She leaped to the side of the doorway, plastering her back against the hallway wall, fully expecting a hail of bullets as a response to her un-thought-out emotional reaction.
Nothing. Was that a groan? She flung herself into the room. “Marc! Marc!”
He wasn’t in the living room or behind the kitchen counter. The place was a mess with a shattered lamp, overturned end table, utensils, pots and pans, smashed dishes scattered around the work island in the kitchen area. There had been a terrible struggle. She caught sight of a splatter of blood beside a large frying pan and let out another scream.
“Marc! Are you here?”
Suddenly she realized there seemed to be splatters of blood everywhere.
A groan from the bedroom. She dashed inside. Marc’s arms and feet were bound to the headboard and footboard of the bed with ripped up sheets. Masking tape circled his head, covering his mouth.
She leapt onto the bed and began to rip the tape from his face. His eyes groggily followed her. He smelled of liquor. What had the wretched man done to him? Fury swelled. She swore silently the beast would pay.
“Well, hi, babe.” His clear blue eyes blinked heavily. “Gee, I’m glada see you. I was jus’ havin’ the greatest dream.” He leered lasciviously as Amanda clawed at his bindings. She dashed into the kitchen and found a knife.
Marc was looking forlorn. “I’m really sloshed. Bastard poured enough Scotch down me to sink a bammleship. Sure sunk me.” He nodded sagely as Amanda sawed at the knotted sheets, blinking through her tears, desperately trying not to carve up his strong ankles.
“Y’wanna know what I was dreaming about?” He sat up in bed grinning foolishly as she freed his limbs. “Us!”
He reached for her and she flung herself at him, knocking him back down onto the bed. She covered his mouth with kisses as the sobs hiccupped out of her. She kissed his eyes, his chin, and drew back in shock at the horrible bruise risen on the side of his head.
But it didn’t seem to bother him and it wasn’t going to stop her. She dragged him upright, blubbering, testing his limbs. He grabbed her tight. His limbs worked fine. She grabbed him back, covering his body with hers as she clutched him desperately.
He lay blissfully back on the bed as she drenched his chest with choking sobs of relief.
“Oh, man, that dream was nothing.”
AMANDA jerked upright. She had fallen asleep.
Marc snoozed contentedly under her, his arms locked safely around her, a benevolent smile of possession on his handsome face.
It could only have been a few minutes. She was just so exhausted- and so relieved. She should let Marc sleep. God knows what he had been through. But he needed to know what had happened. It was his investigation and she should tell him what had happened to David. There may have been something she had missed in the bedlam at school. She needed to get him awake.
She pulled his arms off her and shook him. He frowned mightily and then when he saw it was her, grinned broadly.
“What about a cold shower? An awful lot has happened, Marc. I need to know you’re listening.”
“I will if you will.” He struggled out of the bed and tottered upright, clinging to her. Amanda had been in bed with him. This was too good an opportunity to miss. “Come with me into the shower. We can talk as much as you like.” He began to undress.
He was less drunk. Another sigh of relief. But she knew if they got into the shower together, talking was not what they would do; certainly not what she wanted to do. But as he pulled off his shirt and his broad bare chest was exposed, she panicked. He began to unzip his pants. She leapt off the bed to leave the room.
“Wait a minute, Ace,” he pleaded, stumbling after her, his trousers half off. “You said take a shower. C’mon, please…”
“David was hurt very badly at the League tonight. I think it was an accident. But so much as been happening lately, I need desperately to talk to you about it.”
He stood frozen in the middle of the room, holding his trousers, dressed only in his white cotton briefs, assimilating what she had said. Comprehension almost visibly raced through his body, slicing through the drunken stupor. She wanted to throw herself at this incredibly handsome, powerful man and turn her life over to him this instant. He would protect her from all harm. He would make everything well. He would certainly make her well.
Marc blinked hard, his mind furiously working on willing the drunkenness away. He concentrated on Amanda’s face, waiting for a fuller explanation.
“David is going to be fine. There was a riot.” She gave a giddy laugh, her nerves taut, overwhelmed at the amazing memory. “Because Antonio didn’t show up. See what you did?” She gulped for air. “Someone knocked into that large cabinet with the plaster casts and one fell on David. He was knocked out. It was pretty bloody.” She shivered.
He turned and headed for the bathroom. “Follow me and keep talking.”
He pulled off his shorts and stepped into the shower. Amanda stopped dead at the sight of his naked body disappearing behind the mottled glass.
“David is going to be fine? More information, Ace.” His voice was firm over the noise of the water.
Thank God, he seemed to be sobering by the minute. Just what she needed.
“He’s in Roosevelt. The CAT scan came back clean. It’s a minor concussion with superficial cuts. He should be okay in a day or two. They gave him medication for the bleeding and the pain and hooked him up to all sorts of monitors. If he develops no complications, they’ll release him in a day or two.” She stayed outside the room, yelling through the open door.
Suddenly the water stopped. He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel to wrap around his middle. “We’ve gotta get there right away. Is he alone?”
She blinked at the sight of his naked body. “Wh… what do you mean, alone? We all left. There was nothing else we could do. He was moved upstairs.”
Marc was hurriedly pulling on clothes. “This big guy that’s been hounding us is getting panicky, Ace. I wondered why he didn’t finish me off. Maybe it’s because he’s got someone else who it’s more important to finish off first.”
Amanda felt the breath knocked out of her. “F… finish off…?”
He grabbed the phone. “Do you know Roosevelt’s number?”
“No… it’s…”
He punched the operator. “This is an emergency. I need to be connected to the emergency room of Roosevelt Hospital on 59th Street. Damn, they connected me to 911.”
“Marc, what’s going on? Tell me what we need to do.”
He was explaining to the emergency operator there was the possibility of a murder attempt on a man’s life in the emergency room of Roosevelt Hospital.
Amanda’s jaw dropped.Murder?
“Marc, he’s not in emergency anymore…”
Marc was furious at not being able to make himself clear. The operator thought it was a hoax. There would be people everywhere in the E.R. She demanded more information. Marc slammed the receiver down in frustration and ran for the door, still standing wide open.
“We’ve got to get to David. With him out of the way, the lead suspect would be gone.” He dashed outside.
Amanda’s jaw dropped. David was the lead suspect? She grabbed her purse and dug for her address book. She punched in the numbers quickly. “Christine, don’t ask any questions. This is an emergency. Get to the hospital and get into David’s room and stay by him until we get there. Yes. It is a very big deal. I don’t care how you do it.” She hung up and ran outside where Marc was still frantically searching for a cab, cursing mightily that cabs were never around when you needed them.
“Marc, it’s the middle of the night. Tell me what’s going on. What do you mean, David’s the lead suspect?”
A cab appeared and they threw themselves inside. Marc urged the driver to run whatever red lights he could safely run. “If a cop stops us, even better.” The large bill he waved made his point.