Gaining Ground

Drip... Drip... Drip...

The sound floats in my ears. Somewhere far away.

Drip... Drip... Drip...

Louder now. Almost deafening.

I squint, wincing at the pain coming from the base of my neck. Where am I? It’s cold. Why does my head feel as if it’s been hit with a sledgehammer?

Drip... Drip... Drip...

What is that sound? Why won’t it go away?

I open my eyes, but to darkness. I struggle to raise a hand to my neck, but it’s jolted back with a loud clack.

That clack.

That drip.

I remember.

I sob, slouched up against the frigid tile wall that smells of mildew.

How long has it been now? One day? Two, maybe? God, a week? I can’t remember. My mind is numb. The thought of never escaping overpowers me. Handcuffed to a sink, unable to move really, I kick my feet around to try to get the circulation going in my heavy legs. The floor is like ice, with shards of broken tile digging into my skin.

I remember. They’d left Jason bleeding or…or dead on the floor of the clinic. They’d kidnapped me. Vinnie Calhoun and his goon. The image of Vinnie’s tattooed arm flashes across my mind. The same tattoo worn by the man who’d nearly raped me after Holt left me with no explanation.

I shiver. Each passing hour increases the chance that he’ll remember me. That he’ll see the scar his blade left across my lower back as I escaped. A reminder of my stupidity, my misery, my weakness. One I’ll carry with me forever.

He can’t have forgotten how I kicked him in the balls—so viciously that I likely left him incapable of fathering children. Or so I’ve always liked to imagine. After what he did to me, he doesn’t deserve kids.

I jump as the door handle rattles. I stiffen, and the nausea returns as I curl up, utterly defenseless. The door swings open quickly, and the light flips on, searing my eyes. I squeeze them shut.

Wake up, sweetheart. Somebody wants to talk to you. Vinnie’s voice.

I try to lift my head, but it’s too heavy. And the pain…the pain owns me.

Wake up, girl. Got your boyfriend on the phone. Ain’t gonna come running till he knows you’re really here. So wake your ass up. And don’t even think about telling him shit. You say hello. Tell him how scared you are. Beg him to rescue you. Whatever it takes for him to understand you’re mine until he gives me what I want.

Did he say Holt?

Holt is on the phone?

Dig. Dig deep.

I have to get on that phone. It’s my only chance.

Painfully, I raise my head in the direction of his voice. I squint until I see Vinnie silhouetted in front of me, bending down with his hand held out.

Before I can reach for his phone, Vinnie yanks at my free arm and shoves it into my hand. My breath is short as I try to form the words I know I need to say.

Think fast, Niki.

Hello?

The guttural sound of Holt’s voice fills my ears.

Baby, I’m coming. Gonna look under every fucking rock until I find you. That piece of shit is dead. Has he hurt you? If that fucker has laid one hand on you... Fuck. Are you okay? Baby, talk to me. I need to hear your voice. It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise you. Nicolette? Baby, talk to me.

I try my best to take in the questions coming at me so quickly. My head is spinning. I have to tilt it to rest on my shoulder but manage to keep the phone to my ear. Vinnie’s scuffed brown oxfords in front of me give me the determination I need.

Do it, Niki. Now.

From the pit of my stomach, I find the voice to say, Campbell’s. As much effort as it took for me to get it out, it ends up barely a whisper. I pray he heard me as it’s all I get the chance to say. Vinnie snatches the phone from me and backhands me across the cheek with it. I wince as my head jerks in the other direction.

His blow has me near unconsciousness again, and his lumbering footsteps grow distant as the darkness returns and the door slams shut.

His voice is muffled by the door, and I struggle to make out what he’s saying.

You see? I got your girl, tied up and waiting for you. Gotta say she was worth the wait. Best get her quick. She might decide she likes this dick better than yours.

I shiver at the thought of Vinnie forcing himself on me.

Please, Holt. Please hurry.

