For Her Eyes Only. Sharon Sala

For Her Eyes Only - Sharon Sala


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assistance and those who’d accompanied the injured to the hospital, he found himself in the role of referee. Twice in the last few minutes, he’d been forced to get between a doctor working on a patient and the person who’d brought in the injured person. Panic was rampant.

      “Hey! Back off and let the doctor do her job!” Stone ordered, yelling to make himself heard above an angry biker’s shout. When the biker, who called himself Red, took a swing at him, Stone shoved him up against a wall.

      Nearby, Amanda Jennings, one of the doctors on duty, did what she could to staunch the flow of blood spilling down the other biker’s face. Red grabbed at Stone’s arm in frustration.

      “But that’s my buddy she’s—”

      Stone glanced at the hand locked around his wrist, and then looked back up at the biker as his voice lowered to a menacing growl.

      “I don’t care if he’s your fairy godfather. Either you sit down and shut up, or you’re going to spend the night in jail for assault.”

      At that point, Red might have recognized more than the voice of authority. The gleam in Stone’s eyes was warning enough for him.

      “Fine with me,” Red muttered, and glared at the doctor before slinking off to the waiting room.

      Without taking her eyes from her patient and the stitches she was putting in the side of his face, Amanda Jennings muttered a quick, fervent thanks.

      “Glad you were here,” she said shortly.

      Stone nodded. Dr. Amanda Jennings was all business, even though her size belied her strength. She was only a couple of inches over five feet tall, but her skill more than compensated for her lack of height.

      “Glad I could help,” he answered, and headed back into the hallway where humanity streamed by at a steady, frantic pace.

      An ambulance slid to a halt just outside the door, and Stone stepped aside as paramedics came running into the building with a patient strapped fast to a blood-splattered gurney. From where he was standing, he got a quick glimpse of the woman beneath the sheets. She was young and slender, her long blond hair steadily staining with a blood flow the paramedics had been unable to staunch. He winced. Another person had fallen victim to the Grand Springs blackout.

      As the gurney moved past him, Stone’s heart, quite literally, stopped. It was only for a moment, but the skipped beat was evidence of the shock of his recognition. He knew that upturned nose. He’d seen that mouth many times before. He’d kissed it more times than he could count. And he still remembered the shock he’d felt upon learning that Jessica Hanson had left Grand Springs without so much as a goodbye.

      He hadn’t known until she was gone how much he’d cared for her, but even then it hadn’t been enough to make him go after her. Stone wasn’t stupid. He’d learned the hard way that being a cop and being married weren’t always synonymous, at least not for him. He’d cared for Jessie. He’d loved making love with her. But he wasn’t going to ruin another woman’s life and dig his own hole in the world any deeper by repeating his mistakes.

      By the time he got the impetus to follow the paramedics down the hall, they had disappeared into a trauma room. While he was struggling with the fact that Jessie was back in Grand Springs and he hadn’t known it, never mind how she had come to be covered in blood, another altercation began to take place between two sets of desperate parents who were vying for a doctor’s attention. He moved toward them with fixed intent.

      * * *

      Jessica didn’t remember the ride to the hospital, or of being wheeled into ER amid a flurry of shouts and activity. When she did begin to come around, she opened her eyes and screamed, reacting instinctively to the sight of a portable X-ray machine being lowered into place above her. Someone grabbed at her hands, then spoke. The woman’s voice was calm, the tone reassuring.

      “Take it easy, dear. You’re in a hospital.”

      Jessica shuddered and moaned, then tried to relax, unaware that she was already crying. From the other side of the curtain, a child began to shriek, and in the opposite corner of the room Jessica could hear someone groaning. Pain shattered her cognizance.

      Hospital? Why am I in a hospital?

      Minutes passed, but to Jessica, they could have been hours. Perspective and time had no meaning. There was only the pain and confusion holding her fast to the bed.

      Sometime later, she woke up again to find herself on a gurney in a hallway. Disoriented by painkillers and a headache of mammoth proportions, she knew little about what was going on around her until someone touched her arm.

      “Take it easy, Jessie. You’re going to be all right.”

      Jessica blinked and then groaned. That voice and those wide, imposing shoulders were all too familiar. She looked up into stormy gray eyes and let her gaze wander to that stubborn square jaw before she looked away.

      Stone knew she had no idea he had followed her as she’d been moved from the trauma room, or that she’d been parked in the hallway, waiting to be taken upstairs. She also had no way of knowing, nor did Stone think she would have believed, that he’d refused to budge from her side until someone came to get her.

      “Bat barf,” she muttered, and missed seeing his grin.

      If it hadn’t hurt so bad, Jessica would have glared.

      “I’m bleeding,” she muttered inanely, and reached toward her head.

      Stone’s expression gentled as he caught her hand. “Not anymore, Jessie. You’re going to be all right.”

      “Not in this lifetime,” she muttered.

      Stone frowned but didn’t have time to answer, as the long-awaited orderly finally appeared, moving Stone aside as he grabbed at the foot of Jessica’s bed.

      “Sorry, sir, but they’re admitting her. You can see her tomorrow during visiting hours.”

      Stone turned Jessie’s hand loose and felt a sense of panic as the orderly wheeled her away. The need to say something more was choking him, but all he could manage was, “Hey, honey, take care of yourself, okay?”

      Jessica felt him patting her knee as she was wheeled away.

      “I am not your ‘honey,’” she mumbled, before falling back asleep.

      * * *

      Someone yanked at the sheet beneath Jessica’s right leg and then rolled her onto her side. With an audible groan, she opened her eyes and grabbed for the bed rail. A pair of nurses-in-training were changing the linens on her bed.

      “We’re sorry, Miss Hanson, but this won’t take long, and you’ll feel so much better with clean sheets on your bed.”

      Jessica looked at the name tags on their uniforms, then gritted her teeth and hung on. She could have used a painkiller, and she was fairly certain that the clean sheets A. Wren and S. Dexter were determined to give her wouldn’t do a thing for the throb in her temples.

      Wren rattled the ice in Jessica’s pitcher and then set it down, satisfied that there was an ample supply.

      “Isn’t that a shame about Mrs. Stuart,” she said.

      Jessica’s heart kicked out of rhythm as Dexter tucked the corners of her sheet tightly into place. Memory was coming back in swift and sudden flashes. Olivia had been attacked right in front of her eyes! Guilt flooded her conscience. How could she have been so crass as to forget such a thing?

      Dexter nodded. “It’s so sad for her son, Hal, too. Imagine having your own mother suffer a heart attack on the day of your wedding!”

      Jessica frowned. They had it all wrong. It wasn’t a heart attack. Someone had stabbed Olivia. She’d seen it happen. She touched Wren’s arm and started to argue.

      “But, I saw…”

      Wren, not to be outdone, patted Jessica’s arm


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