Читать книгу Colton K-9 Bodyguard - Lara Lacombe - Страница 11

Chapter 2

Micah stared down at Bea’s bloody face, his heart in his throat. Was she—?

Her chest rose and fell, and relief washed over him as he realized she was still alive.

He reached for his walkie-talkie. “Brayden, I need backup. Call an ambulance.” He quickly relayed his position and returned his focus to Bea. Chunk nosed him inquisitively, and he realized he had forgotten to reward the dog for his find.

“Good job, buddy.” He dug in the pouch on his belt for a treat and absently handed it over. Chunk gobbled it up in one bite, then set about exploring the rest of the room.

“Bea?” Micah gently brushed the hair back from her forehead, noticing the nasty gash along her hairline as he did so. He glanced around, searching for something he could use to stanch the flow of blood from the wound. But all he saw were racks of wedding gowns and frilly lace veils. Bea would kill him if he ruined one of them, so he yanked his shirt from his belt and used his utility knife to cut off a strip from the T-shirt he wore underneath his button-down. It wasn’t sterile, but it was the best he could do at the moment.

She didn’t stir as he pressed the fabric to her head, and his worry grew. He wasn’t sure how long she’d been unconscious, but since her wound was still bleeding freely, the attack was probably recent. But where was her assailant?

No one had run out of the store into the alley, at least not since he and Brayden had arrived. They must have escaped through the front door. For a split second, Micah considered checking to see if the door was unlocked, but he didn’t want to leave Bea alone while she was still unconscious. Brayden would be here any minute, and he could look around for clues.

“Police!” Brayden’s voice boomed into the otherwise silent store, and some of Micah’s worry eased.

“Over here,” he called.

Brayden was at his side in an instant, his gaze taking in the scene. “What happened?” He knelt beside Micah, frowning at the sight of Bea’s bloody face. This was Brayden’s cousin, and though Micah knew Bea’s and Brayden’s branches of the family weren’t exactly close, it couldn’t be easy to see her this way.

“Not sure,” Micah replied. “Chunk alerted, and when we came in, he found her. No signs of an intruder, but I’m thinking they escaped out the front door since we didn’t see anyone in the alley.”

“I’ll go check.” Brayden stood and headed for the stockroom door. “Uh, Micah?”

“What?”

“I think Chunk has found something else.”

Micah turned to see the dog pacing back and forth in front of the door that led into the store proper. Chunk let out a low whine, and it was clear he was interested in something beyond the door.

“Can you take him?” he asked Brayden. “I don’t want to leave her alone.”

“No problem,” Brayden replied. Technically, Chunk was trained to work with Micah, but he would be fine with Brayden for a moment, especially in a closed environment like the boutique. “Chunk,” Micah commanded. “Go find.”

The dog let out a happy yip and shot into the other room when Brayden opened the door. After a few seconds, Micah heard his characteristic alert bark and knew the dog had discovered something.

Another injured person? Or a corpse?

Micah kept his shirt pressed to Bea’s head, silently willing her to wake up. He was no doctor, but the longer she stayed unconscious, the more his worry grew. “Come on, Bea,” he said softly. “Wake up for me.”

She stirred and her eyes fluttered open.

“Bea.” He breathed out her name on a sigh of relief. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Her dazed eyes focused on him. “Micah?” Her voice was weak, and her tone held a note of wonder as if she couldn’t believe she was really seeing him.

“Yes, it’s me. I’ll take care of you.”

“Don’t leave me.”

Her request pierced his heart. As if he could walk away from her now. “I won’t. I’ll stay with you. I promise.”

She smiled faintly, then closed her eyes again and appeared to drift back into unconsciousness.

“Oh, no you don’t. Wake up. Please keep talking to me.”

She frowned slightly. “Hurts.”

“I know, baby, but you need to stay awake.”

“Okay,” she said agreeably. But her eyes remained closed.

Where’s the ambulance? he thought desperately. The sooner Bea got to the hospital, the better.

