Broken Hero Page 14

  “Yeah, I guess so,” she says. “I’m just scared. And frustrated. And pissed off. I can’t remember a thing about myself or my life. Whenever I try to recall what I do for a living, where I grew up, or if I’m married, I just keep coming up empty.”

  “I know this has to be frustrating for you,” I say. “But, maybe, once we get you all checked out, they can tell us more about getting your memories back.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” she says, her tone entirely skeptical. “Unless the cartel kills me first.”

  I take her hand and give it a gentle squeeze. “It’s going to be okay,” I say. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “Thanks, but if half of what you’ve told me about this cartel is true, I don’t know that there’s anything you can do to save me.”

  “I’m going to protect you, Isla,” I say, my voice firm. “They aren’t going to get within a country mile of you. I promise you.”

  I look down at our hands and feel a surge of electricity flow through me. Medina is walking toward us with a medic, wheeling a gurney between them, but I'm loathed to let go of Isla’s hand. She gives me a warm smile, and I can tell she’s feeling the same. I clear my throat and force myself to take a step back.

  “I guess your chariot is here,” I say.

  “Looks like it.”

  “You ready?” I ask.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Isla

  “Okay, just lay back,” Medina instructs. “Be still and pretend to be dead.”

  I lay back on the gurney and let Medina pull the sheet up over my head. With my stomach churning, the medic wheels the gurney across the parking lot.

  “Just stay calm,” Baker says, the deep rumbling of his voice bringing me comfort.

  I don’t know this man from a hole in the ground, and yet somehow, for reasons I don’t understand, I feel comfortable around him. He makes me feel safe. Maybe, my brain is all screwed up from the accident or something; I don’t know. All I do know is that I may not know my own name at this point, but for some reason, I know I can trust Baker. If he tells me things are going to be okay, I want to believe him. It’s irrational as hell, but it’s true, all the same.

  From beneath the sheet, I hear the pneumatic whoosh of the rear doors opening. That’s followed by the sound of voices on the overhead speakers paging doctors to different departments, among other pages being called out by the hospital staff. All I can see through the sheet are vague shapes and the overhead lights as they wheel me down the hallway. The odor is antiseptic and sterile – it’s an odor I’ve always hated.

  “Almost there,” Medina whispers.

  I hear a beeping noise that sounds like buttons being pushed on an electronic keypad. A moment later, there is a soft chime, followed by a loud click as the door is opened. The gurney is wheeled into a room, and I hear the door behind me closing, the electronic lock clicking into place.

  “Okay, we’re clear,” Medina says.

  I pull the sheet off my head and sit up. I’m alone in the room full of medical equipment with Medina and Baker. There’s a nervous flutter in my belly as I look at Baker and my heart stutters in my chest. I feel a sort of primal energy flowing through me when I look at the man that I find entirely disconcerting.

  Disconcerting, yet not entirely unpleasant or unwelcome.

  “Doctor Walker will be here in just a couple of minutes,” Medina informs us. “He’s going to do a CAT scan and run some other tests on you to make sure you’re doing okay and that there’s nothing that needs further attention. And best of all, he’s discreet.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Baker says.

  She nods and gives him a smile. “Of course,” she says. “I’m just glad you’re allowing her to be checked out. I’ll feel a lot better knowing she’s officially been given a clean bill of health.”

  “That’ll make two of us,” Baker says.

  “Three of us, actually,” I chime in.

  The three of us share an awkward, slightly uncomfortable laugh, but it breaks the tension in the room a little bit. The door chimes then opens, and a tall, thin black man walks in. His smile is warm and engaging, and his eyes are friendly.

  “Adam,” Medina says. “Good to see you again.”

  The man embraces Medina warmly. “Nice to see you again too, Heather.”

  Medina motions to us. “This is Baker Redmond, and your patient, Isla Nelson,” she says.

  “I have to say, this cloak and dagger stuff is a bit unusual,” he comments.