I hope like hell he understood what I meant. If he even heard me. If he meant what he said about coming for me… And that’s another problem. Can I still trust him?

What Vinnie said about Holt has been festering in my mind. That he was using me. That I was his pawn to get to Doc C. That the two of them were competing to get Doc C first.

The man I’ve known and loved since I was a child. The man who inspired me to become a vet. The man whose position I’d filled at the hospital when he made the sudden decision to retire and leave town. The man no one had been able to find until Holt woke me in the middle of the night to tell me he was safe and out of Vinnie’s reach.

I haven’t forgotten any of that. Nor have I forgotten that Vinnie said it was all just a game. Like it’s always been between him and Holt. A sick, twisted game, manipulating people. Playing on their emotions.

Vinnie couldn’t have known just how potent his words were. How they shattered me. Killed me inside. The knife in my heart. Twisting. Over and over again.

I don’t know what to believe. Who to trust.

But none of that is important right now. I can’t think about it. Can’t let it control me. I gotta think about me. And Doc C. I gotta think about getting the hell away from Vinnie before he figures out who I am. Can’t let him get Doc C either. Can’t let that happen.

So Holt is my only hope. My only chance of escaping. He’s the only one who knows where I am. And I have to believe that he’ll find me. I just hope like hell he doesn’t give Vinnie what he wants: Doc C.

* * *

Minutes feel like hours. Hours feel like days. I wake again to the faucet dripping. The smell of mildew hangs in the air, and I’m certain it’s coming from the crumpled up, sagging shower curtain dangling from the bathtub. This bathroom, and the room on the other side of it, is somewhere to get high. Somewhere to fuck. Clearly not a good choice to lay your head to rest after a long drive. Not a place to take your family on their way to Disneyworld.

My body is growing numb. All I can feel now is the iciness of the floor again my skin. The damp in the air. The sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. I know why I’m so cold. I can’t escape it. I’ve lost too much blood.

Holt needs to hurry.

* * *

My wrist is swollen to twice its normal size from the handcuff cutting into my skin. I try not to tug on it too much. The dripping faucet gets my attention again. My only companion. Somehow counting the drips is keeping my sanity.

One, two, three, I whisper through chapped lips.

But the same thing happens again. Time disappears. I lift my head in a daze, trying to remember where I stopped.

My free hand is nearly numb from resting on the cold floor, but I raise it and carefully press it to the back of my head. The pressure makes the pain lessen a little, and I move my hand away reluctantly, looking for traces of blood in the darkness. There’s only a smear of dried blood from when I checked before. That’s a good sign.

My whole body aches. I’m dirty. My hair is plastered to my head and in knots thanks to the caked blood. I must be hideous. My face is swollen from the first slap I got in the car, after spitting on Vinnie. He got me right across my upper cheekbone. The swelling there is heavy and hot and makes it nearly impossible for me to open my eye.

This last strike though… He got me good. A gash across the right side of my face. It might’ve been from the phone, but I remember a large ring on that hand. It probably has traces of my skin and blood on it now. And something tells me if Vinnie notices it, he won’t be mad. He’ll be proud. He’s exactly as Holt described him. Evil. Dangerous. Calculating.

My stomach growls. I haven’t eaten in what feels like days. What I wouldn’t give for a Triple P. I close my eyes and rest my head on my shoulder. I force myself to my happy place. My escape. The sanctuary I discovered when I was fourteen, after my daddy died.

Aunt Helen’s.

I imagine I’m sitting on the porch, a tall glass of iced tea next to me. The fireflies flickering about the way they always do. The silence of the night, broken only by chirping crickets. I breathe in the fresh country air. I prop my head on the swing and stare up at the gazillion stars lighting the night sky.

The screen door opens, and Aunt Helen walks over to join me with a shot glass of whiskey in her hand. Her little secret. I can’t help but chuckle as I think of her motto: No respected southern lady drinks the hard stuff. Or gets caught with it, at least.

So talk to me, she says.

What? What do you want to know that you don’t know already?

