Chapter 16

16

No hospitals.

She'd insisted. Richard would have eyes and ears in all the hospitals in the area. But Caleb had been equally insistent. She would have an X-ray.

He pulled into a gravel parking lot behind a low sturdy building, a veil of sleet pattering against the windscreen. The building was roofed in dark metal, ridged sheets visible through occasional patches of melted snow, its pitch engineered to shed heavy blankets of snow.

This was his compromise. The local veterinary clinic. If only he knew.A shiver ran down Grace's spine despite the warmth of the truck's interior.

"You okay?" Caleb covered her hand with his, the rough pads on his palm tickling her skin. In the close confines of the truck, he was close enough that she caught his scent. A hint of musk and cut wood. Warmth bloomed in her chest. He didn't need to do any of this. He barely knew her, and yet here he was, taking care of her.

"Yeah. I'm fine. The Advil is helping." The pain in her wrist had dulled to a steady throb.

"We can trust Brad. I wouldn't bring you here otherwise. He served with my dad." He smiled and an unfamiliar ribbon of heat unfurled in her belly.

She dismissed the sensation. Caleb was a hot guy. She wasn't blind. But that was as far as it could go. She couldn't afford to like him, or anything else, despite the increasing way her body was becoming attuned to him.

"I'll check it's okay for us to head in." Caleb climbed out of the truck, pressing his phone to his ear. She blew out a breath, glad of the space to collect herself. He was speaking on the phone, his voice an indistinct murmur.

I need to focus, not lose sight of my priorities.

Caleb rapped on the glass and then opened her door. Sleet glistened in his hair, on his collar, and she had the insane urge to brush it away. He thumbed his phone off and jerked his head toward the hunkering building. "We're good. Let's go in."

He escorted her across the lot, his arm looped protectively through hers, holding her close to his body as he walked her across the space. He wasn't taking any chances. Grace leaned into him, savoring the moment. Even though there could be nothing between them, it didn't mean she couldn't enjoy the comfort of his care while she had the chance.

As they made their way toward the rear entrance, Grace's gaze was drawn to a large glass picture window that offered a glimpse into the waiting room beyond. The warm glow of overhead lights spilled out onto the snow capped gravel. An older woman caught Grace's eyes and smiled. A cat carrier rested on her lap. The snub-nosed face of a white Persian cat pressed against the mesh door, insolent yellow eyes unblinking.

"In here." Caleb held open the emergency exit. His gaze skirted over her shoulder, searching the empty lot behind her, ever vigilant.

Grace followed him inside, stepping into a bright corridor. Cool air soothed her skin, and her footsteps echoed against the tiled floor. Caleb guided her into the nearest consulting room, where the familiar sight of an examination table gleaming with a recent wipe of disinfectant greeted her. In the corner, a computer work station hummed, waiting to be put to use.

Her heart raced. There was no reason to think Caleb's friend would know her. How many veterinary surgeons were there in the United States? She tried to rationalize with herself the question like a mantra in her mind. Thousands? Hundreds of thousands? The odds of running into someone she knew were infinitesimal.

But her unease lingered.

She closed her eyes, willing her heart to slow. She should find calm here. A veterinary surgery was her happy place, where she felt most at home. This should be familiar and comforting. The scent of wet fur and disinfectant stung her nostrils and somewhere a cat howled its frustration, a familiar sound from her days spent in clinics just like this one. She'd tried so hard not to miss her former life as a veterinarian, but being back in this environment reminded her of how much she loved her work, of the fulfillment she'd found in her chosen profession.

The one Richard had forced her to give up.

When they'd first met, he'd been indifferent, but that had changed. Irrational jealousy had reared its head, and he'd given her his first ultimatum. Stop practicing or I'll remove your patients for you.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Caleb touched the back of her neck with a small press, disrupting the negative spiral of her thoughts. "I'm here. And Brad is a good friend."

Her heart stuttered at his proximity. Caleb's towering frame eclipsed everything else, making her feel small.

She nodded, chewing on her upper lip. Caleb was the first person she had trusted, really trusted since…since forever, but despite the brief joy at remembering her own practice, the confines of the building, even though bright, made her palms clammy and her borrowed shirt stick to her back.

