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She laughed. "I don't see you as a man afraid of blood."

"Not afraid of it, but I don't love seeing it. What about you? You've never gotten freaked out by anything you had to deal with?"

"I've seen some horrible, nasty injuries, especially when I was in Germany, and we were getting patients right off the battlefield. That was difficult. But I'm not a surgeon; I was never on the front lines for handling those emergencies. I was either assisting if we were shorthanded or I was doing the follow-up treatment. But I don't mind blood. I just focus on the patient and how I can help them." She paused, thinking about a question she'd wanted to ask him since he'd called his team to the house. "Are your fellow agents concerned about me being involved in this case? I got the feeling Zane wanted to talk to you alone, and that Kara stayed behind to try to figure out who I was and what I was doing with you."

"They're concerned, which is not unwarranted. You're a civilian, and your life could be in danger the closer you are to Jack and also to me."

"I think I'm in danger, whether I'm with you and Jack or not. Someone put that note on my car to warn me to back off. And, clearly, I didn't do that. They probably know that by now. Whoever they are," she added.

"Hopefully, we'll know soon." He pulled out his phone. "I'm going to see what I can find on that Dr. Levitan."

While he did that, she pulled out her own phone to look for information on Waverly Health and Megan Prescott. Unfortunately, most of what she could find on the clinic came from sponsored ads and very little from actual patients.

As for Megan Prescott, she appeared to be divorced, with no children, but as Rachel clicked through Megan's social media posts from earlier in the year, she discovered something interesting.

"Megan Prescott was married to a naval officer," she said, lifting her gaze to meet Tyler's. "Lieutenant James Prescott. They got divorced last year. She moved from LA to New York and joined Waverly Health six months ago."

"Her ex was Navy?" he murmured in surprise.

"Maybe he had trauma, too, and she wanted to work with vets after being married to a sailor. I'll keep looking." Twenty minutes later, her eyes started to blur from looking through social media feeds, and she put down her phone. "I'm going to rest my eyes for a minute," she said, curling her feet up under her as she put her head down on the pillow by the arm of the couch.

"Why don't you go to bed?" Tyler suggested.

"I'm fine. I just need a few minutes."

Rachel woke up with a start to see Jack thrashing around on the couch, as if he were trapped in a nightmare. Checking her watch, she realized it was six o'clock in the morning. The other end of her couch was empty, and she could hear the shower going in one of the bedrooms.

She got to her feet, moving quietly so as not to startle Jack, who was mumbling under his breath, beads of sweat on his brow, as he kicked out and tried to punch the couch.

"It's okay, Jack," she said softly. "You're just having a nightmare. You're okay. You're safe."

His movements slowed a little with her words and her soothing tone.

"No one is going to hurt you here," she continued. "You don't have to fight."

As he quieted down, she leaned over to put her fingers on his wrist so she could check his pulse. At her touch, his eyes flew open, and he grabbed her arm in a brutal grip.

"You," he said, fury filling his eyes. She tried to pull her arm away from him, but the struggle only seemed to inflame him.

As she jerked away from him, she fell backwards, hitting the coffee table as she went down. And then Jack was on her, his hands coming around her neck. She tried to scream, to get away, but she was pinned under his strong body, and he still seemed lost in his nightmare.

She had to fight. She kicked one leg into his groin, which lessened his grip on her neck, and she rolled out from under him. But she was barely to her knees when he grabbed her again and threw her onto her back, the force of his action knocking down the side table next to the couch. The glass lamp narrowly missed both of them as it crashed to the ground.

And then his fingers pressed into her neck, her breath came short and fast, and her vision began to blur.

Tyler, she prayed, as she slipped away….

Chapter Seventeen

The pressure on her neck suddenly eased, as did the weight on her body. Rachel managed to get her eyes open as she gasped for breath, realizing that Tyler had yanked Jack off of her, and the two of them were fighting each other now. She wanted to get up. She needed to help him. But she was still trying to catch her breath.

Finally, she managed to get to her knees just in time to see Tyler shove Jack up against the wall, his forearm across his neck.

"Dammit, Jack, it's me," he shouted. "It's Iowa. Wake up."

Tyler's harsh words seemed to stun Jack, who blinked at Tyler in confusion. "What?"

"Are you done fighting me?"