  “I apologize for this,” Baker answers. “I can’t give you specifics, but all you need to know is that I’m attached to the U.S. Marshals, and there is a reason – and a need – for the secrecy.”

  Walker shrugs. “It’s okay,” he says and laughs. “Makes things interesting, if nothing else. Adds a little spice to the day.”

  “Are you good, Adam?” Medina asks.

  He nods. “All good here. I’ll do a full workup, and we’ll see what we see.”

  “Great. Again, thank you for doing this,” Medina tells him.

  He nods. “Of course. My pleasure,” he says. “But I am going to need you both to clear out of here so I can get down to it.”

  Medina smiles. “I should get back to my office,” she tells us. “I’ve got my own patients to see.”

  “And, I guess I’ll be out in the waiting room,” Baker says. “Let me know when you’re done so I can smuggle her back out of here.”

  I watch as Baker and Medina leave the room, the door shutting behind them. I’m alone with Doctor Walker, who looks at me with mild curiosity on his face. I know he wants to ask me why I’m under the protection of the Marshals. In his place, I’d probably want to know. It seems like such an odd thing – to be in witness protection. It seems like something straight out of a mob movie or something.

  I’m living it and it doesn’t seem real.

  “So, are you in any pain?” Walker asks.

  I shrug. “A little,” I offer. “It’s getting better with every day that passes though. It doesn’t hurt to just think about moving anymore, at least. That’s something, I guess.”

  “From what I understand, you’re more than lucky to even be sitting here talking to me,” he says.

  “That’s my understanding too.”

  “And your memory – have you even had a flash of anything?” he asks. “Anything at all?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing,” I reply, that familiar frustration bubbling up inside of me. “It’s like, I don’t have a past at all. Like it’s been totally and completely erased or something.”

  “Well, let’s see if we can figure out where those memories of yours are locked up,” he says. “The first thing I want to do is run a CAT scan on you. I just want to make sure everything is okay with that brain of yours.”

  Walker helps me over to the table that leads into the machine that’s going to scan my head. A chill passes through me as a memory tickles the back of my mind that makes me shudder.

  “What is it?” he asks. “Did you remember something?”

  “I just seem to recall that I don’t like being in enclosed spaces.”

  “A perfectly normal and natural fear,” he says. “There’s nothing to be afraid of though. Trust me. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  I nod and feel slightly reassured, though not quite as comfortable or at ease as I do around Baker.

  “Go ahead and lie back,” he instructs. “Try to relax.”

  Easier said than done. But I do as he asks and lie down, trying to avoid thinking about the fact that I’m about to be slid into a small tube, and have all kinds of electronic waves shot into my brain. The table I’m on slides into the tube with a mechanical whirring sound. A moment later, it stops and locks itself into place. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  “Just try to relax, Isla,” he says, his voice coming through speakers in the machine.

  “This won’t take all that lo
ng.”

  As I lay there, I try to think about anything other than where I’m currently stuck. Without the usual iron grip of control I keep on my thoughts, my brain immediately turns to Baker. My reaction to him is so primal, and so visceral, that it consumes me, driving out all rational thought. He’s a physically beautiful man – the tall, dark, and handsome man straight out of cliché. The man is rugged, wild, and exudes an energy that connects with me on so many levels.

  In some ways, it feels like I know the man, though I believe him when he says we’ve never met. He strikes me as a man of integrity and honor. Baker seems like the kind of man who can be trusted to tell the truth in any situation and a man who does not sugarcoat things. I just have a gut feeling that I can trust whatever comes out of his mouth and know that he will do whatever it takes to protect me.

  It’s such a strange feeling and such a strange certainty to have when nothing in my life is certain at this point. I don’t even know if there is somebody else in my life right now. For all I know, I’m married and have a dozen children. Whenever that thought crosses my mind though, it just feels wrong. It feels like a life that doesn’t belong to me.

  And I can’t deny that there is just this spark that I feel whenever I look into Baker’s eyes – this spark that lights me up inside and fills me with a pool of emotion that’s nearly overwhelming. And that feeling brings me a sense of peace and calm I haven’t felt since I first woke up in Baker’s home.

