Seaside Manor Bed and Breakfast - Lilly Mirren Page 0,1

and no one home. For the life of her she couldn’t remember why she’d ever decided to move there, away from everyone she knew. Now, she had no idea what to do with her life.

Chapter 2

Rebecca

Her eyes blinked open, shut again, then opened. It was difficult, the opening part. And when they were open her vision was blurred. She couldn’t figure out where she was. Not at home. Not at the station. Why was she lying on her back? Rebecca Mair squeezed her eyes shut for a few moments, then flung aching eyelids open again, widening her eyes in an attempt to focus.

Where was she?

Moving. She was moving. But on her back. The ground beneath her lurched, then turned. She was in a vehicle. Her eyes focused on a face — a paramedic. She’d worked with them often enough to know each of them by name.

“Steven?” she croaked, then coughed to clear her throat. “What…?”

He nodded, a smile brightening his tanned face. “Welcome back, Constable. Now stay with me, all right?”

“What happened? Where am I?”

“You were stabbed, that’s all I know. You’re on your way to Tweed Hospital. Okay? Do you understand?” His brown eyes fixed on hers, studying her, monitoring her responses. She knew that look on his face. He was worried about her, checking her vitals even as he spoke.

She attempted a nod but found that her head was secured in place by tight straps. With both hands she reached up and tried to pluck them away.

Steven gently lifted her hands away and put them at her sides. “Leave it alone, Bec. We have to make sure you don’t have a neck injury.”

“I don’t,” she replied.

He chuckled. “Let us be the judge of that.”

“Where’s Franklin… I mean the Sarge?”

“He’s fine, he’s got to take the fella into the station, from what I understand. He said he’d meet us at the hospital when he could.”

She inhaled a slow breath, let her eyes drift shut. He was fine. She hadn’t let him down, not this time. Memories lurched into her mind, one by one. Not a complete picture, but like a stop-motion animation — one moment at a time that her mind had to piece together to make a scene.

They’d gotten an anonymous tip about Thad Borseth, the creep who’d been stealing money from the Emerald Cafe for months. He was staying in a run-down cabin outside of town, near the beach. The sarge went in the front, Thad came out the back where she was waiting, and they’d fought. She flinched inwardly, remembering the feel of his fist connecting with her cheek, then the pummelling of her torso.

With tender fingers she reached for the place, and again Steven redirected her hands.

“Like I said, you’ve been stabbed. You’ll be sore there for a while. I’ve patched you up as best I could for the ride to the hospital, but you may need surgery. We’ll have to wait and see what the doc says.”

The hits to her chest must’ve been the knife connecting with her vest, but he’d found the tender place beneath the vest and connected with flesh.

She inhaled a sharp breath as a flutter of nerves flashed through her. What if he hit an organ? Her head felt light, her vision fading in and out. She could die.

She didn’t want to die, not yet. Not this way. She wanted a chance to live first, not to spend her only days of freedom in hiding then have her life snatched away from her by a thug, a thief. That wasn’t how things would end for her. Not if she could do anything about it.

With a defiant grunt, she forced her eyes open and met Steven’s gaze.

He grinned. “There’s my fighter. Good to see that spark in your eyes again, Constable. You’re gonna be just fine.”

They were taking her in to surgery. She lay on her back in the sterile hospital room, prepped, ready to go, but with tears in her eyes.

“Are you sure I can’t call someone for you?” asked a nurse, pausing beside Rebecca’s bed.

She shook her head, not wanting to make eye contact with the nurse in case she saw the tears. She never wanted anyone to see her weakness, her vulnerability. She was strong, confident, private. That’s all they needed to know.

The nurse gave a brief nod of the head, then wheeled a silver cart lined with medical supplies out into the hall, leaving Rebecca on her own.

There was no one to call. No one to tell.