Lincoln Hospital (Trauma #1) (13 page)

"Get ahold of yourself, you imbecile," she muttered. Lusting after a man that had killed another human that very day, and was her boss no less. It was ridiculous. She was ridiculous. He’d made it clear after their one steamy make-out session that he didn’t want anything to do with her on a romantic level.

A knock on her apartment door startled her and had wine sloshing over the rim of her glass. Panic gripped her as she irrationally thought it was her attacker, before remembering that he was dead.

"Athena." Cian's strong voice flowed from behind the door. "Let me in." Oh, God it was Cian.  What the hell was he doing there? Frantic, she looked in the mirror.  Her dark tresses were piled on top of her head in a lopsided bun that she quickly tightened into place.  Her face had been washed clean of all make-up and she was wearing a ratty, oversized t-shirt that fell to her knees.  It was one of her favorite and made the perfect comfy nightgown.  With no time to dash to her room to change, she sighed and pulled open the door.

“What are you doing here?” she asked straight away.  He was holding two white bags that smelled suspiciously like burgers and fries.

He pushed his way inside and kicked the door closed behind him before answering. “Well when Sabine and I found out that you drove yourself home,” that earned her a stern glare. “We flipped a coin on who would get to come over here to yell at you.  I won,” he explained.  “I decided to show you a little mercy and figured since you’d likely be drowning yourself in some sort of alcohol, I’d pick up some dinner.  Sabine said this was your weakness,” he lifted the bags.

Athena was shocked.  He was actually being kind to her, talking to her like she was an actual human being instead of just an intern.

“Um, yah it is.  Well, come in,” she invited, leading him to the living room where he sat on her black leather sofa and she went to the kitchen to pour him a glass of wine and grab a couple of plates.

Joining him in the living room, she handed him the wine and then dug into the take-out bags, sharing out the burgers and fries between them.  They ate in silence for a few moments, Athena praying that he wouldn’t notice the way her hands were still shaking. Of course, that didn’t happen as this was Cian and he never missed a thing.

He placed his hand over hers and rested the other on her cheek, turning her to face him.  “Hey.  You okay?”

She nodded jerkily and pulled her gaze from his, not wanting to get lost in the dark pools of his stare.

“I thought he was going to kill me,” she whispered, putting her burger down.  The food was starting to come back up her throat and she didn’t want to embarrass herself by barfing all over the man.

“I know.  I was worried there for a moment as well.  But, Athena, he’s gone now and you’re safe.  I promise.”  He took her hand and her fingers automatically intertwined with his, the chemistry sizzled between them and it was a Herculean effort on his part to not scoop her into his arms and kiss her senseless once again.

She looked up at him and the naked vulnerability in her eyes was almost his undoing.  Before he did something neither of them could take back, he stood up and headed for the door.  She followed him, confused at his abrupt change.

At the door, he turned to her and kissed her forehead before opening it and stepping into the hallway.  “Get some rest.  Lock up,” he said and then he was gone.

Athena did as he said and then leaned against the wall, letting her head fall back. “Oh no, that doesn’t complicate things at all. Fuck.”

L
AYLA HUNT WAS close to giving up.  She had no idea how long it’d been now since she’d been taken prisoner by the two sick fucks that had her, but it definitely felt like a lifetime.  The longer she was held in captivity by the two madmen, the more she lost hope that she’d ever escape or be set free.  Her body held the scars of their fetish; their obsession with blood.  The younger man, Dane, had inflicted dozens of cuts, stabbed her superficially multiple times.  Never deep enough to cause serious damage, but painful enough so that she felt it and he got his taste of her blood.

The older man, Marcus, was the more sadistic of the two. He preferred to watch and instruct which in her mind made him all the more dangerous.  He was very careful to rarely touch her or partake in the torture that Dane put her through.  Dane had abused her, but had yet to rape her. Each day it went farther and farther and she knew it wouldn’t be long before it happened.  The thought terrified her as she knew she wouldn’t survive being forced against her will.  She had to keep her strength up and find a way out of the house she was being held in before the unthinkable happened.

Since she’d been moved a few weeks ago—at least she thought it’d been a few weeks—she was now kept in a small bedroom, her ankle attached to a short chain that allowed her just enough freedom to walk to the adjoining bathroom and back.  At least she’d been given the luxury of a toilet, when she’s first been taken she’d only been given a stainless steel bucket.  It was humiliating.

She knew that she wasn’t the only captive in the house, she’d heard the screams, the begging for help, the pleas for mercy.  Several of the women seemed to have it worse off than she did if their cries were any indication.  She hoped like hell that the opportunity to escape presented itself; she wouldn’t rest until every one of those women were free.

She got that determination from her father.  A firefighter, he’d worked his way up the ranks until he became Chief, an accomplishment he was so proud of.  His marriage to her mother was a rocky one.  Ghosts from the past constantly rose up and got between them, causing more than once for one of them to walk away, stating that it was over between them before it even started. Their love always held though and they conquered their differences and patched things up.  Layla feared that if anything happened to her, all bets in that department would be off.

The door to her room opened and Dane entered, a huge grin on his face. “And how is my little Lay Lay today? Ha, I rhymed.” Dane laughed at his own joke and closed the door behind him, clicking the lock into place.

“Fuck off,” she spat back, not in the mood for him at all.

“Yep, same smart mouth as always.  God, I love that about you. Wonder if that’s a trait you get from your mother or your father?” He waved his hand at her, indicating he didn’t expect a response to his question.

“You brought another girl here,” she accused, furious that he was still getting away with what he was doing.

