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The man laughs smugly. “Look at you.”
I shift, and pain shoots through my torso. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Consider us friends.” The woman smiles. I notice how attractive she is now that I get a better look. “We’re here to help.”
“I don’t need help.”
“Your appearance suggests otherwise.”
As I reach for the call button, the man clears his throat. “Word has it that you’re sitting on a pretty significant chunk of change‚ not to mention some lucrative patents.”
The woman leans in, edging him out. “Any idea who would want to hurt you?”
I don’t offer a response. I couldn’t shrug, not even if I wanted to. I can at least manage the call button.
“It could literally be anyone,” the man says to her before turning his attention to me. “Just last night, you insulted a man in a bar…your history with women is…let’s see…”—he pauses long enough to rub at his chin—“quite colorful…and there is no shortage of issues on the home front. Am I warm?”
“It’s not his home anymore,” the woman murmurs.
I press the call button once more. Something in his eyes flickers, and mine follow. I see that it’s been disconnected from the wall. “Like I said,” he tells me. “We’re here to help.”
The woman places her hand on my arm. “We can offer you twenty-four-hour protection.”
“Hell,” he says to her. “We can do better than that. We can probably even get his family back.”
I press a button so the bed rises to a semi-seated position. Movement hurts like hell. “It sounds like a lovely offer,” I say to them both. “But I don’t need your help. The police have everything under control.”
“Oh, but Mr. Parker, that’s where you’re wrong. You have no idea just how much help you’re going to need when all is said and done.”
The woman squeezes my arm. “That’s if you’re even alive.”
My eyes widen. I’m not sure whether to be surprised or amused.
“And that lovely wife and that cute little girl of yours…” He grins. “You might want to consider them in all of this.”
And just like that, I’m no longer amused. I remove my forearm from the woman’s grip. “In all of what?”
He white knuckles the side of my hospital bed. “You see, Elliot. When you have things other people want, it’s not so hard for them to come in and take them, is it? Surely, you’ve learned enough about that already.”
“And you’re asking for what in return for your…help?”
He nods like we’re getting somewhere. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Tell you what,” I offer, motioning toward the door. “Leave your business card, and I’ll get back with you at a better time.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he says. “We know where to find you.”
Chapter Eleven
Vanessa
The human nose has the ability to distinguish and recall fifty thousand scents. This could explain how I know where I am even before I open my eyes to the bright fluorescent lights. My body knows by the sights, the smells, the feel of this place. It’s aware—keenly aware—of what happens here. It’s not the kind of thing you ever really wash out of your system.
I pull the sheets over my head and try to go back to sleep, even though I realize the impossibility of such a thing. Sleep may be elusive, but that doesn’t mean I’m in a hurry to get up.
My stomach cramps and seizes, and my head aches. Not just because of the fear or my predicament. It’s been days since I’ve had a substantial meal. But there won’t be breakfast. Not even the smoothie the place is known for. Not for me. Not today.
Breakfast or not, I know they’ll come eventually. They always do.
