Falling for the ice quee.., p.22
Falling For the Ice Queen, page 22
Memphis wanted to tell her not to worry. He’d been shot before. He’d be fine. She needed to focus on herself. Because this…this was just another attempt to get her away from him.
That couldn’t happen. He couldn’t be taken from Eliza. Eliza couldn’t be taken from him.
Memphis tried to reach for her hand.
And he passed out.
***
A blaze of lights flashed outside of her building. Eliza rushed after the EMTs who were pushing the gurney—the gurney that held an unconscious and blood-soaked Memphis.
This can’t be happening. It can’t be happening. They’d been talking. She’d just told him that she loved him—
And his blood was all over her hands. His blood had pumped through her fingertips as she fought to save him.
The EMTs carefully loaded him into the back of the nearby ambulance. She raced to get in that ambulance with him—
“You’re not leaving.” Daniel manacled his hand around her wrist. “No, hell, no, Eliza.”
She yanked as hard as she could. “Memphis needs me!”
“He needs a freaking doctor, that’s what he needs! You aren’t going with him. Dammit, I’m taking you into protective custody.”
Memphis was inside the ambulance. His hand fell down, and she could see blood—
Pain burned through her. “I want to be with him!”
Saint burst to her side. “What in the hell is happening here?” He glared at the detective. “Get your fucking hand off her!”
“I’m a detective, you don’t tell me—”
Saint went toe-to-toe with him. “Hands off Memphis’s lady. Now. If she wants to go with him, she’s going. She’s—”
“She’s the reason your friend is in that ambulance,” Daniel gritted back at him. “Haven’t you figured that out? Eliza told the perp that she knew who he was, so he took those shots. He did it so she would never have the chance to tell me and the other cops what she’d remembered. He was trying to silence her, but instead, your friend got hit. Memphis was caught in the crossfire. Those bullets were meant for her. Not him. Another attempt could come on her life. She is not going into that hospital where I can’t control the environment.”
The ambulance’s siren wailed. It was going to leave—
Memphis would be alone. Someone had to stay with him. Someone had to watch over him.
“She’s in protective custody. Want to fight me on this? I’ll arrest your ass,” Daniel threatened.
Saint looked more than ready to—
“Get in the ambulance with Memphis!” Eliza cried.
His head whipped toward her. “What?”
“You’re family. His brother—”
“He told you?”
“You can go with him. You can make any medical decisions that need to be done—and you do it and you make sure they keep him alive!” She glared at him. “Don’t you let me down, Saint. Take care of him! Protect him!”
“He won’t like it—he’ll want me to stay with you—”
“The ambulance is leaving! Go!”
Swearing, he whirled and ran to the ambulance. He jumped in the back.
Her shoulders sagged. Memphis isn’t alone. Saint will watch him. It’s okay.
“They’re brothers?”
She didn’t look at Daniel. She watched the lights from the ambulance fade as it raced away.
“Eliza, Memphis is in good hands. The doctors will take care of him.” Daniel’s voice was stilted. “And I’m sorry, but you have to come with me.”
He led her toward a patrol car.
Wait, a patrol car?
“Get in the back,” he ordered.
He wasn’t serious.
“You’ll be safe in the back. I’ll have a uniform keep an eye on you. I need to talk to Camila, let her know what’s happening. I’ll only be gone a few moments, then I’ll come back and take you to a safe house.”
This was not happening.
“I don’t trust you not to run,” he told her flatly. “So I have to keep you secured.”
Her heart raced too fast. She looked around, wanting help—
A uniformed officer rushed toward them. Eliza opened her mouth.
“Put her in the back of your patrol car, Officer Bishop. She is not to leave until I return, understand? She’s in protective custody.”
“Is this even how protective custody works?” Eliza demanded. “You can’t just lock me up! My lawyers will—”
“They can rip me a new one, later.” Daniel wasn’t concerned. “But you’ll still be alive, and maybe instead of being pissed, you and your lawyers will realize that you should be grateful to me.”
