THREE

      Audrey tugged at the wet material clinging to her skin and grimaced. Her foot had gotten caught on the hospital bed wheel, and she’d stumbled, spilling apple juice down her front. If it had been water, she would’ve let it air-dry. But the juice would start to smell foul. And it was sticky.

      She headed for the door. “I’m going to get a new set of scrubs from supply.”

      Veronica, who’d hovered like a thundercloud since the incident, looked up from her handheld device. Her garish red lips formed a disgruntled slash. “Hurry up.” She tilted her head at the unoccupied beds. “Our ten o’clock knee replacement is almost done.”

      In the hallway, she removed her cap and tucked it in her pocket. She readjusted the band holding her hair in place as she navigated the brightly lit hall. A security guard passed and nodded in greeting. There hadn’t been any more problems with her patients, for which she was grateful. Almost losing Julian had rattled her. He didn’t play a role in her life, but there was something about the stoic marine that touched a chord inside. Maybe it was the fact he’d ignored his own safety to pull the others out of that wrecked helicopter.

      His striking looks had nothing to do with it, she reassured herself. Neither did his brooding demeanor or the loneliness and grief he tried to hide from the world.

      Pushing thoughts of the sergeant from her mind, she left the surgical unit, passed through the central lobby area and entered a stairwell that would take her down to the basement level. Their unit’s supply room had run out of space months ago. Until they could rearrange stock or create more storage, overflow was located in a secondary area that didn’t see much traffic.

      Muted orange-yellow light spilled down the concrete stairs, drawing attention to gouges in the cement walls and the stair rail’s peeling paint. At the bottom, she shouldered open the heavy door. A vinegary odor emanating from the basement labs greeted her in the narrow hallway. She didn’t pass a single person as she followed the worn, cracked tiles to the room at the end. Inside, she flipped the switch. Only about half of the overhead lights flickered on, leaving much of the high shelving systems in shadow.

      “Great,” she muttered. With no windows to admit natural light, it was going to take time to dig through the scrubs to find her size.

      She wove through the network of short aisles to reach the rear wall. Rounding the last section, Audrey nearly jumped out of her skin when a loud crash clattered right behind her. Her hand pressed to her thrumming heart, she pivoted and saw that her foot had dislodged a mop propped against the wall. Crouching down, she grabbed the wooden handle off the hard tiles and set it right again.

      Another sound reached her, then...the grinding of sand beneath a rubber shoe sole.

      The hair on her arms stood at attention. Audrey did a complete turn in the tight passage, between wooden shelves and a painted block wall.

      “Hello?”

      The thought of the person who’d invaded the recovery room flashed in her mind. Had the thief decided his current methods weren’t working? After all, she hadn’t quit. Hadn’t been fired. Hadn’t remained silent.

      Had he switched targets?

      Audrey remained frozen for long minutes, her ears straining for out-of-place clues that she wasn’t alone. There was nothing. Hurrying to the stacks, she sorted through shirts and pants for her size, too distracted to worry about tidying up after herself.

      “There. Done.”

      A presence registered behind her before she could turn around to leave. Measured breathing. The rustle of clothing.

      Adrenaline charged through her system too late. Something hard and unyielding came up and over her head and pressed against her throat, cutting off her air supply. Silencing her.

      The scrubs slipped from her fingers. Reaching up, she gripped the stick. Can’t breathe.

      She couldn’t dislodge it. He was immovable, her captor, his arms and chest forming a vise around her.

      Dots danced in her vision. She struggled. Writhed. Kicked. Her lungs stretched to the bursting point.

      Audrey reached up to claw at his face. If she could gouge his eyes—

      He increased the pressure. Pain was a scream lodged in her throat.

      As consciousness ebbed, thoughts of her dad filled her with sadness. The loss of Audrey’s mother had almost destroyed him. What would burying his only child do?

      Her body was growing limp. She was out of time.

      A tear dripped down her cheek.

      Shouts pierced the black cloud. Suddenly, the arms around her went slack. He let the mop fall and spun away from her.

      Audrey swayed and fell to her knees. A scuffle ensued between her attacker and would-be rescuer. In the murky light, she recognized the stark white dressing on the second man’s arm.

      “Julian,” she gasped.

      He shouldn’t be here. Shouldn’t be confronting an attacker in his condition, most likely the same man who tried to kill him mere days ago.

      Julian blocked the other man’s fist with his good arm, and then used his leg to land a forceful kick to his opponent’s gut. When the man’s body glanced off the shelf, Julian tackled him. The pair hit the floor in a blur of blows and deflections, their grunts loud in her ears.

      Her attacker was clad in black. A ski mask obscured his face. His greater bulk made him a fearsome foe. However, he was less agile than the marine. Julian quickly gained control of the situation. He pinned the man on his stomach and wedged his knee against his spine.

      After removing a pistol tucked beneath the man’s suitcoat, he cast a searching glance in her direction. “You okay?”

      Audrey belatedly realized she was still on the floor. She pushed to her feet and prayed her legs would hold her.

      “I’m good.” Her throat ached, and her head throbbed with the stirrings of a headache, but she was alive. Thanks to him.

      Her relief was short-lived. In a burst of energy, her attacker leveraged himself up, slamming his head into Julian’s. His beefy arm swung wildly and connected with Julian’s cheek. The double blows dazed him long enough for the masked man to get up and flee.

      * * *

      Julian’s gaze kept returning to the angry welts that