I don’t know what you’re thinking. Tell me how you feel. Tell me what I can do to make it better.

Nothing you can do. Nothing anybody can do. Not now. Not ever.

Sweetheart, it’s going to be okay. I promise. I know it’s scary, but I promise it will get better.

I shake my head, but a horrific pain at the back of my neck nearly makes me cry out. I reach for it, but my hand is shoved away. What the hell?

You’ll live. Can’t have you dying on me. Least not yet.

Vinnie.

He’s bent down next to me. His breath—a mixture of cigarettes and liquor—makes me want to gag. He pushes my head sharply forward, and it slumps, feeling lifeless. I stifle my cries from the pain. Not giving him the satisfaction.

He probes the wound with his fingers and grunts then laughs, clearly admiring his handiwork.

Fucking prick ass bastard.

Please stop. Please. It hurts, I manage, forgetting my pride—the pain is nearly unbearable. His face is fading. The light around me is playing tricks, flashing from blinding brightness to sudden darkness as if someone were flicking the light switch. His lips are moving. He must be talking to me, but I can’t hear him. He opens his mouth wide and arches his head back, laughing, but I still can’t hear a sound.

Punch him in the neck, Niki. Try to get away.

If I punch him, he’ll only get mad and beat me again. I can’t take much more, so I sit in my despair and watch as he laughs. I stiffen as he tilts his head back to me with a new look. A look I remember.

Please God, no. No.

He brings his hand up to my tangled hair and tosses it off my shoulder. As he runs his hand down my chest and squeezes my breast hard enough to hurt, I suck in a breath, holding in a scream.

Let’s see just why Maddox has been keeping you to himself, shall we?

No. No. Please no.

Is that pussy gold? Is that why he won’t share?

Please don’t. Please, I beg.

Sweetheart, you’re gonna be saying please don’t stop when I’m done with you.

Tears form in my eyes. He lowers his hands to my hips and yanks my scrub pants and panties off in one swipe, nearly knocking me over. The tears run across my swollen cheeks, the only evidence of my unwillingness. I’m too weak to scream. As he stands, I try to raise my legs to kick at him, but they’re so heavy. His belt buckle jangles as he loosens it, followed by the swoosh of his zipper as he unzips his pants.

This cannot be happening.

In my fear and rage, I manage to lunge an arm out at him, but he quickly slams it to the wall. I’m powerless against him. I don’t have the energy to fight him off. He slouches down to get on top of me, lurching drunkenly. His hardness rubs against my thigh, and I nearly retch.

Please, no. Please.

Yo! Vinnie! Yo, we got company. Think it’s your boy, Vinnie’s goon calls from outside the bathroom door.

Vinnie scrambles to his feet and yanks his pants up then scurries out without once looking down at me. He turns the light off before slamming the door shut.

It’s Holt. It has to be. He’s found me.

I try to reach for my pants, but Vinnie threw them too far away. I don’t want Holt to see me like this. I know what he’ll think. I can’t let him see me like this. I can’t. And my face. My body. God. He’s going to blame himself.

Fuck! Fuck! Vinnie yells.

Glass breaks then the smell of smoke fills the air. A hard something crashes into the bathroom door.

Vinnie’s grating voice screams, You’re too late. Already told her your little secret. How the good doctor is really her daddy. The man her mama went to when the fucker she was married to couldn’t give it to her hard like she wanted. Ha. Like mama like daughter. Got a taste of that shit. She was sweet. Begged for more. Seems you ain’t giving her what she needs either.

The sound of gunshots have me screaming and crouching into a ball on the cold floor.

Then nothing.

Silence.

The bathroom is full of smoke, like a black cloud. I can’t even see my hand as I put it to my face. I sit there waiting. Hoping.

I try to yell, Here. I’m here, but the smoke takes me over. It traps my lungs. Steals my voice. I bang my fist on the wall.

The door suddenly slams open, and the light is flicked on. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to cover myself between my legs.