"Caleb." The door squeaked and an older man pushed into the room wearing blue scrubs snug across his broad shoulders. He scanned the room. "No, Dolly?"

"Brad. Hey. No. I left her at home this morning, but she's fine."

The two men shook hands.

"So…" Brad scrubbed at the silver-peppered stubble on his chin, lifting one eyebrow in question. "You said you had an emergency?"

"Yes. This is Grace."

"Grace." Brad extended one large hand and engulfed Grace's good hand in a firm handshake. "Hi. I'm Brad Marks." His eyes twinkled despite the rough timbre of his voice, putting her at ease.

"We need to check its not broken," Caleb explained.

"Yes." Grace swallowed. "I fell on it awkwardly."

"And hospital is out of the question?" Brad perched glasses on the bridge of his nose. "May I?" He gestured for her to give him her hand.

Grace did as he requested. "No hospitals."

His fingers were gentle. "May I ask why?" Brad ran careful fingers up her forearm, but no further. Thank God. The look on Ryder's face at the sight of her bruises was still imprinted on her mind.

"My ex is looking for me. It's over, but he won't give up. He's been chasing me for weeks." Emotion welled in her throat, making it hard to breathe. "He's a powerful man, and he knows I'm in the area. I can't risk going to the hospital. He'll find me there."

"I see." Brad glanced at Caleb. "Sounds like you should report this to the police?—"

"No police," Grace blurted.

Both men stared at her.

"No police," she repeated, her gaze falling to the floor, her voice drawing softer. "Please."

Brad patted her arm. "No police it is, then. Let's get you checked out, shall we?"

"Just place your arm here." Brad adjusted the X-ray screen against her arm.

His glasses slipped, and he pushed them back to the top of his nose. "This will only take a second."

He stepped out of the room and the X-ray buzzed. Minutes later they were in his office waiting for the images to upload.

There was a photograph on the desk of Brad and a younger woman. They were wrapped around each other, somewhere on a beach, a glorious cinematic sunset behind them. Brad held the woman against his chest, his forearm across her breastbone…

A meaty forearm pressed against her windpipe and Richard's voice rasped in her ear, making her jerk. "House rules are not to be broken." It was hard to breathe, and despite digging her fingers into his skin, he didn't budge. Instead, he hardened his grip, flattening her windpipe till she could only snatch the smallest sliver of air?—

"Grace. That's great news."

She blinked. "Sorry?"

"That your wrist isn't broken." Caleb studied her face, so intently she looked away, too scared of what he might read in her eyes. The man was far too astute for her liking. Instead, she focussed on the computer screen. There was no visible break. Brad was right.

"That's such a relief, thank you." She offered Brad a grateful smile.

"My pleasure. Just a few weeks to heal. I'll strap you up before you go. Can't be that different to a paw, can it?" Brad chuckled to himself because Caleb's attention remained skewered on her, making her skin burn.

Brad strapped her wrist with considerate care. She could understand why Caleb liked him. The elastic bandage felt good and firm on her wrist and his attention made the tension that was winding screws on the back of her neck ease a little.

Breathe.

He handed fresh supplies to Caleb; stretchy bandage, tape.

"Brad, I have all this."Caleb tried to hand the items back.

But Brad dismissed Caleb with a flick of his fingers. "Everyone says that and then they go home and realize they haven't looked in their first aid kit for over ten years and all they have is out-of-date Advil and a leaky tube of antiseptic cream." He turned his attention to Grace. "Young lady, you need to rest that wrist and keep it elevated. A few weeks of proper care, and you'll be good as new."

Grace nodded, trying to absorb the information while her mind raced with the implications of a lengthy recovery time. Time she didn't have. "Thank you again. I appreciate it."

"Not at all. Happy to help." Brad patted the back of her hand. "Caleb?"

"Grace had some car trouble but we're getting her back on the road."

Back on the road. How could she manage hours of driving with an injured wrist, especially with Alex on her tail?

Brad clicked the mouse, and Grace's X-rays disappeared. "And the ex?"

"Not a problem." Caleb's jaw was set. "Thanks. I owe you."

Uncertainty tightening in her chest, Grace shrugged her injured arm back into her raincoat. She had come too far to let this setback derail her. Because if she did, one thing was certain: she'd pay the ultimate price—with her life.