  I do my best to push away all of the anxiety though and focus on the here and now – letting my thoughts linger on Baker. As I imagine those smoldering eyes and warm smile in that rugged, bearded, and beautiful face, I feel that that primal energy flowing through me again, and feel a smile touching my lips.

  Baker

  I stalk around the hospital’s hallways, my nerves on edge. I don’t like having Isla out in public like this, but I know that Medina is right – she needs to be checked out. We need to make sure there isn’t anything lurking around inside of her that could wind up killing her. I need to protect her not just from the cartel, but from internal threats as well.

  The plan is good. We got her in unseen, I think. And hopefully, our luck holds when it comes time to get her out. I leave the cafeteria with a cup of garbage coffee in my hand. At least it’s warm and filled with caffeine. That counts for something, I suppose.

  As I stroll down the hallway, heading back to the room Isla is in, her face fills my mind again. I don’t know this woman, other than what I read in Walt’s file about her. And yet, in some ways, it feels like I know everything about her. In a way. There is some sort of a connection, or a bond that I feel for her that goes well beyond the conventional protector-protectee relationship.

  I have no idea how to define it, or what to call it, let alone where it came from, but there is something solid, something tangible between us. I felt it the moment our hands met in the truck outside. I felt the jolt between us, and I know she felt it too. We shared that moment, and it opened a door between us.

  It also solidified in my own mind, the idea that this is a job I cannot screw up. It’s a job I will not screw up. I will do whatever I have to do – whatever it takes – to keep Isla safe.

  As I round the corner, I stop in my tracks, a surge of cold fire rolling through my veins. Standing at the reception desk are two men I know don’t belong in Grizzly Ridge. One is tall and muscular; the other is shorter and rounder. Both have dark hair that’s slicked back, are sporting goatees, have dark complexions, and are wearing well-tailored suits.

  Strangers in Grizzly Ridge stand out like sore thumbs, and these two are standing out harder than most. Zavala’s men. They have to be. This town isn’t the kind of place that usually attracts guys who look like they just stepped out of central casting for a mafia flick. They’re leaning over the reception desk, talking to one of the nurses. Actually, it looks more like they’re trying to intimidate her.

  They’re no doubt trying to get information about whether or not Isla has been admitted. The nurse will obviously have no knowledge of Isla even being in the building. But I see those two clowns pressing her. I see the look of fear on her face. Their scare tactics are obviously working, and I feel awful for her. But I have to do what I have to do to protect my charge – to protect Isla.

  Still, the nurse looks to be on the verge of a heart attack as these two assholes are no doubt threatening her – and probably her family for good measure. That’s just how these assholes roll. Still, I can’t just stand by and let them intimidate and abuse this woman, innocent of everything, who’s just doing her job.

  As I step behind the men, the nurse’s eyes fall on me. They’re wide, wild, and are searching for any sign of hope – or help.

  “Check again,” says the shorter one of the two men.

  “Sir, I’ve checked three times already,” she says. “There is nobody named Mia Lynch or Isla Nelson checked in as a patient here.”

  “I told you to check again,” he snaps.

  “Three times is enough,” I interject. “If she says the people you’re looking for aren’t registered as patients, they’re not here. Now, time to move along. The rest of us are looking for people too.”

  The two men turn around, their eyes narrowed, their jaws clenched. They both look me up and down and though the smaller man’s eyes widen, the larger of the two looks completely unmoved. He’s about as tall as me, but I have about fifty pounds on him. Plus, I guarantee he’s not had the type of training I’ve had. I’m quite sure I can wipe the floor with both of them.

  “Who the fuck are you?” asks the smaller man.

  “Somebody you don’t want to fuck with,” I reply.

  “Walk away,” he orders. “Now. This don’t concern you.”

  “Seems clear to me that you’re making this woman uncomfortable,” I say. “Which means you need to go.”