Fuck.

That’s not Holt’s voice.

I stiffen as the stranger starts to lift me only to discover I’m chained to the sink. He sits me back down and walks out of the bathroom. A moment later, a blanket is thrown over me.

It’s all right, darlin’. Gonna get you out of here. Just hold still for me. Okay, love? Hold still.

Wait. I know that voice. I’ve heard it before. On the phone. Jax. Holt’s partner.

Jax does something to maneuver the handcuffs from the sink, freeing me. He quickly lifts me into his arms, and I clutch the blanket as he carries me out of my dungeon.

All right, darlin’, I’m just gonna lay you inside my truck. You’re safe now. We’re gonn get you to the hospital.

I hear him, but I can’t speak. The words are there but won’t come out. Somehow, the pain’s gotten worse. Somewhere far away, an engine rumbles. Speeding. Loud. It’s coming closer. Getting louder. It’s in my ears.

Lost him. A door slams shut. Where is she? The door handle rattles in Jax’s truck.

Wait, man. Listen. She’s pretty messed…well, she didn’t have on her…careful…her to the hospital. His words come in muffled patches as I fight not to pass out again.

Move out of my way. Now.

Holt.

The door swings open. I can’t lift my head to see him. I don’t have a voice to speak. I can only hear. And the silence is deafening.

You drive the Buick. I’m taking her.

The door at my feet slams shut with such force the whole truck shakes. The driver side door opens, and the truck shifts as Holt slides in. He pulls the blanket up to cover me then leaves his hand resting on my shoulder.

I’m lightheaded and everything around me is fading, but I need to say his name. I need to tell him I know he came for me.

Holt, I whisper.

I don’t know if he hears me, but he bangs his hand on the steering wheel as the truck speeds up. I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry.

Chapter 2

I open my eyes to see a drag racing match on the TV. To my right, long curtains hang from the large window. A vase full of flowers sits on the table next to me. A bright red string attached to the vase leads to a balloon puppy dog with Band-Aids on his paws. I can’t help but smile at the cuteness.

I’m in a hospital bed, hooked to an IV and wrapped in a white blanket. My left wrist, the one that was handcuffed, is bandaged. I slowly lift it to the back of my head. There are bandages there too.

Good morning.

I slowly turn. Holt gets off the couch and walks toward me, and he’s at my bed, holding my hand before I can even blink.

Hey, I whisper, my voice scratchy.

Holt lets go of my hand and turns away from me, shifting back with a Styrofoam cup. Drink. He lifts the straw to my mouth and cradles my head.

I wince, but the coolness of the water feels good to my throat. Thank you.

How are you feeling?

Sore. All over.

I know, baby. I know.

He stands there, holding my hand, and I stare into his eyes. There’s pain there. He’s wrestling with something. His body is stiff. He clenches his jaw. Every line of his body tells me he’s holding something back, and, just like that, I know. Vinnie wasn’t lying. Everything he said was true. All my answers are right there in his eyes.

He bends to kiss me, and I flinch. Holt instantly pulls back, and the pain in his eyes is even more apparent. I need to talk––

The door to my room opens, and a woman walks in. My doctor, judging by the stethoscope draped around her neck. She looks to be in her late forties or early fifties and has that Aunt Helen look about her. Calm and soothing.

Good morning, Ms. Stringer. Nice to see you awake. You gave us all quite the scare last night. Fortunately, your blood pressure has leveled, and when we get another transfusion in you, your blood cell count should be just where we want it. Now, my dear, let’s have a look at you.

She turns to Holt and gives him the please exit the room look. I feel Holt’s gaze on me, but I don’t look at him or tell the doctor he can stay. I hear the door open and the sound of the hinges as it slowly closes.

So, how are you feeling this morning? she asks with a friendly smile.

I’m sore. My head really hurts.

That’s to be expected. Hitting your head on the sink gave you quite a gash, and you lost a lot of blood. It’s a good thing your friend found you when he did.