“You really never miss a thing do you, darlin’?” he chuckled and then withdrew the machete from behind his back.  Layla’s eyes bugged out of her head at the sight of it.  She’d never seen him come in with a weapon like that before.

“Ah, this got a reaction from you, didn’t it?”  His grin was cold, wicked delight at the fear springing to life in her eyes.

“W—what are you going to do with that?” she stammered out, afraid to hear the answer.

“Well, I thought I’d start by...” he didn’t finish his sentence, just charged forward and lashed out, slicing down her arm in one fluid movement.

“Ahhhhhhhh!” she screamed, jumping back and trying to clutch the entire gash with one hand.  “Stop, stop, fuck!” she cried out as he repeated the motion on her other arm.  Both were now gushing with blood and he stood there greedily taking in the sight.

As he started to reach for her, no doubt to spread his hands through her blood like he always did, two things happened at once.  Layla moved forward instead of backwards and surprised, Dane went to sidestep and tripped knocking into her and toppling them both to the ground. Seizing the surprise opportunity, Layla quickly grabbed the chain restraining her ankle and wound it around Dane’s neck; pulling it tight.

Dane’s face turned purple as his oxygen was cut off.  Layla patted him down with her other hand and nearly squealed with delight when she found the keys to the cuff.  Dane’s head fell back and she knew he’d passed out, giving her just the freedom she needed to unlock herself.

Once free, she stood, swaying and nearly passing out herself.  Every instinct screamed at her to hurry, that if she wanted to get away, she needed to fucking move her ass.  Unlocking the door, she chanced one last look at Dane before running from the room, down the stairs and to the main door of the house.  Leaving all the other girls behind felt wrong, but there was nothing she could do for them when she was bleeding so profusely and didn’t have any help. She sent them a silent vow that she’d be back for them and then wrenched open the main door and ran like hell.

Freedom had never tasted so sweet and fresh air had never felt so good hitting her face.  At the first house she came across, she ran up the front steps and pounded on the door.

“Help!  Please, please let me in!” Thanking fuck when the door opened and a middle-aged man’s jaw dropped when he took in the sight over her covered head to toe in blood, she fell into his arms.

“Please call the police.  My name is Layla Hunt and I was kidnapped.  I—they—we need your help,” she begged before passing out cold.

“Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed. “Honey!” he yelled to his wife.  “Call the police now! It’s one of those missing girls!”

T
WO MONTHS PASSED without further incident at the hospital. Cian’s team fell into a routine on the new schedule and his “packages” had two more successful surgeries resulting in the extermination of more criminals.  His need to hunt was being satisfied, his desire to kill being fulfilled. The news reports on
The Watcher
seemed to die down after that young woman, Layla Hunt had escaped and been rescued.  It had been front page news on all the papers how she’d managed to get free and and identify the killers.  By the time police descended on the house she led them to, however, it was too late and they’d fled, leaving behind a house of bodies.  The news had devastated those families that still held out hope that the missing women would come home safe and sound.

It was a complete bloodbath, the violence in the marks on the girls showed that they’d been killed in a rage, likely to help them distract authorities enough for them to make their getaway.  As the sole survivor, Layla Hunt was going to have a long road of survivor’s guilt ahead of her.  The reports stated that she was back home with her family and receiving care for all that she’d endured.

Athena seemed to have bounced back after the attack on her in the lab. She’d thrown herself into her studying and increased her time practicing her skills and assisting on any and every case; no matter the specialty.  On their run-ins, neither mentioned that he’d shown up at her place that night, each preferring to live in their bubble that there was nothing more than a professional relationship between them.  He’d noticed Detective Holloway at the hospital a few times to see her, but when he’d made inquiries, the answer had been that it was related to the case.

Seeing them together annoyed the hell out of him.  Why was it that she could talk to him about the attack and how she was feeling but when he casually asked, she gave him a smile that didn’t reach those olive eyes and the standard, “I’m fine.” He’d never detested the word ‘fine’ more than he did when it fell from her lips.

At the end of shift, he changed clothes in the attendings’ lounge and when he came out, fell into step behind Athena and Sabine.  Both were dressed in regular clothes, curls bouncing in Athena’s dark brown hair and Sabine’s black hair as they walked down the long hallway towards the exit.  He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way her jeans hugged her tight little ass, the gentle sway of her hips distracting him to the point where it took all of his self-control not to drag her off into the nearest empty room and get his hands on her.

Distracted, he only caught pieces of their conversation. “—we need this.  A few drinks and a chance to unwind.  We haven’t had a day off in weeks and I for one plan to take full advantage of the one we have tomorrow by indulging in the three B’s.  Booze, boys and boy-I-can’t-wait-to-get-you-home-and-into-my-bed.” Sabine said on a giggle.

Athena hit her arm and Cian imagined she was rolling her eyes as she tended to do quite often around her best friend. The thought of the two of them dolled up and out on the prowl for one-night stands infuriated him.  Some slobbering, numbskull was going to get the chance to have Athena in his arms? To sink his cock into her and capture her moans as she came?  Oh, hell no.  If she needed sexual release, she could get it from him.  Not some bumbling idiot that wouldn’t know his dick from the end of a broomstick.  Quickening his step, he was about to drag her aside, when he got a hold of himself.  What the hell was his problem? When did he turn into a possessive jackass over a woman who wasn’t even his. Thoroughly disgusted with himself, he pulled back and let them go.  They disappeared out the door in a flurry of chatter and giggles and he stood stupidly in the hall staring after them for a few minutes.