Griffen ordered Nash, "Use the elevator. Take her up to your suite and get her in a cold shower. We'll be up soon to check her temp again, see if we need to bring her to the hospital."
Savannah's voice was fading. "I'll get her water. Some sports drink. Did you call Hawk?"
I didn't hear the answer. I was limp in Nash's arms, breathing slowly, watching the rough stone hallway transition to the tight confines of the elevator. I braced as the door slid shut, not ready to be boxed in again.
"It's okay, sweetheart. I've got you. I need to get you cooled down and the stairs are too slow."
I wanted to say something, to tell Nash I was okay, that I loved him, but all that came out was a whimper. Tears leaked from my eyes. Relief, love, fear, I didn't know. I was still shaking, still so hot, and I hurt from head to toe.
Nash reached the door to our suite and braced me against the wall, rummaging in my pocket for the key. I tried to help, but he gently nudged my hand out of the way. "I've got it, Parker." The door opened, and he carried me straight to the shower, not bothering to take off our clothes.
Setting the water all the way on cold, he stepped inside, holding me against him as the freezing water soaked us both. I drifted again, the cold shocking and wonderful. Eventually, after someone poked their head in the bathroom and Nash said we were okay, after we stood there a little longer, I lifted my head and rasped out, "I can stand. Want to get this dress off."
"How about you try sitting instead?" Nash asked. He didn't wait for an answer, setting me on my feet and bracing my back against the wall. He unzipped my sundress and peeled it off, guiding me to the wooden bench I usually used to brace my foot when I shaved my legs.
I sank on to it, leaning back into the cold tile wall, blearily watching as Nash stripped off his sodden clothes, watching to make sure I stayed put.
"Can you talk?" he asked, taking a soft bath poof and wetting it under the spray, adding a generous dollop of body wash. The scent of fresh watermelon surrounded me as he stroked it over my skin, washing away the sweat and stink of the dumbwaiter.
"I was screaming," I whispered, surprised at how hoarse my voice was. "Throat hurts."
Nash grunted in reply. "Then don't say anything. Hawk and Griffen will have the same questions I do. We'll deal with them all at once."
I closed my eyes, letting him wash me, my body, my hair, gradually adjusting to the cool water as my body temperature eased down. "I'm ready to get out now," I whispered as Nash drew a wide-tooth comb through my clean hair.
Giving me a long look, Nash agreed. Turning the water off, he said, "Stay there. I'll get your robe and some clothes, and we'll go deal with the crowd in our sitting room."
I nodded, my throat still raw from screaming. Absently, I thought that I liked how he called itoursitting room. It wasn't just my suite anymore. It was ours. Nash returned with a gauzy thin-strapped night gown and my robe. He'd changed into cutoff sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, his dark hair combed back off his face.
I was still wobbly on my feet, but much better than when Finn had hauled me out of the dumbwaiter. With Nash's arm around my waist, I walked into the sitting room, ignoring the flood of questions until I was seated on the couch, tucked into Nash's side.
Griffen went first. "Did you see who trapped you in the dumbwaiter?" I shook my head. Before I could explain, he kept going. "Do you know what time it was?"
That question I could answer. "A little before ten." He started again, and I held up a hand to stop him, appalled at the way my arm wavered. Fortunately, Griffen shut up.
Savannah shoved a bottle of orange sports drink in my hand. "Drink that," she ordered. I took a long sip, swallowed, wincing at the stabs of pain in my throat. I wouldn't be screaming again anytime soon. Before anyone else could start with more questions, Savannah snapped, "Give her a second." They did, waiting until I finished half of the sports drink and handed the bottle to Nash.
"I was taking the packages to the elevator. Someone grabbed me from behind. Covered my eyes. Pulled me back into the closet. I couldn't see and he grabbed me, shoved me in the dumbwaiter and shut the door. I tried screaming, but no one could hear."
Such paltry words to describe the last few hours of terror and delusion. I'd never forget the heat and the darkness. Not being able to move or see.
"How did he grab you, Parker?" Hawk asked, leaning closer. "Are you sure it was a he?"
"I'm sure it was a man. His hands were big."
"Callused?" Hawk asked.
I tried to remember. "No, not really. Smooth, but big. He covered my eyes first, then his arm was around my throat and he dragged me backwards to the closet. I tried to kick and pull his arm away, but he was so much stronger."
I pushed my brain to think back. I didn't want to, my mind veering away from what had happened in the hallway. But I had to. This was important. Slowly, the memory unfurling as I spoke, I said, "He was so strong, and I remember thinking how could he be so strong when he wasn't that much bigger than me." I looked at the men ranged around the room. "Shorter than all of you. My head was at his shoulder, but he was pulling me down."
Hawk looked at Savannah. "Do you mind?" She shook her head and crossed the room to where he stood. Moving behind her, Hawk covered her eyes with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her throat, pulling her back against him. Savannah was a good five inches taller than me. Her head hit Hawk right on the shoulder, her temple aligned with Hawk's jaw.
I nodded. "Like that. Exactly." Hawk let Savannah go while I considered the way he'd grabbed me. "He didn't want me to see his face. He should have grabbed my hands, but he was more worried about covering my eyes."
"So it's someone in the house." Griffen looked from me to Savannah to Hawk. "And based on your heights and Parker's, he's about 5' 10."
Hawk pulled out his phone, flipping through screens. "Not a lot of men on the property that fit that description. The electrician's son. Bobby, maybe. And Bryce." He shoved his phone back in his pocket. "Bobby and the electrician's son were at the cottage this morning. Bryce left in his mother's car at 9:52."