Brayden returned at that moment, Chunk by his side. The dog trotted over to Micah and nosed the pouch on his belt, clearly ready for another reward. “Well?” Micah asked as he gave Chunk a treat. He glanced at the pair and then returned his gaze to Bea. Stay awake, he silently pleaded with her.

Brayden crouched down and ran a hand through his hair. “The front door was open. Probably how her assailant got away.”

Micah nodded. “And what else? What did Chunk find?”

His friend blew out a breath and a flash of misery passed across his features. “There’s a body in one of the fitting rooms. Looks like another victim of the Groom Killer.”

* * *

Her head felt like it was going to split open.

Bea winced against the bright lights of the hospital room and tried to shield her face from the glare. But it was no use. Even with her eyes closed, she felt like she was being stabbed directly in the brain with a needle.

Suddenly, the room went dark. “Is that better?”

She turned to the sound of the deep voice she recognized even after all these years apart. Micah.

“Much. Thank you.”

She cautiously opened her eyes to see the room was now in shadows. He’d flipped off the overhead lights and turned on the small bulb mounted under the wall cabinet. Her doctors probably wouldn’t appreciate working in the gloom, but it helped downgrade her headache from excruciating to manageable, and for that she was grateful.

Micah settled into a chair by her bed. “You stayed,” she said, a little surprised to still see him.

He met her eyes, his green gaze steady. “I promised I would.”

“Yes, but...” She trailed off. They had made promises to each other before, promises that hadn’t been kept.

Bea took a moment to study his face. It was still familiar, of course. But he’d changed in the years they’d been apart. Micah had always had a boyish glint in his eyes, a gleam of humor that persisted no matter how serious the situation. She was sad to see it was gone now, and wondered if it was hidden, or if his experiences in the war had permanently changed his personality. There were subtle lines around his mouth and eyes, a testament to the fact that he still smiled, at least. His skin was a warm gold, the product of time spent in the sun, no doubt. And he still had the same build, although he was a bit leaner, a bit harder now than when she’d known him in high school.

“You look good,” she said quietly. There were so many things she wanted to say, and the questions piled up in her throat. Why didn’t you contact me after you left for basic training? Why didn’t you respond to my letters and calls? Did you ever really love me? But she swallowed the impulse to interrogate him. Did it really matter after all this time? It wasn’t as if they could pick up where they’d left off. They had both been eighteen and supposedly in love. So much had happened since then, they were like two different people now. Two strangers, meeting for the first time.

A grin flashed across his face, there and gone in the space of a second. “I wish I could say the same for you,” he said, his gaze darting meaningfully to the bandage on her head. His eyes softened. “This wasn’t how I pictured meeting you again.”

So he’d thought about her, after all? His words gave her a little thrill, but she quickly crushed the feeling. It was only natural she’d cross his mind. Red Ridge wasn’t a huge city, and he’d probably figured it was only a matter of time until they ran into each other. She’d known he moved back to town after retiring from the military. But Bea had assumed she’d have time to mentally and emotionally prepare herself for seeing him again. Being confronted with his presence now brought up all kinds of emotions and feelings she had thought she’d conquered long ago. The experience was almost as unsettling as being attacked in her boutique.

A sudden commotion sounded from the hall, and she thought she heard the muffled boom of her father’s voice. “Oh, no,” she muttered.

Micah rose and headed toward the door. “I’ll take care of it,” he said confidently. “You just rest.”

He was gone before she had a chance to thank him, leaving her alone in the dim room. She leaned her head back against the stiff pillow with a sigh, not knowing whether to be grateful or concerned that Micah had headed out to deal with her father. Fenwick Colton was hard-headed and stubborn and used to getting his way. And he and Micah had always been like oil and water, the two of them never seeing eye to eye. If her father was upset now, and it certainly sounded like he was, seeing Micah would likely send him over the edge.

But Bea was too tired to care right now. Micah wasn’t the same boy she’d dated in high school, and it wouldn’t take long for her father to realize that. Maybe Fenwick would view Micah as an adult now, and treat him accordingly instead of talking down to him like he always had.

“And maybe I’ll sprout wings and fly out of here,” she snorted. The chances of Micah and her father turning over a new leaf were next to impossible, but a girl could dream.

