Texas Hunt. Barb Han
Whatever was on her mind, she had no intention to share just yet. He could tell by the set of her jaw and the look in her eye. Lucky for her, he was a patient man. “The deputy should be here shortly to take your statement. You hungry for anything? I could run out and pick up whatever sounds good.”
“I doubt I could eat anything,” she said. Those bluish-green eyes pushed past his walls—walls he’d worked damn hard to construct.
Lisa was attractive. Only an idiot would argue that point and Ryan didn’t put himself in that particular category. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit to a certain pull he felt toward her every time she was around.
But that was where it ended. Where it had to end.
Sure, a few of his friends had found true partnerships with other people recently. Even though Ryan had been against Brody and Rebecca’s relationship early on because of their history, the two were the happiest he’d ever seen them. Dylan and Samantha seemed perfect for each other. Love seemed to suit his friends. Denying the nose on his face wouldn’t change anything. Besides, Ryan was truly happy for his best buds.
But only a man with a need for punishment did the same thing over and over again expecting a different result. Lisa had shot him down before when he thought he’d picked up on a mutual attraction. Even though he felt that same sizzle between them now, only a fool would act on it. And not only because she was in a hospital bed, hurt. That just made it inappropriate.
Ryan had other reasons not to get involved with anyone. For one, he didn’t need anyone to take care of him. He was perfectly fine living the bachelor’s life.
Brody and Dylan might have found their other halves and taken up relationships, and Ryan didn’t begrudge them. No two people deserved that kind of bliss more than his friends. He had to admit that they seemed happier than they’d ever been. And that was all pink lemonade and roses for them.
Ryan didn’t need anyone else to “complete” him. He’d come into the world a whole human being and planned to leave the same way. Living on his own suited him. He liked waking up with the sun and going where he pleased. Was he selfish? Maybe. He was so used to taking care of family members for most of his life that he didn’t have much left to give anyone else.
Had his life seemed a little lacking lately? Sure. It would cycle around again.
And if it didn’t, he’d get a dog. People were so damn disappointing.
A hospital was no place to sleep. Even with the lights turned off Lisa couldn’t relax, especially since Ryan had gone home. To make matters worse, a nurse or technician padded in every hour on the dot to wrap gauges around her arm or take more blood. After what felt like the fiftieth time but was more like the fifth, Lisa was beginning to lose patience.
Lack of sleep and constant ache did nothing to improve her mood. Plus, the news of her father...she couldn’t even go there. Grief would engulf her if she allowed herself time to think about it. Emotions were a luxury she couldn’t afford. Beckett was still out there. The rest of her family was in danger. As difficult as it was, Lisa had to maintain focus.
At least she’d convinced her sister to leave town. Lori and Grayson were in a swank fishing cabin on a lake in Arkansas. That was the only bit of good news in what had been one of the worst days of Lisa’s life.
Dad.
Thinking about him, about what had happened brought a whole new wave of sadness crashing down around her.
She tried to ease to a sitting position, searching her memory for any sign he’d been relapsing. Pain pierced her chest, her arms and her back with movement. No use. She’d refused pain medication, needing a clear head. She was still reeling from the news of losing her father while trying to sort out why any of this was happening now. She’d kept Beckett’s secret, dammit. Shouldn’t that have bought her a pass?
One of the lab techs padded in. Great.
Trying to sort out the day’s events while Prickzilla jabbed another needle contributed to a dull ache in the spot right between her eyes.
Take a deep breath. Count to ten.
It wasn’t a magical cure but she felt better.
“Try to get some sleep,” Dracula-in-an-aquamarine-jumpsuit whispered before she closed the door behind her and disappeared.
If only it were that easy.
Lisa tossed and turned for another half hour at least. As frustration got the best of her she resorted to counting sheep.
Still didn’t work.
Just like when she was a kid, the darn things shape-shifted into snakes, their slimy bodies slithering after her. The closet had offered a perfect hiding spot when she was six. Another half dozen years later, Beckett Alcorn had been the beast that kept her awake nights. There wasn’t a closet big enough now for the monster she faced.
In the category of “not making it better,” she was wide-awake at—she checked the clock—three fifteen in the morning. Great. Even the chickens were conked out at this hour. Lisa had been drifting in and out, but every time she got close the door would creak open and a nurse or technician would pad inside. It was probably just as well. Anytime Lisa got anywhere near real sleep, she’d jolt awake from one of several nightmares ready to cue at a moment’s notice.
In one scenario, hands were closing around her throat. She woke screaming, giving the nurse who was attending to her quite a scare.
In another dream, fists were coming at her from every direction and she felt blood spilling out of her cracked skull with each jab.
After the last round of fifty ways to beat up Lisa, she gave up checking the clock. There was no use realizing just how late it was and how little REM she was getting.
The worst-case nightmare involved being held under water, drowning, only to bob to the surface and find that it was Ryan holding her down. There was no doubt in her mind that he would never try to hurt her in her waking world. Absolutely no way could she even consider him doing her harm on purpose. The dream must represent something she feared. Didn’t need a psychology degree to know she’d been afraid of the opposite sex ever since that summer, ever since Beckett.
What did it say about her that even a male friend scared her to death?
She thought about that as she drifted off to her first real sleep.
A hand clamped around Lisa’s throat so hard she feared her windpipe would crack. She struggled against the crushing grip. It was like trying to peel off custom-fitted steel.
Her fight, flee or freeze response triggered as she railed against the force pushing her deeper into the mattress. She tried to scream, but no sound came out. In her other dreams she’d always been able to shout.
Coughing, she had the frightening realization that this wasn’t a dream.
She was wide-awake.
A soft object, maybe a pillow, was being pressed against her face, suffocating her.
More coughing came as her lungs desperately clawed for air.
Could she somehow signal one of the nurses? Where were they? How had someone walked right past them in the middle of the night and gotten into her room? She felt around for the call button, but came up empty.
Oh. God. No.
Desperate and afraid, she reached for her attacker. Her hand stopped on denim material. Must’ve been his leg, meaning he was most likely straddled over her. Beckett?
At twelve, Lisa had blamed herself for what he’d done to her. She’d been too embarrassed and too scared to tell anyone. Beckett had threatened to kill everyone she loved if she so much as breathed a word of his actions, and he had the power to follow through with his warning. He’d threatened to do