Safe at Last (Slow Burn 3)

“Thank you,” Zack said.

Beau hesitated, searching Zack’s expression for . . .? Zack wasn’t sure, but uncertainty shone in Beau’s solemn gaze.

“What?” Zack asked.

“Were you able to work things out. Before . . .” Beau broke off and lifted his hand toward the door to indicate Gracie.

“No,” Zack whispered. “I went out for a run. I don’t normally run as far. God, I wish I hadn’t. If I’d gotten home sooner maybe I would have caught the fuckers. And she wouldn’t have lain out there in the cold for God knows how long.”

“She was just lying there when you got back?” Caleb asked.

Zack nodded. “My gate’s security pad wasn’t working. But the gate was open. The outside motion-activated lights didn’t work either. When I got to the steps, I saw her on the ground out of the corner of my eye. They just left her there to die!”

“Does your apartment complex have security cameras?” Beau asked.

Zack nodded.

“I’ll get Dane over there to pull what he can. Maybe one of the cameras caught the assholes and we can get an image,” Caleb said.

“I bagged the tag,” Zack said. “I tried to touch it as little as possible. Maybe we can get a print.”

Beau nodded. “We’re reporting this, right?”

“Absolutely,” Zack said firmly. “I’ll take all the help we can get. I want these fuckers, Beau. I don’t care what we have to do in order to nail their asses to the wall, but I want their goddamn blood.”

“Don’t blame you,” Caleb said softly. “If it were Ramie . . .” He shook his head.

Beau’s expression tightened and rage glowed in his eyes. “It was Ari not too long ago and now it’s Gracie. Fuck this. I’m with you, Zack. I want their asses and I’ll do whatever the fuck it takes to take them out. But I think we go with Briggs and Ramirez. This may very well be out of their jurisdiction, but they’re the only two I trust on this and they know the history.”

Zack nodded his agreement. The two detectives had worked with them before and were familiar with the oddities that accompanied DSS’s many jobs. They wouldn’t be met with skepticism over some freakish story about a group of fanatics who targeted anyone they deemed as a threat to their “cause.” Some fucking cause.

The door to Gracie’s room opened and Zack surged forward, every muscle in his body coiled tight. He held his breath, barely able to speak through numb lips.

“How is she?” he demanded.

The nurse smiled at him. “The doctor will be out shortly to discuss her condition, but she’s going to be okay. Nothing life threatening.”

Zack closed his eyes. He staggered with relief and for a moment he weaved, unsteady on his feet. “Thank God,” he whispered.

“Easy there, man,” Beau murmured, grabbing Zack’s arm to steady him.

“Can I be with her now? I don’t want her to be alone when she wakes.

The nurse’s eyes softened. “Of course. After the doctor comes out and discusses her condition, you can go in. She’s woozy and confused though.”

“Why?” Zack instantly demanded.

The nurse held up a hand. “It’s to be expected. She awoke in awful pain so we administered IV medication to make her more comfortable.”

“So she doesn’t have a head injury?” Zack asked hesitantly.

“I’ll let the doctor bring you up to speed on that,” she said. “Oh look, here he is now.”

She stepped away from the door so the doctor had room to get through. Then she hurried away, saying she’d return shortly to check on Gracie.

All three men focused intently on the doctor and some of what they were feeling must have shown on their faces because the doctor hesitated and took a step back, his expression wary.

“How is she?” Zack asked anxiously.

“She’s undergone extensive trauma over ninety percent of her body.”

“Jesus,” Caleb muttered.

Beau swore and Zack clenched his fingers into fists at his sides.

“How bad is it?” Zack asked in a low voice.

The doctor grimaced. “She has a few broken ribs but fortunately she didn’t puncture a lung or another vital organ. As odd as this may sound, the beating appeared to be calculated. As though her attacker intended to do as much damage as possible without her sustaining any mortal injuries. Because as I said she sustained bruising to ninety percent of her body and yet apart from the cracked ribs she has no other broken bones. But some of the bruises are deep and will require careful attention while she’s recovering. She needs to be on strict bed rest for a few days and I can’t stress this enough. She needs to limit her movement to only what is necessary. Someone needs to be with her when she showers or bathes. And she has to take her recovery slowly. There’s no rushing this and no shortcuts. Her body needs time to heal. Period.”

“She won’t lift a finger,” Zack vowed.

The doctor cleared his throat. “I assume the authorities have been contacted? By law we have to report any crime, suspected or real.”

“They’re on their way,” Zack said. “My first priority was getting her to the hospital.”

The doctor nodded. “You did the right thing.”

“Can I see her now?” Zack asked anxiously.

The doctor nodded again. But as Zack started to pass him he stopped him momentarily.

“She must take her recuperation seriously. This isn’t something that will go away overnight. She’s going to hurt very badly for the first several days. It’s imperative that she not suffer any emotional or physical upset during this time. And if I were you, I’d seek out professional counseling for her. After an attack, a common reaction is denial or the victim just wanting to forget about it and make it go away. That’s not healthy and it won’t work. You may have to push her and she likely won’t thank you for it at first, but she needs to accept and work her way through what happened to her.”

“I understand,” Zack said quietly. “I appreciate your efforts, Doctor. And rest assured, she will not have to do anything other than rest and get to feeling better.”

“I’m glad to hear that. And I dearly hope whoever did this to her is arrested immediately.”