  The smaller man steps forward, standing within inches of me. I’ve got about six inches on the guy, so he has to look up at me. I stare down at him, unable to keep the grin off my face. With the attention taken off of her, the nurse quickly hops on the phone.

  “Really?” I ask.

  The larger man clears this throat to get my attention, but when I look up at him, I can see the hesitance in his eyes. He’ll fight me if the shorter man tells him to, but I can see that he clearly doesn’t want to tangle with me – which is a wise choice.

  “Walk away, puto,” he hisses. “Or you’re gonna regret it. I ain’t gonna tell you again.”

  “I think you two should leave,” I repeat. “Whoever it is you’re looking for obviously isn’t here.”

  “We’ll leave when we’re ready to leave,” he says.

  “You’re ready now,” I growl, my voice low and menacing.

  The larger man moves to my left, looking like he’s preparing himself for the inevitable confrontation.

  “Believe me, you really don’t want to do this,” I tell them.

  For the first time, I see a look of uncertainty in the shorter man’s eyes. It’s a brief flash, but it’s there all the same. The man can certainly put up a wall of bravado and bluster; there’s no question about that. He’s got that machismo, a lot of these cartel guys put out there. I can see though, that deep down, underneath it all, he’s scared. I have no doubt believing that if he didn’t have his muscle with him, he wouldn’t feel comfortable popping off like this.

  I know I shouldn’t be drawing attention to myself like this. I shouldn’t have stepped in. Not with Isla in the building. But I couldn’t let them continue to harangue and badger this poor woman. I couldn’t stand idly by and let them threaten her, making her feel unsafe. If there’s one thing I can’t abide, it’s men who abuse women.

  We stand there for a few moments, staring each other down. The air is thick with tension, and even people passing by, slow down to stare at us.

  “You two need to go,” the nurse speaks up. “I called the cops. They’ll be here any minute.”

  The sho
rter man turns and looks at her, his expression filled with rage. “You fucked up, bitch,” he bellows. “Do you know who I am? I’ll fucking kill –”

  I move faster than the big man expects. I have his boss in a headlock and am squeezing his throat tight before the larger man even reacts. The shorter man is gasping and sputtering in my grip. I look at the larger man and shake my head. He seems to understand the situation and backs off a step.

  “It’s time for you to go,” I growl. “Are we understood?”

  The smaller man sputters, and the larger man nods. I give the man in my grip an extra squeeze, making him choke and cough. His face is turning red, his eyes are wide, and he looks like he’s honestly afraid that he’s about to die.

  As quickly as I’d snatched him up, I release the man and give him a push that sends him sprawling to the ground. He looks up at me with pure hatred on his face, as the larger man helps him back to his feet.

  “You really don’t know who you’re fuckin’ with here, cabron,” the smaller man says once he’s on his feet and has composed himself a bit. That mistake you just made right there? That’s gonna be fatal for you, bitch.”

  “Yeah, okay,” I reply. “That’s fine.”

  “Fatal,” he repeats.

  “Yeah, you said that already,” I say. “Time for you two to go. Now.”

  The larger man puts his hand on the other guy’s shoulder, guiding him away from me. I watch them as they walk together toward the front doors, the smaller man turning to glare daggers at me. If looks could kill, I’d be dead ten times over. They walk out just as Sheriff Pinkman and one of his deputies walk in. They eye the two cartel men as they walk in but proceed toward the nurse’s station.

  “Thank you,” the nurse says.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I tell her, giving her a meaningful look. “Nothing at all. Understand?”

  She nods, and I turn, walking away as quickly as I can without making it look like I’m fleeing the scene. I turn down the nearest hallway I come across, sneaking a look back. Pinkman and his deputy are standing there, talking to the nurse, none of them even looking my way. Thankfully, the nurse seems to be keeping my confidence. I walk down the hallway and find my way to a waiting room near the room Isla is in. I take a seat near the rear of the room. It’s a chair that allows me to keep my back to the wall and keep an eye on the whole room. With confirmation that the cartel is here and is looking for Isla, I really need to watch my step.