Hit my head on the sink? They lied to the hospital? Covering for Vinnie?

Think, Niki. Why would he do that?

Because Holt is going to kill Vinnie. I shiver.

Are you cold, dear? Shall I get the nurse to bring you an extra blanket?

Yes, please. I would appreciate that.

She nods and begins to examine me, raising my arm to stare at my wrist. I still can’t understand how you cut this. I mean, it looks like you were bound to something for quite some time. Any idea? Her expression says clearly that she doesn’t believe there was a bathroom accident. But it seems she’s going to play along, unless I volunteer the information.

I don’t know. I don’t remember much after I, um, felt the pain, and then everything went black.

She tilts her head and raises a brow but brings her attention back to my wrist, continuing her examination. Right, right. Well, I’ve ordered you another pint of blood. It should be here soon. I’d really like you to try to eat when they bring your tray in. You need your energy, especially as you’re eating for two.

My head jerks up. The piercing pain from my sudden movement makes me groan. Surely I didn’t hear her right. I’m sorry. What did you just say?

You need to eat before the second transfusion to keep your energy up, because you’re eating for— She gasps and raises a hand to her mouth. Oh no. You did know you were pregnant, right?

I sit staring at her, my mouth open. No, ma’am.

She reaches out and gently touches my arm. Oh dear. I’m so sorry. I assumed you knew.

Is it— Is everything okay with it?

Somehow even the discovery that I’m pregnant is pushed aside by the fear that some harm has come to the baby because of Vinnie.

Oh yes, dear, no worries at all. Everything is just fine. You’re only about eight weeks along, and everything looked fine on the ultrasound.

Ultrasound.

They did an ultrasound? I must’ve been out of it completely.

Oh my God.

I had an ultrasound. To see my baby. The baby growing inside me. Holt’s baby. Oh my God.

The doctor must see my shock because she pats my shoulder. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be fine. Do you want me to send a counselor in to talk with you?

About what? Having a baby? I can’t talk to a counselor. Can I? No. No, I can’t do that. I can’t even think about being pregnant right now. It’s too much for me. Too much. I need Cass.

No. I mean…thank you, but no. I would really like to call my friend though. Is there a phone in here?

Yes, dear. She walks across the room and returns with a cord trailing behind her. She sets the phone and its cradle on my stomach and smiles. Now, remember what I said... You need to eat, for you and for your little one.

Yes, ma’am, I promise. I force a smile.

She turns and starts to walk out, but I stop her as she pulls the door open.

Wait.

She shifts back to me. Yes, dear?

The guy that was sitting in here with me when you came in... Does he know?

She shakes her head slowly. No. We can’t release patient information unless we have your permission.

I sigh with relief. Good. You don’t have my permission. And can you please tell him I’d like him to leave?

She stares at me with concern, but eventually nods. Okay, I’ll tell him.

Thank you.

I’m dialing Cass’s number as my door swings open, and I look up to see the polite doctor trying her best to pull Holt back. Yeah, that’s not happening.

I told you, sir, she doesn’t want––

With all due respect, sweets, I’d like to hear that from her. Holt charges past the doctor but she grabs his arm, and he stops in the middle of the room, blowing out a breath. Nicolette? You want me to leave?

Hello? Hello? Nik, is that you honey? Cass’s voice comes through the phone sitting on my lap.

I pick it up quickly. Hey, it’s me. Give me a second.

Dropping the phone, I take a deep breath. The doctor is still standing next to Holt, who’s nearly five feet away from me with pain in his eyes. Not anger. Pain.

Yes. Can you please leave? I don’t want you here right now.

He doesn’t listen. Instead, he walks toward me, and, before I can object, before the doctor—or anyone, for that matter—can stop him, he bends down and kisses me. But his hands remain at his sides. Only his mouth makes contact. He’s gentle, his lips barely touching mine, but he leaves me breathless, as usual.

When he stands, his eyes are locked on mine. I’m not going anywhere, babe. You’re here, I’m here.