Moments later, she was in the back of the patrol car. Officer Bishop stood on the other side of the door. Dozens of cops were swarming the area. Everything seemed crazy and…
The blood had dried on her fingertips.
Memphis. There had been shock on his face after the first bullet hit him. Shock and rage and…fear. But she didn’t think he’d been afraid for himself.
For me. He’d wanted her to get his gun. To protect herself.
She didn’t have any weapons. Didn’t have her bag or a taser or even a phone. She was trapped in the back of a patrol car. Memphis could be dying, and she wasn’t with him.
Fuck. This.
Some of the cold—the numbing shock—that she’d experienced as the ambulance fled began to melt away. She turned toward the door. Banged on the window to get Officer Bishop’s attention—
But as she watched, he ran away, pulling out his radio and motioning toward a group of reporters who’d just arrived. Even in the dark, she could see their cameras. Even in the—
A knock sounded nearby. Knuckles tapping at the window on the other side of the car. Eliza jerked around. She squinted and slid across the backseat to get toward that window.
Knuckles tapped again.
And—
“Eliza?” Bethany asked her, voice shocked. “Why are you in the back of a patrol car?”
Bethany. Relief had her head spinning. “Open the door!” she cried.
“What?” Bethany’s face pressed closer to the glass. “Can’t quite hear you.”
She slammed her hand onto the glass of the window. “Open the door!” Because she couldn’t open it from the inside. Bethany had to know that—
“Oh.” Bethany looked down. Then back up. “You haven’t like…killed anyone or anything, have you?”
“Open the door!”
Bethany grabbed the handle. Opened the door. As it swung open, she said, “Is it supposed to just open like that? I mean, don’t cops lock it or—”
Eliza sprang out of the car and grabbed her.
“OhmyGod!” Bethany shuddered. “There is blood on your hands. I specifically asked if you had killed anyone.”
“I didn’t! Someone shot Memphis!”
“Memphis? Who is—”
Eliza crouched and looked back. Officer Bishop would return to the car or Daniel could come bounding up at any moment. Memphis hadn’t trusted Daniel. Saint had said that Daniel hadn’t fired those shots, but Eliza didn’t know what to believe or who to trust.
No. I do know who to trust. I always knew. Memphis. “I have to get to the hospital. Please, Bethany, take me to the hospital.”
“Okay, okay…my car is just around the corner. Come on.”
They pretty much raced to her red Benz. Bethany hit the key fob, the lights flashed, and the doors unlocked. Eliza dove inside. Bethany took the driver seat and slammed her door. She cranked the engine and glanced into her rearview mirror. “Are the cops going to follow us?”
“Not if you move fast, they won’t!”
Bethany shoved her foot down on the gas pedal, and they flew away from the curb. “My God, Eliza!” she breathed. “What is happening? I texted you like a dozen times in the last few hours, and you just ignored me. Then I see that segment online about you remembering what happened all those years ago…”
Eliza glanced back. No sign of the cops. “Remember the guy from the bar the other night, the one you dared me to—”
“The bodyguard?” Bethany cut in.
“No, he’s not a bodyguard. He’s…he’s Memphis. He’s been helping me to track the perp who took me.”
“And…you remember?” Careful. Cautious. She kept driving fast.
“Which hospital is the closest?” Eliza tried to figure things out. “I think it’s Providence. We need to turn at the next right.”
“Who took you, Eliza?”
“Memphis was shot tonight. Right in front of me. I-I can’t stop shaking. I love him, Bethany. I love him and—” And they had driven straight. Not taken the next right. “You missed the turn. It’s okay. Just take the next—”
“You don’t remember a damn thing, do you?”
Her head whipped toward Bethany. “Why are you slowing down?” They were stopping.
Bethany sighed. She reached into her bag. The bag that rested between the two front seats in the small console area. “Because I need to do this.” Her hand moved in a lightning-fast blur. She jabbed Eliza.
