do that.”
“Listen, I know it seems like he’s a good guy under all that swagger, but I’ve known him a long time. He’s bad news, Sasha. Please, just do me a favor and stay away from him.”
Sasha’s stomach twisted at the intensity in Ash’s voice. She had known he didn’t like Donovan, but she hadn’t realized how deeply he felt about it. “Didn’t you used to be friends? What happened between you two?”
He clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as he finally looked away from the door and focused on her face. “It’s not important. What’s important is that you stay away from him. He’ll only hurt you in the end.”
“I don’t believe that. Donovan has been nothing but kind to me.”
“That’s because he wants something from you,” Ash spat out, his eyes flashing with anger. “He’s not a good guy, Sasha.”
“Why are you saying this now? What happened?”
A nurse walked by right then and disappeared into Donovan’s room. Ash took her by the arm and led her away from the door. He lowered his voice. “Listen, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I need you to be safe. Okay? So if I tell you this, you’ll stay away from Donovan and let me do my job without worrying about you?”
She hesitated a beat, then nodded. “Okay.”
He took a breath and let it out in a slow exhale. “Okay. A group of hotshots fighting the fire uncovered a body on the mountain. It’s badly burned, and there’s no telling if we’ll get any DNA, but we strongly suspect it’s Darcy Cantrell.”
“Oh my God.” She lifted a trembling hand to her mouth. “You found her.”
chapter ten
As Sasha stepped out into the hall, Donovan closed his eyes and let the world slip out of focus. The pressure in his head was intense, and he saw it pounding with each pulse of blood behind his eyes. He sank back into the flattened pillows propped behind him, but that didn’t help. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and his stomach lurched.
Fuck. He was not going to be sick in front of Sasha.
He swallowed back the surge of bile and turned his gaze toward the door, careful not to move his head or look at the corner of the room.
Where was Sasha? She still hadn’t returned.
“She’s not coming back,” the hallucination said.
Jesus fucking Christ. He had to get a grip. “You’re not really there.”
In the months after his TBI, he’d had night terrors that seeped into his waking hours. Visions so real, he’d once attacked a guy in a bar because he thought the man was a terrorist wearing a bomb vest. He thought he was past it—it had been a long time since his last hallucination—but apparently, this concussion had triggered them again.
Darcy Cantrell was not standing in the corner of his hospital room. She’d been gone for a very long time.
Vanished.
Dead.
He took deep, even breaths, just like his therapist had taught him. But the more he tried to control his breathing, the more he felt himself slipping into a panic attack. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his heart raced, banging around in the too-small confines of his chest. His fingers dug into the sheets by his hips.
“That won’t work, Van. It never works.” Darcy’s ghost scoffed as she moved into his line of sight. She looked exactly the same as the last time he saw her: dark hair up in a ponytail with her bangs swept to the side, big hoop earrings sparkling at her ears, a short gray denim vest over a black shirt, and a thick, studded black belt circling her hips. As always, when she appeared to him, she only wore one of her red canvas shoes. Her other foot was bare. “You can’t breathe me away. You’ll never get rid of me.”
“You’re not real. You’re just a figment of my fucked up brain. Not real. Not real.” Eyes squeezed shut, he repeated it to himself, over and over, until his breathing slowly returned to normal. He opened his eyes once again and scanned the room, taking note of every little detail in an attempt to ground himself in reality. The bland gray walls, the beeping machines, the sterile smell of disinfectant in the too-cold air.
And Darcy wasn’t here.
The sheets—too starched and white. The blanket—too thin and scratchy. The hospital gown—too stiff and rough against his raw, burned skin. The tape holding the IV in his hand itched.
And Darcy. Wasn’t. Here.
But Sasha should be. Where the hell was she?
A figure appeared in the doorway, long hair in a ponytail. The panic surged back, and he opened his mouth to scream at her—
No, not Darcy.
Just a nurse. He snapped his mouth shut and told himself to fucking relax. He’d gotten through this once. He could do it again.
The nurse took his vitals and made a big fuss over the fact he was awake, like popping his eyes open was an Olympic sport and he’d just won gold. He tolerated her poking and prodding with barely-restrained impatience.
Fuck, he hated hospitals.
When she finally left with the promise of bringing back a doctor, another figure stepped through the door.
