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“Something to help you sleep. When you wake up, maybe you'll be more reasonable.”
“Please don't. Please. I'm sorry I got upset. I want to help you with the cake.”
But Glenda was already moving toward me, the syringe held like a weapon. I thrashed against the ropes and swung around with my one free hand. She gripped it and wrenched it behind my back, making me cry out in pain.
The needle pricked my neck, and I felt the familiar burn of whatever drug she'd used before flooding my system.
“Sweet dreams, my love.” Glenda's voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. “When you wake up, we'll start our new life together.”
Darkness swallowed me whole.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Graham, the nurses are going to try to stop you,” Trenda warned.
“And your point is?”
I pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway. Sure enough, the charge nurse who'd been monitoring my condition rushed over with alarm written all over her face.
“Mr. Wallace, you can't leave. You haven't been discharged.”
“Watch me.”
“Sir, you have a severe concussion. You could have complications.”
I kept walking toward the elevator, Roxie and Ava flanking me like bodyguards, with Trenda leading the charge. The nurse followed, her voice growing more urgent.
“I'm calling security.”
“Call whoever you want.” I punched the elevator button. “My woman's been kidnapped. I'm leaving.”
The elevator arrived with a soft ding. Trenda pressed the button for the parking garage while the nurse continued her protests from the hallway.
“This isn’t just against medical advice, this is against security protocols,” she called out as the doors slid shut.
“So is half the shit I did in the Navy.” I leaned against the elevator wall, conserving energy for what lay ahead. “Didn't stop me then.”
Trenda's SUV sat in the far corner of the parking garage. First, we had to move her son’s car seat before we could all fit. Ava helped me into the passenger seat as Trenda got into the driver’s seat, though I would have made it on my own. The blanket shifted as I settled in, and I had to adjust it to maintain what little dignity I had left.
Ava and Roxie got into the back, then Trenda turned to me. “Where am I taking you?” Trenda asked as she started the engine.
“My house. I need clothes and real weapons.”
“A hell? Are you like Simon with a gun safe and an arsenal?”
“Something like that,” I answered.
The drive took thirty minutes that felt like five hours. Every red light, every slow-moving car in front of us was another minute that Glenda had with Joy. Another minute for things to go wrong.
Trenda pulled up to my house. Someone had nailed plywood in place of my front door, not that it would keep out any intruders. But it was something. I went to the garage and keyed in the passcode to open it up.
Sweet. I sighed with relief. My truck was there, right next to my Harley. It had been in the driveway when we’d been SWATed. Whoever put the plywood up must have parked my truck in the garage as well.
I pulled the blanket around me like a toga, walking tall as the ladies followed me into the house. I headed straight for my bedroom and pulled on briefs, cargo pants, a tight T-shirt that would help keep the bandages around my ribs in place, socks, and boots. I went to the gun safe at the back of my closet.
“Wallace,” Simon bellowed from my living room. I pulled out a knife and sheathed it in the side pocket of my pants. Then I opened my bedroom door and made my way to the living room.
“Trenda, you’re a tattle-tale. I’m not inviting you on any more breakouts.”