Eliza blinked. Stared down. Bethany had a syringe in her hand. “What…”
“Yes. That’s good.” She shoved the syringe back into her bag. “You’ll be out in less than a minute. Bet you’re already feeling it, aren’t you?” And once again, she shoved her foot down onto the gas. Shot them forward.
Shot them forward even as Eliza tried to grab for the door handle. But her fingers felt all uncoordinated. Stiff and hard.
“Oh, Eliza. You shouldn’t have lied. If you hadn’t lied, then we could have just kept going as we had been…”
Bethany just injected me. Bethany is…
“It was me, sweet friend. I’m the one who took you away all those years ago, and I’m the one who will make sure that this time, you vanish for good.”
She couldn’t touch the door. Couldn’t…
Couldn’t feel anything at all.
Chapter Twenty
“He’s dead.”
Eliza squinted. Groaned. Every muscle in her body hurt. As if she’d been beaten. But…
Her eyes flew open. She could smell hay. Dirt. Her breath came fast and hard, and she shuddered as—
“Yes, I know the news is tough. But the bullet wounds were fatal,” Bethany said as she stood just a few feet away.
Eliza was on the ground. Sprawled in the dirty hay. And her hands—both of them—were cuffed to a thick, metal bar.
“Made some improvements,” Bethany said.
OhmyGod, no.
“You can’t break that bar. Made of steel, and it’s cemented into the ground.” A lantern sat by Bethany’s feet. “You’re going to drift in and out for a while because of the drugs. That’s normal. Don’t worry. But I wanted to go ahead and tell you about, ah, Memphis, I believe his name was? I wanted to tell you about him because you seemed quite worried earlier.”
Memphis.
“He died in the ambulance. I saw the report on the news. He’s gone.” She crouched. Smiled. “Don’t worry. Soon, you will be, too.”
No, no, no. Memphis could not be dead. But Eliza felt tears streak down her cheeks. “Wh-why?” Her voice came out all distorted.
“Why will you be dead? Because I’m going to kill you, of course. Just like I killed all the others.”
Eliza shook her head. Dizziness nearly knocked her out.
“Do you know what a fucking Mary Jane is, Eliza?”
She could barely hear the words.
“You’re a Mary Jane. Every guy always falls at your feet, don’t they? You walk in, you look all delicate and sexy, and they want you. I hate Mary Janes. No one could see me when you were beside me. The fucking other night—when we were at the bar—it happened again. The first time in years. You had been like a ghost, so I didn’t mind you as much—you were barely there at all. But then you started your shit again the other night.”
“I…” Didn’t do anything…
“When you are next to me, they don’t see me.” She glared. “Now, they won’t see you.”
This wasn’t happening…it wasn’t.
“Didn’t even intend for all this. Want to know the truth?”
What she wanted…Memphis. To get away. To get to him. But he was…
Dead? No, no. Memphis can’t be dead. He can’t.
“I was paid to take you all those years ago,” Bethany revealed with a laugh. “Just a prank, you know but…” Laughter. “I liked it…”
Her head throbbed. Nausea rose, and Eliza thought she might vomit. She swallowed. Choked. But managed, “The other…women?”
“All just like you. Men flocked to them. They lit up fucking rooms. That first bitch—Amelia…”
It’s true. It’s true. She knows them…Eliza gagged.
“She looked just like me. We were at the same bar, but she was the one getting all the free drinks. She was the one getting all the attention. I was so over that shit. It just wasn’t going to happen again. It wasn’t. I went there to get away, it was the stupid anniversary, and I didn’t want to think about you—then she was there. Stealing the light just like you always did.”
Eliza shook her head. “No, no, I n-never meant…”
“She asked for a ride. Can you believe that? Just got in the car with me. I realized how easy it was. I knew just what to do…”
“Y-you…killed them all.”
“Um. And I’m going to kill you. But not yet.” She rose. Brushed hay off her jeans. “Got to go act all worried first. Get my face on TV. Get my alibi. I’ll be back though, don’t you worry.” She advanced on Eliza. “I want to be able to enjoy our time together. After all, it’s not every day that you say goodbye to your very best friend in the whole world.”
