Devastation consumed her.
“I warned you to play nice, you stupid whore.” He screamed obscenities at her as he lifted the scalpel and sliced her again. The pain stopped and she knew that was bad—knew that meant her time was almost up. She just hoped they caught this bastard before he could ever harm another person again.
As his arm lifted to administer the final blow, a gleam of victory in his eyes, his clear intent to go for her throat, a banging sound echoed off the ER walls.
Everything slowed down as she watched disbelief enter the man’s eyes for the briefest of moments, and then his arm dropped and he fell on top of her, pinning her to the bed beneath his lifeless body.
The next few minutes were a blur as his weight was lifted and a torrent of activity overtook the room. Lindsey knew if she did make it through the night, her life would never be the same again. She came in and out of consciousness as she was lifted, her clothes removed, a needle painfully stuck in her arm—and then the lights went out.
CHAPTER ONE
Sitting in the corner of the pew, Lindsey kept her large bag beside her so no one would sit too close. Even with that layer of protection, her body was pressed uncomfortably hard into the wall as she stared straight ahead, not wanting to make eye contact—not wanting anyone to speak to her.
She hadn’t told anyone she was coming to the funeral of Doctor Ted Stamos, but she couldn’t miss it even though her injuries weren’t remotely close to being healed.
It had been only a week since the stabbing, since the moment she’d nearly lost her life. The doctor had told Lindsey she was lucky she’d been assaulted in a hospital; otherwise, there wouldn’t have been time to stop the bleeding.
Rubbing her fingers beneath her silk shirt, she felt the bandages on her lower abdomen and grimaced. Lucky wouldn’t exactly be the word she would use.
Lucky wouldn’t be a word she would ever use again. Luck had nothing to do with her coming out of that horrible event while two colleagues, two friends, had died. It had been the timing of the police force. But if she’d made a call when she’d initially had the bad feeling, then today she might be sitting around the cafeteria table sharing a laugh with the charismatic doctor instead of sitting in a church, crushed against a wall, while she fought back tears as people said their final good-byes.
Clenching her fingers into a tight fist, Lindsey took shallow breaths as she tried to tell herself she was safe. Her side ached where she’d been stitched back together, and her head throbbed because she’d refused to take her pain meds on this particular day.
Lindsey wanted to feel the pain of survival. She wanted the reminder that she’d lived while two other good people had died. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair. But even so, she didn’t want to be dead either. She was just dealing with some major survivor’s guilt.
The temperature in the room seemed to suddenly heat up, and there was a shift in the air that Lindsey couldn’t possibly explain. But without turning her head, she knew who was next to her, knew who would dare sit so close when everything about her screamed that she wanted to be left alone.
She said nothing, her body ramrod straight, her shoulder aching as she pushed it even harder against the wall as she tried to move farther away. She was barely able to hold herself together, and this wouldn’t help her at all.
Her shallow breaths became tiny little pants as her vision blurred, little black dots sparking in front of her. If she didn’t pull it together fast, she was going to pass out. That was the last thing she wanted. Who knew what would happen?
“You need to breathe, Lindsey.”
His low voice was meant to be soothing, but his words only made her panic escalate. She bit her lip, and instead of taking a much-needed deep breath, she stopped breathing altogether, and those flashing black dots became larger as her head began spinning.
“Seriously, you have to breathe,” Maverick told her.
She felt his fingers settle against her leg and a small squeak escaped her tight throat as she felt darkness trying to pull her under. Before she sank into the abyss, though, Maverick’s strong fingers were gripping her shoulders, turning her toward him, and shaking her.
The motion caused her to take in a deep breath and her gaze unintentionally locked on his worried eyes. The spots that had been dancing in front of her cleared, and she couldn’t turn away.
He said nothing else as he waited for her to process what was going on. The worry she saw in him helped clear up her muddled brain. Still, it took a few more moments before she was able to open her lips.
“Don’t touch me,” she said, her words a harsh whisper.
“You need to be touched, Lindsey. You’re falling apart,” he told her.
The words weren’t said cruelly, more matter-of-factly, but that didn’t stop the wince she felt through her entire body.
“You know nothing about me, Maverick. Just because the two of us had one night together at my best friend’s wedding doesn’t give you the right to try and analyze me.”
She needed to get away from this man and get away fast. She was falling apart. Coming to the funeral had been a mistake.
“This has nothing to do with our night together,” he said, his eyes narrowing the tiniest bit. He obviously hadn’t liked that comment.
“I just want to be left alone,” she told him. She needed to go, but she was trapped between the wall and Maverick.
Twisting her head, she looked behind her. No one was there. She was in the last row of seats. She could vault over it and run through the doors, probably without anyone even noticing.
“That’s what you keep telling everyone, Lins, but I think remaining alone is the worst thing you can possibly do,” he said, his fingers moving against her shoulders in what she assumed he thought was a comforting gesture. It was anything but.
“I needed to say good-bye to Ted. But I’ve done that. I want to go now. Please let me leave,” she said, hating her pleading tone.
Surprisingly, Maverick let her go, but he didn’t scoot away.
“He was a friend of mine too. But I came here to find you since you’ve refused to see me. I want to help you, Lins.”
The sincerity in his voice couldn’t possibly be faked. She wouldn’t claim to know this man, not after only a single night—a very passionate night, but still, only a single night with him.
It was just too complicated. Even before the attack, it had been too complicated. Now it was impossible. Lindsey was broken. She knew she would never be the same again. And being around Maverick, who had more energy and life flowing through him than anyone else she’d ever met, hurt her so much more than the stab wounds that had been inflicted upon her body.
“There is no helping me,” she told him, quiet resignation in her tone.
He winced as if her words were causing him physical pain.
Lindsey couldn’t sit there and keep talking to him. She decided to make a break for it. Grabbing her purse, she stood up, her head going a little light again at the speed with which she did it. But before she could launch herself over the back of the pew, Maverick was standing next to her, his hand once again gripping her arm.
“I’ll walk you out.”
He didn’t let go. He led her from the church just as the organ music began to let the patrons know the funeral was about to start. Maverick said nothing as they exited the giant doorway and then moved to the parking lot.