I tilt my head to look past him at the doctor, who’s backed up to stand in the doorway. Can you leave us? I’m fine. He’s okay.

Are you sure, dear? I can call security.

No, no, it’s okay. I’m sure.

Okay. Well, if you need anything, just use the call button on your bed.

I will. Promise. Thank you.

She slowly turns away from us and grabs the door handle, stopping to look over her shoulder at us. Without saying a word, she walks out, and the door slowly comes to a close.

I reluctantly lift my head to Holt. Looks like we’re going to have the talk sooner than I expected. Vinnie told me some stuff, Holt. Stuff about you. Things the two of you did together. That you shared women. That you played these games finding people. And that the game didn’t stop with me. That I was just a pawn to help you both find Doc C. That’s why you came back, isn’t it? To find him? You didn’t come back for me, did you, Holt? This whole thing was just a game to you, wasn’t it? I throw my hand in the air, nearly striking him. And why does Vinnie think Doc C is my father? Is it true? Did you know? Were you looking for him all this time?

He puts both hands to his mouth, sucking in a breath then releasing it. Baby, listen to me.

Four little words, but the way he says them… The tone of his voice. The look in his eye. It’s true. I hold back my emotions. My need to scream. My need to slap him. Punch him. Kick him.

No, you listen to me, Holt Maddox. Answer me. Tell me the truth. Did you come back to Coral Springs looking for Doctor Caravan?

Holt hangs his head, which is when I know for certain. Yes.

I turn my head away from him. I try to control the tears, but they’re streaming across my cheeks, burning my skin.

Baby, listen to me—

Did you know? Is it true? About Doc C?

This time his yes twists the knife deeper into my heart.

Get out... Now.

He lowers his head and shakes it back and forth. Nicolette, baby, don’t run from me. He tries to reach out and touch me, but I move away from him.

This is not me running, Holt. This is me in a hospital bed after I got attacked and kidnapped by your partner, your friend, whatever the hell he is to you, because the two of you are having a game trying to catch my so-called father. I laugh bitterly as I raise my hand and point a finger as if suddenly having an epiphany. But wait a minute, you got him, didn’t you? Made lots of money, I guess. Good for you. Now take your money, take your lies, and leave me the fuck alone.

He stands and stares, his body slumped, but he doesn’t say a word to me. He turns away, and I watch his back as he walks out the door. The hinges creak as the door slowly, slowly closes, separating me from the man whose child I’m carrying.

The sobs come out in uncontrollable fits. My heart is pounding in my throat from the shock of it all being real. Vinnie’s words. Holt’s real reason for returning. All of it. The truth. Holt was lying to me all this time. And I fell for it. Hard. Except this time there’s evidence of us being together. He’s left me something to hold onto. A tiny innocent being growing inside me.

Niki. Niki. Can you hear me? Pick up the phone!

Oh God. Cass. She’s been on the phone the whole time. She heard everything. I snatch the phone from my lap and put it to my ear. I can’t talk through the sobs.

Honey, I’m already on my way. I was there last night till late, but you were out of it, and Phil said he needed me this morning, so I had to come in, but after what I just heard, I told him I had to go. He can fire me. Find another fucking paralegal for all I care. Nothing could stop me from coming to that hospital right now.

Cass, there’s more. Just hurry, please, I force through the sobs.

I am, honey. Fast as I can.

As I hang up, one of the nurses comes in with a tray. The thought of food makes me want to throw up. And then it hits me. My sudden bouts with nausea lately. Morning sickness. Or whatever it’s called, because the first time it happened it wasn’t morning. It was right after Holt told me he’d found Doc C and that Vinnie had been in Coral Springs.

The nurse puts the tray on the side table then smiles at me and walks away. The promise I made to the friendly doctor stabs me, so I lift the top of the tray to see eggs, two slices of toast, two sausage links, milk, and tea. Just looking at the eggs is making my stomach churn, but I reach for