Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 (31 page)

**

John snapped awake. It took him a moment,
lying on his couch in the low light of dawn that hadn’t yet peaked
over the mountains, but his brain eventually caught up. He took a
quick shower, changed into his only clean uniform and then took the
coffee pot from his kitchen downstairs. He had no intention of
drinking from one that might have been drugged.

The cell door was open. As was the front
door.

Andra was gone.

John set the coffee pot down. He strode
outside like she would be standing there, and then cursed his brain
for thinking something that idiotic.

Main Street was empty. John jogged one way
and then the other, before circling around to the street behind the
north side of Main. He should radio Palmer, get a search party
organized. Just as soon as he—

John approached the spot where Betty Collins’
body had been.

“Andra!”

She was propped up, her back to the wall
while her head dipped forward. Blood dripped from her chin onto her
lap. For long enough now that her jeans were stained. John dropped
to his knees and lifted her chin. He sucked in a breath.

Andra’s face was a mass of bruises. One eye
was swollen shut and blood was coming from her nose and mouth.
There was a cut on her cheek, like a ring had sliced through the
skin.

He was going to have to go get his car.

“Andra.”

She didn’t move. But she had a pulse.

“Andra, honey.” He grimaced. “I’ll be right
back. Sit tight, okay?”

John found an alley and ran between buildings
across Main to the back, where his Jeep was parked. It felt like
five minutes but was likely not that long. Thankfully, it was early
enough there wasn’t anyone on the road so John could get back to
her in half the time. He’d give himself a speeding ticket
later.

John crouched again, hardly able to breathe.
“Andra.”

Her eyelids flickered.

“I have to lift you. I have to get you to the
medical center.” He slid one arm under her knees and the other
behind her back. “Please don’t have internal bleeding.”

The noise that birthed from her throat when
he lifted her was low and feral. John winced and laid her on the
backseat of his vehicle. The drive to the medical center was slow
for her sake. When he banged on the door, Matthias emerged in the
waiting area.

“It’s Andra. Get me a gurney and go get Dr.
Fenton.”

Matthias didn’t argue, he just got the bed
and together they placed Andra on it. John wheeled her in and Dr.
Fenton’s first words were, “You moved her?”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

The doctor’s eyes were hard. “There is always
a choice.” He tugged the gurney through a set of swinging doors
with Matthias helping. “Wait out here. And pray you didn’t do
further damage.”

The door swung closed.

John wheeled around and kicked the wall, his
boot going straight through the drywall. He gripped the sides of
his head.

“Dad?”

John lowered his hands and spun around.

“What’s going on?” Pat was still in
yesterday’s clothes, now rumpled like they’d been left in the
dryer.

John crouched and Pat moved into his arms.
“Andra was hurt. The doctor is going to help her.” John prayed this
was true, that her injuries weren’t so extensive she needed what
doctor Fenton couldn’t provide. “How is Aaron?”

Pat shrugged. “He didn’t wake up yet.”

“Did you sleep okay?”

“Yeah. Matthias brought a bed in from another
room so I could sleep on it and he slept on the chair. So we were
all in the same room.”

“Want to run to the diner and get everyone
breakfast?” Hopefully it would be open.

“I could do that.” Pat nodded. “For all of
us, Matthias and doctor Fenton and you and Andra, and Aaron?”

“If you can carry all that. We’ll have to
find out what Aaron and Andra are allowed to eat.”

“Can I get Aaron’s golf cart? I think I can
reach the peddles.”

“How about, no.”

Pat pouted, but bounced back fast like kids
do. He wrapped his arm around John’s neck.

John stood, holding his son in a hug for a
moment while Pat’s legs dangled. Probably he needed the embrace
more than Pat did. “Love you, buddy.”

“Love you too, Dad.”

“Sheriff?”

John turned to the doctor and set Pat down.
“How is she?”

“Not good.”

John followed him into the examination room,
where Matthias had his sleeves rolled up. He snapped off a pair of
bloody gloves and said to Pat, “Did I hear something about
breakfast?”

John mouthed,
Thank you.

