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He was tall, with short, cropped blond hair. His eyes were blue like winter’s ice—and his cheekbones were sharp and angular. He wore a cater waiter’s uniform.
This man wasn’t at all like the men who’d tried to kill me before. This one was calculated and calm.
Determined.
Professional.
All the thoughts that had been swirling in my mind suddenly evaporated.
I stared down the barrel of his gun, wishing that I hadn’t left Bones. Wishing that I’d been able to say all that I wanted to say to him. But I’d need a lifetime with him for that. And mine was about to be truncated.
The door to the restroom opened again, this time hitting the man in the back as Charlie tried to enter.
His grip slipped and he pulled the trigger.
A bright flash erupted from his hand and my skull felt like someone hit me with a sandbag. I didn’t hear a thing, and my knees went out from under me.
I fell to the ground.
Regret.
I thought it in a flash of time.
Such a stupid, useless emotion.
And then the world winked out.
Chapter 57
My eyelids fluttered, as if they were attempting to open. They were heavy and steadfast against me, but somewhere in the depths of my soul, I willed them to do as I bid.
I gazed at a stark white, texture-free ceiling that I didn’t recognize.
Anxiety at not knowing where I was assaulted me, causing my heartbeat to skyrocket.
The machine at my bedside began to beep incessantly.
An alarm went off.
Heavy leather boots hit the floor and suddenly Bones was there—at my bedside.
“Hayden,” he whispered.
His eyes were bloodshot, and though he had the healthy sprout of a beard, his skin was wan. Dark hair fell across his forehead. He didn’t bother pushing it away.
I moved my tongue in my mouth, and slowly the feeling began to return to my face.
“You look like hell,” I croaked.
The plaster of his face finally gave way and he smiled. A smile so bright it was nearly blinding.
Questions filtered through my wool-stuffed head, getting trapped as they attempted to rise to the surface.
“Water?” I asked.
He walked slowly around the bed to the nightstand and poured water from a pitcher into a plastic cup with a straw. He brought it to my lips and I greedily sucked down the cool liquid.
It tasted stale and overly chlorinated, and yet it was the best thing I’d ever tasted.