But it wasn’t Darcy again.
And it wasn’t Sasha, either.
Ash.
Right. He had asked to see the guy but couldn’t help the bitter resentment that it was the sheriff and not the woman he wanted.
“What did you want to see me about?” Ash asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Uh…” He struggled to organize his jumbled thoughts into a semblance of sanity. “The fire. It was arson.”
Ash’s lips thinned, nearly disappearing under his beard, which was usually neat but now looked like it needed a weed-whacker to trim. “How do you know that?”
“Because I saw—” He stopped and glanced at the corner again. It was still empty, but now he was doubting himself. Could he trust anything he saw right now? Maybe he hadn’t actually seen the figure in the flames, watching everything burn. Maybe it was like Darcy. Not real.
“What did you see?” Ash prompted.
He started to shake his head, but the knife of pain through his skull put a quick end to that. He sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t know. It might have been nothing, but I thought I saw someone in the barn with me.”
“If anyone was in that barn, they’re dead now.”
“No, he had on turnout gear.” Even as the words left his mouth, he knew how crazy they sounded.
Ash made an exasperated sound. “That was Tiago Jimenez. He happened to be driving by when your dumb ass ran back into a burning building, and Sasha flagged him down. He pulled you out of there.”
Had he?
Donovan tried to replay those long minutes trapped inside the barn, but it was all jagged images and blurs of movement. “No. No, that’s not right. I… I got myself out. I carried Spirit out.”
“Tiago carried Spirit out, then went back in after you when the roof collapsed.”
“No. That’s not what happened.” He tried to get up, but again, the one-two punch of pain and nausea had him sinking back into the bed. “Ash, I’m telling you. That’s not right.”
Ash narrowed his eyes. “You have a TBI and a concussion. Your memory is not reliable right now.”
Donovan gritted his teeth. He could trust his own memories. He had to trust them because without them, who was he? “I know what I saw, and it wasn’t Tiago coming to the rescue. Whoever it was, they were just standing there. They were watching the place burn. Enjoying it. I couldn’t see his face, but I know the bastard was smiling.”
Ash held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. I’ll investigate and see if there is any evidence backing up your claim of arson.” Sorrow flickered in his eyes, there and gone in an instant. “But, Van, there’s already a shit-ton of trouble bearing down on you. Don’t make things worse for yourself by telling people that you see things that aren’t there.”
He wanted to argue, but the fight was draining out of him. The pain roaring in his head was getting to be too much. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe through it. When he opened his eyes again, he was relieved to see that the corner of his room was still empty.
But then he noticed something else. Sasha still hadn’t returned.
“Where’s Sasha?” he asked, panic tightening his chest.
“I sent her home,” Ash said.
“Why?”
Ash’s gaze was molten. “Why do you think? You’re poison, Donovan. You always have been. Don’t infect her, too.”
Donovan gritted his teeth. He was sick of people treating him like he was some kind of disease to be avoided. “You’re only saying that because you want her.”
“I’m saying it because she’s a friend, and I don’t want to see her dragged down into your dangerous bullshit.”
“My dangerous bullshit? I didn’t start the fire. I just ran into it to save my dog. And your sister’s pet projects.”
“You didn’t have to do that. You could’ve waited for help.”
“You did it, too.”
“Only because Sasha said you’d gone inside. I did it for you, jackass. And instead of staying safe, you ran right back into the flames.”
“Yeah, I did. There wasn’t time to wait, and losing those dogs would’ve crushed Anna. I wasn’t going to let that happen. That’s what friends do, Ash.”
“You’re not my friend anymore, man. You’re just someone I used to know.”
Donovan shook his head in disbelief, and the motion nearly made him throw up. He swallowed hard, ordering his stomach to stay put. “You know, for a cop, you’re a judgmental asshole.”
“And you’re just an asshole.”
“Fuck you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
Ash took a step forward, his fists clenched. “You’ve got a lot of nerve talking to me like that, considering everything you’ve done.”
“And what exactly have I done?” Donovan shot back. He was so fucking tired of being blamed for everything that went wrong in this town.
“You know damn well,” Ash snarled.
“Go on. Say it. You think I killed her. You think I killed Darcy.”
“I don’t think. I know somebody killed her because we just found her body burned to a fucking crisp, and I know you were the last person to see her alive.”