Pat was trying to glance around him, to see
Andra. John waited until Matthias reached him and then moved aside
to let the younger man out. Just before he shut the door, John
heard Matthias and Pat start talking about pancakes versus
waffles.

Andra’s cheek was bandaged and she had been
dressed in a gown. Her eyes were open.

“Hey.” He touched her cheek, keeping it light
and to the areas not so bruised. She’d been worked over and
good.

He turned to the doctor, praying she hadn’t
seen what he felt on his face. “She’ll recover?”

Doctor Fenton nodded. “Multiple bruises.
Cracked, possibly broken ribs. We’ll do an x-ray and I’ve already
called our ultrasound tech in to check the abdomen for internal
bleeding. Ms. Caleri needs to stay and be monitored for her pain
until I’m satisfied she’s stable enough to get up.”

John blew out a breath and looked back at
her. Andra’s lips moved, but no sound came out. “What is it,
honey?”

“John…”

“Who did this to you?”

Fear sparked in her open eye. Who had taken
her from the holding cell and beaten the tar out of her?

Andra reached up and touched his jaw. Her
fingers were chilled. John realized he was clenching his teeth.

“Tell me who did this to you.” He didn’t care
if it sounded like he was pleading. John should have heard her
being taken. He should have come back down after he’d called Grant
instead of falling asleep on his couch.

He’d known how the town felt about Andra, so
why hadn’t he seen this coming? Now she was barely hanging on,
breathing shallow like it hurt. Even cleaned up and bandaged there
was still blood everywhere.

Her gaze flickered back and forth across his
face. “Don’t.”

“Too late.” He took a breath. “Tell me who
did this.”

She shut her good eye and shook her head. A
tiny motion he wouldn’t have seen if he hadn’t been looking right
at her.

“You don’t know, or you won’t tell me?”

She stared at him, imparting something with
her gaze that he didn’t want to know and wasn’t going to listen to
anyway.

“At some point your principles are going to
have to give out. Especially if I’m going to find whoever did this
to you.” John backed away from the bed and turned to doctor Fenton.
“Keep me posted.”

Matthias met him in the hall with breakfast.
“What’s your plan?”

John looked at him. He didn’t look tired.
Apparently the guy was young enough that sleeping on a hospital
chair wasn’t a problem. “Can you call Bolton? Tell him I want him
here since now there are two people to protect.”

“Sure.”

“Oh, and tell him to find Nadia Marie.
Andra’s going to need her friend with her.”

Matthias grinned. “Definitely.”

Andra’s whole body hurt. But the ache would
likely be excruciating without whatever was dripping into her from
the IV. The dull murmur of humanity broke the silence of her room
in the medical center, while she stared at the ceiling tiles. The
light fixture. The sprinkler heads. The corner of the wall…was that
a spider web? Gross.

She couldn’t close her eyes. If she did,
she’d be back in the dark, surrounded by black figures. Being
punched, hit with something hard. Kicked in the face, the stomach.
The boot print on her abdomen hadn’t come out of nowhere.

At least doctor Fenton agreed to not tell
John. The law man would insist on seeing her stomach, which would
lead to photos and a written report. Not to mention the look in
John’s eyes that she wasn’t ever in her whole life going to forget.
If he found out who had abducted and attacked her, he was liable to
put his job in jeopardy.

Nothing about this needed to be documented.
Her file was full enough already. She didn’t need more to make her
look like the sad victim of a bunch of thugs, even if she could
identify the instigator. She’d seen him with her good eye after he
grabbed her chin and turned her face to his.

An eye for an eye.

Hardly, since if they wanted to repay her for
Betty’s death she should be dead now. Or maybe they figured her
lying here suffering the damage they’d inflicted was worse. As for
the mayor, he must have been sure she killed Betty if he was
willing to incriminate himself by making such a statement. Or did
he know she wouldn’t press charges? Maybe she should, although it
was in poor taste since the man was grieving.

Andra snorted, which hurt a lot.

She turned her head and felt her eyes widen.
Pat stood in the open doorway, holding a cup with a lid and a
straw.

He didn’t move. “Hi.”

She let her gaze drift away from him. “You
shouldn’t be in here.”