But...did it really matter? After all, she and Micah weren’t exactly going to pick things up where they’d left off. She couldn’t deny the idea was appealing. Part of her had never stopped loving Micah, and she wasn’t going to lie to herself and pretend otherwise. That didn’t mean he felt the same way about her, and even if he did, she wasn’t sure she could forgive him for abandoning her all those years ago.

She shifted on the bed, the memories coming fast and furious now. Their last night together before Micah had left for basic training... They’d held each other all night, planning their future, picturing the life they would build together.

It’ll be over before you know it, he’d whispered into her hair. And once I’m done with basic training, I’ll come back and we’ll get married. I can’t wait to see you wear my ring.

She’d pressed her ear to his chest, loving the sound of his heartbeat in her ear. I’ll write to you every day, she’d promised. And I’ll start planning the wedding.

He’d left early the next morning, and she’d spent the rest of the week trying not to cry. True to her word, she’d written to him every day, sealing each letter with a kiss. She’d known he’d be too busy to write back, so it was an exciting surprise to find a letter from him about ten weeks after he left.

She’d raced up the stairs to her room, her heart pounding a mile a minute. Micah must be writing to tell her about when he was coming home, and to ask about the wedding plans. She’d been working hard to plan the ceremony—she wanted to keep things simple, which was almost unheard of her in family. But her father had made it clear he didn’t approve of her relationship with Micah, and she wasn’t about to ask him to pay for anything.

She’d flung herself onto the bed and carefully peeled open the envelope, withdrawing the letter. She’d felt a slight pang as she saw it wasn’t very long—after so long apart, she wanted to know every detail of what he’d been up to—but she’d reminded herself he didn’t have a lot of free time, and his sleep was more important that the length of his letters. She sank back onto a pillow, intending to savor every word. But as she started to read, her elation had quickly turned to confusion.

Dear Bea,

I’m sorry to end things like this, but I don’t think we should be together anymore. Being away from you has made me realize we want different things, and I’ve come to realize that I can’t be both a soldier and a husband. I don’t need a wife tying me down and holding me back. I know this comes as a surprise, but I’m sure you’ll find someone else.

Micah

Even after all these years, she could close her eyes and see the letter clear as day. The image was burned into her brain, each word chipping away at her heart until she felt like there was nothing left.

At first, she’d gone numb. After a few days, the pain had hit, followed quickly by anger. She’d written him back, demanding an explanation, needing to know why he’d changed his mind. She’d even tried calling, but that hadn’t worked. Eventually, she’d worked her way into acceptance and decided to move on with her life.

That didn’t stop her from checking the news on a daily basis, her worry spiking every time she heard about an American death. She scoured the internet, searching for the identities of fallen soldiers, breathing a little sigh of relief each time she realized Micah’s name was not among the list of heroes.

She had tried to find love again, but it just never seemed to be in the cards. She’d dated a few men who were perfectly nice, but they never made her heart race and her skin tingle the way Micah had. Just being around him had been enough to make every nerve ending in her body stand up and pay attention. He had made her feel alive, made the world seem ripe with potential, as if anything and everything could happen at any moment.

It was so different from life in her father’s house, where everything was carefully planned and executed, leaving no room for chance. Routine and structure were the guiding principles of her childhood, and she’d long ago realized she wanted—no, needed—more freedom. The men she’d dated since Micah had been safe, and had met with her father’s approval. But marrying one of them would have guaranteed her future would echo her past, and she just couldn’t bring herself to sign up for more of the same. Much to her father’s chagrin, Bea had decided being single was preferable to a life spent yearning for more.

It hadn’t been a difficult decision, and she hadn’t had any doubts about her choice. Until now.

Could I be any more pathetic? She’d spent less than an hour in Micah’s presence, and with a splitting headache to boot, and she was already questioning her hard-earned happiness. Logically, she knew she’d built a good life for herself and that she didn’t need a man to find fulfillment or completion. I’m doing just fine on my own, she thought stubbornly.

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the persistent whisper of her heart.

He’s the one.