Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) (6 page)

C
HAPTER
T
HREE

W
hen the world finally stopped moving, I realized simultaneously that my head was killing me and that I was upside down.

Blinking, I tried to get my bearings. I was held in my seat by the seat belt, but the car itself had flipped. Looking over, I saw Scott was in a similar position, but still unconscious. Or dead. I gulped and prayed he wasn’t dead.

It took several precious seconds for me to undo the belt, trying to brace myself against the ceiling so I wouldn’t fall. After unfolding myself from the seat, I climbed through the shattered window, leaves and dirt from the ground rough against my palms. I had to get around to Scott’s side and help him. Shakily, I got to my feet.

“There you are, luv. My, you do have nine lives.”

I gasped, whipping around to see Clive. He smiled.

“Heard from Devon?” he asked. “He’s being quite difficult, playing hard to get like this.”

“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice shaking.

“I’m entertaining myself,” he said. “Tell me, Ivy. Who else knows you’re immune to the virus that killed Anna?”

I didn’t answer, but Clive just smiled. “You like your mate?” He nodded toward the car. “How about I kill him? How would you feel about that?” Reaching inside his jacket, he pulled out a gun. “Do you think he’ll bleed out faster upside down?”

“No!” I gasped. “Leave Scott alone. He doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

His gaze was calculating. “Then answer my question. Who else knows?”

“Devon. That’s all.”

“Excellent.” He smiled.

“Freeze, Clive.” Scott’s voice startled me.

Somehow, Scott had climbed out of the car and had circled behind Clive. He was pointing a gun at Clive.

“Aren’t you enterprising?” Clive said, still facing me.

“Drop your weapon,” Scott ordered. “And turn around. Slowly.”

“I don’t think so,” Clive said. “I’ve still got your girl here. And if you shoot me, the bullet may go right through and nick her.”

Scott said nothing, his hands steady as he pointed the weapon in a two-handed grip at Clive’s back.

“So here’s what we’ll do,” Clive continued. “I’m going to walk away, and you’re going to let me.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because Ivy really needs medical attention.”

It was the only warning I had before the gun in his hand barked once. Time seemed to slow as I stumbled back, thrown nearly off my feet by the force of the impact. I looked down and saw blood seeping from my arm. Then the pain hit and time sped back up into chaos.

“Ivy!”

Clive ran straight at me as I stood, frozen in shock, then he sprinted past me into the darkened trees lining the road. There was a rushing sound in my ears and I saw the muzzle of Scott’s gun flash once. Twice. But I heard nothing. Then the ground was rushing up to meet me and Scott was running, sliding to his knees beside me.

His mouth was moving, but I heard nothing. Then a searing pain in my arm as he pressed hard. I bit back a scream, clenching my teeth against the pain. Flashing lights appeared as an ambulance and the police arrived. An EMT ran toward us.

The next few minutes were a blur of pain and movement as they loaded me into the ambulance. I told them I could walk, but my words fell on deaf ears. A needle in my arm soon had pain medication flowing, and I drifted into a pharmaceutical-induced nap.

“She’ll be all right. Just a flesh wound. Though she’ll be sore and have a scar.”

The words filtered through my consciousness as I pried open my eyes. I recognized the bright lights and antiseptic white walls immediately. The hospital.

Turning, I saw a nurse standing by the bed. She smiled when she saw my eyes were open. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

I didn’t really know. I could tell the medication was still flowing through my veins as I felt no pain. She didn’t seem to take it amiss that I didn’t reply.

“Ivy.”

Scott appeared on the other side of the bed.

“You’re going to be okay,” Scott said, resting his hand in mine. “I promise.”

“How long do I have to stay?” I asked, my voice raspy and low. I swallowed on a dry throat.

“Just overnight for observation,” the nurse answered. “You should be able to leave tomorrow.”

“I’ll stay with you,” Scott said, taking my hand.

The nurse left soon after that, flicking off the fluorescent lights so only a small one remained on to provide a bit of illumination.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“About midnight,” he said. “But don’t worry about that. Go to sleep. Get some rest.”

“Clive got away?” I persisted.

He nodded. Grim. “But we have an APB out on him. We might get lucky.”

Somehow I thought Clive probably knew how to avoid being captured by law enforcement.

I was tired and my body felt heavy. Scott’s hand felt good in mine, but I longed for Devon. My eyes stung and I closed them to keep the tears at bay. Would Devon know I’d gotten hurt? Would he care if he did?

“I’m so sorry about your car,” I said.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Insurance takes care of it, plus the Agency since it was technically in the line of duty.”

That was a relief. “And you’re okay? Nothing injured from the accident?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Bit of a concussion, but I’ve had worse.”

We’d nearly been killed in a car wreck. Scott had been threatened by Clive. I’d been shot. And Scott had a concussion. I was literally the angel of death.

Despite my efforts, tears slipped from my eyes to slide down my cheeks.

“Aw, it’s okay, Ivy,” I heard Scott murmur. “Don’t cry.”

