Already making his way down the hall, Gannon tossed a hand in the air in a lazy makeshift wave and said over his shoulder, “Ditto.”
With his back to the wall, Dace watched the security guards follow Gannon, boarding the elevator with him. Flanking him on each side, they stilled when Gannon tossed an arm across the shoulders of each guard. He offered a cocky smile, and the two men escorting him grabbed their Mace. “Let’s get this over with. I know why you’re following me, so which one of you fellas wants to suck my dick first?”
Dace chuckled as the doors began to close. Asshole. He scrubbed his hands down his face, submitting to the exhaustion that overwhelmed him, even if only for a moment. This was heavy shit, and even when he caught a few minutes here or there to rest, it was fitful and full of frustration.
A nurse left Ivy’s nearby room, gaining Dace’s attention. He whispered to himself as he stared on, “Jesus, Ivy…where have you been? What are you so afraid of?”
CHAPTER 6
“Wh-what happened?”
Dace stirred at Ivy’s near whisper and leaned forward from his seat at her bedside to grasp her hand. “You’re okay. I’m here. You’re safe, Ivy.”
She turned her confused gaze on him, eyes squinting as if adjusting to the dim light as she tried to determine where she was and who he was. His lips swept across her knuckles, and she startled.
“What are you doing? How did you get in here?” Ivy abruptly pulled her hand from his gentle grip and tried to scoot back in her bed, pulling the blanket to her chest like it was her armor. “Dace?”
“I’m here, honey. It’s me,” he assured in a soft tone as he moved to the edge of her bed in an attempt to bring her comfort and not fear. With a tender touch, he cradled the back of her head, trying to offer some semblance of comfort. “Tell me what’s wrong. How can I help you…?”
Ivy’s eyes danced around the room, panic settling in her expression like he was watching her wake up from a terrible nightmare she wasn’t sure had passed. “The hospital.”
A subtle sense of knowing fell upon her as her head bobbed up and down as if agreeing with the flooding memories she had to be exploring. She was remembering – what she was remembering was left to question.
She lifted her injured arm to assess the cast she wore before reaching for her forehead with her other hand, cringing when she touched the swollen gauze-covered gash she’d earned when she tried to run. “I’m still…here?”
“Portland. Yes,” he said, his nerves seeming to get the best of him. He didn’t know what to do. Call a doctor or prepare to intercept another escape attempt. “Do you know why you’re here?”
Ivy dropped her hands to her lap and inspected them as if they held the answers. Her mouth moved, but not a word passed through her lips. With tear-filled eyes, she looked at Dace again. “The men?”
Dace shook his head. “You remember them. That’s good. What else do you remember, honey?”
“Oh my God!” she shouted. Shoving the blankets off her, she tried to raise to her knees to better scan the space as if she’d lost something and desperately needed to find it. “Where is he? Where is he?” She looked around Dace to see if whoever, or whatever, she was searching for was there. “He’s… He’s…” A sob escaped her.
“Who, Ivy?” Dace circled an arm around Ivy’s shoulders as an attempt to protect her from whatever she feared at that moment. His expression was helpless and defeated. “The men? Are you running from something? Someone?”
Her breath caught when she covered her mouth as if the reality of her situation was beginning to settle in. The confusion that consumed her appeared to be resolving, like the pieces to a scattered puzzle coming together in the form of her once-clouded memories. It left her in an emotional state Dace didn’t understand. He didn’t remember an emotional or frantic Ivy. He only remembered Ivy as calm, collected, and not easily riled but fiery and strong when she needed to be. But as quickly as her emotions rose, they fell. Ivy was retreating back into herself. Or the self she wanted Dace to see. Just as quickly as the fear washed over her, it receded, and her once frazzled expression was now one of stone. Emotionless. Hardened.
“No,” she responded. “I’m… There’s nobody. I was… I was just confused.”
“How did you get here, Ivy?” Dace asked.
With a quick whip of her head, she opened her mouth to speak again but stopped and remained silent as though she caught herself doing something wrong. Ivy turned away once more, hugging herself at the waist as she reeled in the panic that kept breaking free and dancing in her expression.
“Ivy?”
Unnerved, Ivy quickly jerked her head in Dace’s direction at the sound of her name, training her eyes on him again.
“How did you get here?”
With a moment’s hesitation, she finally replied, “By ambulance, I suppose. I don’t recall getting here on my own.”
Shit, Dace thought, dropping his head in frustration. He’d been praying for her memory and lucidity so he could get to the bottom of her arrival and subsequent attack but that prayer answered made him regret believing in anything. Ivy was guarded, and it wasn’t lost on him how quickly she was able to reach such a state, given the circumstances. This was a well-practiced trait and not natural. He’d been in the business long enough to recognize self-preservation by way of silence. Hell, he’d written the book on it.
“You did come by ambulance, but I think you know that’s not what I mean. Right?” Dace waited for her response but was ignored. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me…”
“Help me? What makes you think I need or want your help, Dace?”
He recalled how feisty and headstrong Ivy could be, but this was more than that. He couldn’t put his finger on exactly what this was, but he knew it exceeded anger, well above fear, and landed somewhere around pissed the hell off.
He originally wanted to tread lightly, but this new challenge was one he happily accepted. Two could play at this. “Oh, I don’t know, Ivy. Maybe the fact that you wrote my damn name on your arm shortly after being beaten within an inch of your life and just before you lost consciousness?”
“I-I don’t recall that. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Her head cocked back, quivering chin jutted out, and those threatening tears finally breached, gliding down her black and blue face.
Dace ran his hands through his hair and moved back to his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “Don’t do this. Don’t hide, not from me. Not anymore. What aren’t you telling me? Who were those men, and why did they want you dead?”
His voice gently quaked on his last word, and it was her total undoing. Another sob escaped, and she relaxed back into her bed, giving in to whatever pain she’d been battling and the tears she’d been withholding. She was tired, too tired to fight, and Dace could see that. But just as he thought he’d broke her, she mustered up the strength to resist his questioning again.
“I’m not hiding,” she said with a sniffle, wiping her tears. “I’m just…back in town.”