Not because here wasn’t safe, it just wasn’t
fine with her heart. Pat was John’s son and there would never be a
relationship between Andra and the kid’s father that would make Pat
anything to her. He’d said it himself, “We’re not going
anywhere”
.
It wasn’t worth knowing Pat better and seeing
what she’d be missing. Andra didn’t need any more regrets.

“I brought you some breakfast. Doctor Fenton
said you could have a smoothie and Sam at the diner said you like
mango. But he didn’t have any so it’s strawberry.” His voice was
small, like he wasn’t sure if she might leap from the bed any
moment and attack him.

“Thank you.” Andra held out her hand, the one
with the plastic bracelet. She felt the bandage on her face when
she smiled. It was hard to hold the expression and breathe around
her tightly wrapped ribs. Thank you, God, they were only cracked in
two places and nothing was broken—or sticking into her lungs. That
would’ve been a lot worse.

Pat gingerly stepped over and set the cup in
her hand. She took a sip and put it down, even though twisting
hurt. Pat hadn’t moved. “Did you really used to kill people?”

He was a kid, sure. But Andra didn’t like
lying.

She nodded.

His eyes flared wide for a second. “Did you
ever kill a kid?”

Was he worried what she would do to him? “No,
never.”

“Maybe they deserved it, like when Batman
kills people because they’re bad.”

Andra didn’t say anything. The world was an
ugly place, brutal and somehow beautiful at the same time. But the
beauty was only there if she looked hard enough—like into the eyes
of a child who wanted to believe the best in her. How was that even
possible? She had no right to accept that much faith from another
human being after everything she’d done. Maybe it was just Pat and
his need to see the good, even where he’d been tossed aside by both
his parents at one time.

Andra couldn’t receive it, even if Pat wanted
to give her his trust and believe she could be good until she
proved otherwise. She couldn’t let herself melt at the feeling,
because then what held her together now would crumble. Pat didn’t
need to see her crying. Still, Andra felt her eyes burn. The
swollen one hurt a lot. She looked away.

“Oh my gosh!” Nadia Marie’s clippy footsteps
entered the room. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

Andra opened her eyes to answer her
friend.

Nadia Marie was crouched in front of Pat, her
hands on his shoulders. “That must have been just awful, finding
Aaron like that!”

Andra felt the humor bubble up from her
stomach. Even so, the feeling emerged from her mouth as full-on
laughter. Ouch. Her stomach hurt and the sound was corroded from
disuse, but she could still do it. Who knew? The realization made
her laugh even louder. They must have hit her in the head pretty
hard if she found anything funny about this. But what else was she
going to do? There were too many people in the room for her to
cry.

Nadia Marie looked over, her brow furrowed
like she was concerned for her friend’s sanity. Beyond her, Bolton
Farrera stood in at the door. His mouth twitched. Andra swallowed
her laughter and groaned. “That hurt.”

Pat smiled. Nadia Marie straightened and
folded her arms, nothing but sass on her face. “Glad you’re feeling
okay. You look like someone ran you over.”

“Actually, they left that part out.”

“They?”

Andra shot a pointed look in Pat’s direction
and shook her head.

Bolton motioned Pat over with a wave. “Why
don’t you go see if Matthias needs anything?”

Pat straightened, but Andra couldn’t see his
face. “So you can talk about adult stuff I’m not supposed to know
about?”

Bolton didn’t react. “Yes.”

Pat sighed and padded out of the room.

Nadia Marie whipped around and flounced to
Andra’s bedside. “That is one stinkin’ cute kid.”

“You’re not wrong.”

She settled on the bed, the humor gone from
her eyes. “How are you?”

Andra wanted to shrug and brush it off, but
that wasn’t how their friendship worked. “It’ll take a few weeks.
I’ll be okay.” She paused. “For right now, it hurts like my body is
more bruises than not.”

Bolton was still at the door, looking at
Nadia Marie like she was an anomaly he couldn’t figure out. Served
him right. It was too late to notice her now.

Andra glanced at Nadia Marie. Her friend’s
eyes went wide, like, “What is he still doing here?”

Andra smiled. “Did you need something,
Bolton?”