His kindness was the last straw and I started sobbing in earnest. Mortified, I used my good arm to cover my eyes with my hand. The bed dipped and then I felt Scott’s body next to mine.

“Shh. It’s okay,” he soothed.

“It’s n-not ok-kay,” I stammered through my tears. “You could’ve d-died.” I didn’t want to be responsible for anyone’s death—least of all Scott’s—but I had no idea what to do to get Clive to stop. “Why d-didn’t he j-just kill me?”

Scott pulled me against his chest, careful of the bandage on my arm. He smoothed my hair and held me until I’d stopped crying. His thumb brushed at the tear tracks on my face.

“I imagine he didn’t kill you because you’re immune to the virus,” he said. “That is what he said, right?”

I hesitated, my stomach sinking. Scott had overheard, and I didn’t want to lie to him. I nodded.

“How?”

“Mr. Galler,” I said. “He tricked me into being injected with the only formulated vaccine. I was poisoned with the virus along with Anna. I survived. She didn’t.”

“Devon knows this about you, and now so does Clive.”

“Yes.”

His arm tightened around me. “We need to take you into protective custody,” he said grimly. “I’ll call in the morning, get some agents over here to transport you.”

I cringed into him. “I just want my life back.”

“I want you to have your life back,” he said. “And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that happens.”

The thought of going into protective custody and more people knowing about my immunity depressed me. Add to it the fact that Devon would have no chance of finding me once that happened and I felt as though my entire world was falling apart.

I don’t know what woke me; my eyes just suddenly popped open. I was still lying next to Scott, only now I was on my back. I lay utterly still, listening intently. It was darker inside the room than it had been earlier, the only light that which filtered in through the window in the closed door.

Had there been a noise? Had a nurse come in the room? But it didn’t feel like that. Something . . . wasn’t right.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and goose bumps erupted on my skin. My whole body was stiff with tension, though I could sense Scott sleeping soundly next to me.

“Wake up, mate,” a voice said. “I like for a man to look at me before I kill him.”

I gasped in surprise. I knew that voice.

Devon had come.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

I
heard a switch being flicked and light flooded the room. Devon stood by the bed, gun in hand, the hard metal of the barrel pressed against Scott’s temple.

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” Devon said, tapping the barrel against Scott’s head. “Your training is for shite and your aim even worse. So much for keeping my girl safe.”

Scott was wide awake now and he slowly turned to face Devon. The barrel moved to settle at the center of his forehead.

“That’s better.” Devon smiled, and it sent a chill down my spine. I’d seen that smile before. Cold. Humorless. Dangerous. “Any last words, mate?”

But Scott didn’t seem fazed. He looked at the gun, then at Devon. “You must be Devon Clay.”

“Ladies and gents, he’s smarter than he looks,” Devon said.

“Devon, what are you doing?” I asked. I’d seen Devon kill before. He was very good at it.

“I’ve come to collect you, darling,” he replied. “Be a good girl and get dressed.” He extended a hand to me.

Unsure as to what to do, I didn’t move, glancing uneasily between Devon and Scott.

“Be quick about it,” Devon chastened me.

“Don’t hurt him,” I said.

“Then don’t give me a reason to,” he replied. His smile was gone, his expression cold and hard. “He’ll be quite lucky if I don’t punish his complete ineptitude, letting you get shot.”

I took his hand and eased out of bed, conscious of my nakedness underneath the inadequate hospital gown, but no one spoke. I pulled on a pair of jeans and Scott’s button-down shirt he’d discarded earlier. My shirt was nowhere to be seen. I wanted to get Devon out of here and away from Scott as quickly as possible.

“She’s not going with you,” Scott said.

“The hell she’s not,” Devon replied. “And may I remind you that you’re not in any position to be making demands.”

“You’ll end up killing her,” Scott insisted. “You might even be the one to do it rather than someone else. Either way, she’ll end up dead. Is that what you want?”

A flicker of something crossed Devon’s face, then was gone. “Predicting the future, are you? Be sure to buy a lottery ticket. You’ll have better odds of being right.”

I slipped on my shoes and combed my fingers through my hair. I approached Devon once I was dressed.

“Ready, darling?” Devon asked lightly, glancing at me. Reaching out, he briefly cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin.

“I-I guess,” I stammered. I hadn’t expected him and his sudden appearance set me off balance. But even so, the frisson of excitement he always made me feel fairly crackled along my skin like a shiver of static electricity. Though he held a gun on a man, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I must be crazy to be so obsessed with a man like him.

Dressed full-out in a gray suit so dark it was nearly black, he wore a white shirt and striped tie, the knot perfectly tied in a full
Windsor. The single button on his coat was done precisely up and the crease of his pants looked like they’d just come from the dry cleaners. He had light-brown hair that could be blond in the right light, and blue eyes so light they were akin to ice. Energy and menace oozed from him, drawing me in like a moth to the flame that would ignite me.