Always a Warrior(39)
He exited the truck, slammed the door shut behind him, and stalked to the cabin. Some deep down instinct told him it was empty but he shoved the door open anyway. A single lightening glance confirmed his instincts. He was alone.
“Damn it, where the hell did she go?” He stormed to the radio room and yanked open that door. It slammed back against wood with a resounding crash.
In scant minutes, he confirmed that Laurie had been trying to get help. Of course, the operative had shut her down quickly, leaving her without recourse.
“Except to leave on foot and seek help elsewhere,” Damien muttered. He cursed profusely as he stormed out of the cabin, closing that door with a vicious slam that echoed through the woods.
He climbed back into the truck, started the engine with a hard twist of the key, and roared away. His busy mind settled on the only option left to Laurie. She would have gone to the nearest town in search of police help. Had the nearest agent intercepted her? Partially expecting her reaction, Damien had set that contingency in place.
Cursing his part in the deception, he slowed his speed as he drove into the small town of Coopersville. An accident scene caught his attention and his blood chilled. Through the crowd of onlookers, he saw emergency vehicles and a small blue car, its front end crumpled into a brick wall. Heart pounding, he braked to a hard stop. He left the engine running and forced his way through the crowd to the ambulance. Sirens wailed in his ears and a babble of incoherent voices irritated him. He grabbed the arm of a paramedic covering a male body in plastic. Flooded with relief that the casualty was not Laurie, he forced the medic to face him.
“Was there a woman in this wreck?” he demanded rigidly.
“On the way to the hospital,” the man snapped back, his eyes wary.
He started to turn away but Damien tightened his grip. “Still alive?”
The man went pale but nodded. Damien released him and bolted back to the truck. All he could think of was that she still lived. With no idea what her condition might be, he jerked the transmission into reverse and pulled away from the scene in a spray of gravel.
* * * *
The fierce pain of regaining consciousness nearly killed her. Beeps and hums of machinery split her skull. Her whimpers pierced her ears. Her head throbbed. Was this hell? She forced her eyes open and struggled to sit up but the jackhammers pounding in her skull forced ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening
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her to stay down. Bright light blasted her eyes but she kept them open as she looked around the room and groaned. She was in a hospital. The white walls reflected all the light in the universe straight into her eyes. The blinding pain that shot through her skull nearly dragged her under. Her eyes closed and the horrible pain subsided.
When she opened her eyes again, a nurse was taking her blood pressure. The cuff tightened around her arm, and then relaxed by slow degrees.
“How long have I been here?” she demanded groggily, shading her eyes with a trembling hand.
“About four hours,” the nurse replied compassionately. “You’ve had a nasty concussion, a gash on your forehead, various bruise, scrapes, and scratches.”
Her hand still shaking, Laurie touched the fiercely throbbing area just above her temple.
The bandage, soft under her fingers, was extended around her head.
“My head feels like a truck drove through it.” Her weak attempt at humor drew a smile from the nurse.
She struggled to sit up, her body throbbing and aching in painful protest. With the nurse’s gentle assistance, she was propped with plenty of pillows. The door opened with a loud click of metal. That noise shot sharp pain through her skull. The curtain around her bed was drawn aside and she blinked at the gray-haired doctor. He resembled her mind’s preconceived image of a typical country doctor, complete with a slight paunch and twinkling blue eyes behind metal-rimmed bifocals.
“Good morning.” He chuckled as he glanced at his watch. “Or rather, good afternoon.”
“How did I get here?” Laurie demanded as his hand closed gently around her wrist.
“You don’t remember?” His fingers found her pulse as he gave her a reassuring smile.
“It’s not unusual with a concussion. Car accident—you hit a brick wall.”
“I’ve been here four hours already?”
He nodded, his sharp clinical gaze roaming slowly over her. “Your injuries were relatively minor. The driver wasn’t so lucky. He died instantly. Do you remember anything before the accident? What’s your name?”
Laurie frowned. “Laurie Crawford.” Concentration greatly increased the throb in her head. Memory crashed over her. “I woke up at the cabin. Stacy and Damien were gone.”