Something was in her hand.
“I learned from my mistakes,” Bethany said.
She jabbed Eliza again with a syringe. Cold seemed to pour through her veins.
“I don’t think that will kill you, but, it will sure as hell stop you from getting away.” Then she turned and picked up the lantern. Moved toward what looked like an old, wooden ladder. Climbed up. “Oh, you might have broken a few bones when I shoved you down here. I should apologize for that.”
What?
“But I won’t.” She climbed up the ladder. Took the light with her.
Eliza shivered. All she knew was the dark.
Memphis. He couldn’t be dead.
***
“Eliza!” Memphis roared.
“Restrain him!” A female voice. Not Eliza. “Restrain him now before the stitches tear again—”
“Get…Eliza…”
Someone grabbed his right arm. Then his left. Shoved him back as he yelled his fury and fear. He needed Eliza. He had to see Eliza. Where was—
“Eliza!”
“Sedate him. Now.”
***
“Hey.”
Memphis groaned. His eyes fluttered open.
“Hey, are you with me again? And are you gonna stay in control?”
Saint’s voice. It was Saint leaning toward him with a worried expression on his face and with his hair sticking up in about a dozen different directions.
Memphis squinted at him. “What are you…” Damn, his throat felt funny. Dry and achy. He—
Jerked. Tried to bolt upright.
Machines beeped and buzzed.
“You need to stay calm, Memphis.”
That wasn’t Saint talking. It was a feminine voice. Careful. Sad. His gaze jerked to the left. His friend Delilah stood there, with her husband Archer right behind her. “It’s hard, I know,” Delilah continued, and her eyes held heavy shadows beneath them. “But we have to take care of you first before…”
Before what?
But Delilah stopped talking. Archer put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. What was going on?
“Where…” He needed some water for his throat. “Eliza?” She should be in there. He wanted to see her.
“I’m sorry.” From Saint. “She…wanted me to get in the ambulance with you. There were cops everywhere, so I thought she’d be fine.”
The machines beeped faster. He pushed up.
Delilah rushed toward the bed. “Don’t tear your stitches!”
Someone else had told him that shit. He could vaguely remember the scene. Like he cared about his stitches. He only cared about Eliza. “Where is…” His voice was getting stronger. A good sign. “Eliza?”
Saint looked at Delilah—
“Where,” Memphis snapped.
Saint’s remorseful gaze swung back to him. “I don’t know.”
The door opened. Elijah Cross strode in. Elijah? He should have been in Florida. It looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Stubble covered his jaw. Shadows like Delilah’s lined his eyes and…
“How long was I out?” Memphis rasped.
Elijah positioned himself at the foot of the bed. “Too long.”
That wasn’t a real answer. They weren’t giving him real answers, and Eliza was not there. “I want Eliza.” After he saw her, he could figure out his next move.
Silence. Thick and heavy. As if they were all trying to decide which one would say—
“Eliza is missing,” Delilah told him. “She disappeared while you were on the way to the hospital.”
Memphis shook his head. “No.” That couldn’t be right.
“And…” Delilah’s voice held pain. Heartbreak. “You’ve been here for two days.”
Impossible. He would have known—
“They had to sedate you because every time you woke up, you tried to fight them and find Eliza. You tore open your stitches—”
He swung his feet to the side of the bed. Lunged up.
Would have fallen right on his face if Saint hadn’t grabbed him.
“I’m so sorry,” Saint whispered in his ear.
Memphis just shook his head. “No.” Two days. Two days? “Get me the fuck…out of here.”
***
“You need to be in the hospital!” Saint snapped at him. “Look, I get that you want to find her—”
“You don’t get a fucking thing.” He slammed the car door. Took a minute to brace himself because, dammit, he was weak. Too weak. His shoulder ached like a bitch, while his side burned. But there was no way he was sitting on the sidelines. Forty-eight hours had passed.
