Chapter 21

I felt the ground shift beneath my feet and knew I couldn't maintain my footing. In an instant, my bag went flying from my hand, and I heard a shout come from behind me. I landed hard on the ground, my head hitting something solid, quickly followed by a grayness that floated around the edges of my vision. I tried to fight off the oncoming unconsciousness I knew was approaching. However, the fight ended before the battle ever really started, a yawning cavity of oblivion encasing me within its darkness.

A few minutes—hours—I’d no idea how much time had passed when I heard a voice calling my name. A voice that was growing more insistent and I found I couldn’t refuse it. Prying an eye open, I peered up at Ethan, Rick, as well several other familiar faces as they stared down at me with worried expressions.

Why on earth, I wondered, was everyone huddled around me, and staring? In the next instant, I was recalling the fall and jerked into an upright position. I’d clipped someone on the chin and noted it must have been Rick’s, as he was rubbing it with his hand.

Feeling embarrassed at being the center of attention for such a stupid reason, I cleared my throat. “Can I have some water, please?”

After taking a sip of water from the plastic bottle thrust into my hand, I rested my head on my up-drawn knees. My eyes still hadn’t focused yet, and I sat hunched over, recalling I’d felt an instant need to vomit when I’d spotted the victim. I’d been climbing down the steep embankment, not paying attention to where I’d been placing my feet as I’d gazed at the body of the young woman below us.

Victimized even more so than had Kimberly or the one before her, this woman’s arms and legs, severed, lay to either side of her torso, disarranged, almost like the pieces of a puzzle.

Finally, giving a soft sigh, I lifted my head from my knees, noticing everyone had moved on down the slope and to the horrid scene below me: everyone except Ethan, who continued balancing on the balls of his feet beside me. Feeling uncomfortable under his unwavering gaze, I tried on a smile but didn’t quite pull it off.

Observing my attempt and subsequent failure at pretending everything was hunky-dory, he raised an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“Yeah, give me a sec, and I’ll be ready to work.”

Ethan shook his head. “There are other team members to help me work it. You just stay put.”

At his words, I made to get up, but Ethan shot out a hand and shoved me back down. “Christ, Nicole. You just took a hell of a blow to your head, so stay your ass down. I said, me and the other team members will work it.”

I frowned at him. “Will you quiet down, you’re drawing attention.”

“Like I give a shit... Now, are you going to sit here or not?”

“Or not... I got a job to do, and I will do it.” I returned.

Pushing his hands off my shoulders, I stood, yet found I was far from steady. Refusing to allow Ethan to see that fact, I straightened my shoulders and tossed my head back, immediately regretting the action as a sharp pain shot through my skull.

Raising a hand, I touched a spot above my left ear and found the area so tender I half expected my hand to come away with part of my skull. Ethan, having stood too, and with eagle eyes pinned to my every action,
reached out and pushed my fingers away.

With a gentle touch, he began to probe at my head. “Shit, baby!” he spat, feeling the same lump I had.

Hauling me into his arms, he began the struggle of climbing up the steep tilt of the incline.

Protesting the action as my stomach rolled, I somehow made Ethan understand my problem.

He hastily lowered me to my feet, and I turned away, becoming ill. When I’d recovered enough that another bout wasn’t imminent, he again swooped in.

With one arm circling my back and the other curled under my knees, he continued the climb up the embankment. Finally, reaching his pickup, he shifted me around in his arms.

After using one hand to open the door, he sat me in the cab. “Now, stay the hell, put.”

He stared into my face, frowning, before turning he trotted back down to where Rick and Jon were bending over the figure on the ground.

Unbuckling my seatbelt and shoving the door open, I lowered my feet to the ground. “Bossy, high-handed son of a bitch,” I mumbled, at the same time glancing down toward the crime scene. Stilling, I watched as Rick looked up toward the pickup, before shaking his head, he murmured something to Ethan.

I gave a groan when Ethan whirled around, face going still as he stared in my direction. His eyebrows lowered, and his face became a scowl with the tempestuous storm brewing.

“Ah, shit!” I heaved a sigh as I watched as Ethan began re-climbing the incline. When he made it to the top, he marched back toward his pickup.

Every step he took, expressed the fact he was seething. When he finally came to a stop next to his pickup, I was standing, using the door as a shield against his anger.

Reaching out, he gripped the door with his fingers as though he wanted to rip it out of my hands. After a few seconds of doing nothing more than holding it, though, he jerked his hands back.

Turning his head and mouth working silently in anger, he blew out a breath in frustration before turning to face me again. I could see in the amber depths of his eyes he was still angry as hell but was doing his damnedest to control it. Long, tense seconds passed, and I could see words swirling within his eyes, however before they slipped past his lips, he’d dismiss them. Finally, he settled on, “I’m taking you to the hospital to get looked at.”

“I need not go to the hospital, Ethan. I’m fine.” I argued.

“Nicole, get in the fuckin’ pickup.” His voice was deceptively quiet.

I did as he ordered with no argument, as I knew I was seconds away from an explosion from him that would register a ten on the Richter scale.

Shutting the door after I had my feet planted on the floorboard, he made his way around the hood. Opening the driver’s door, he climbed in. Sitting silently beside me, he folded his hands in a tight grip on the steering wheel, never looking in my direction as he stared out the windshield.

“Tell me, oh-wise-one; it’s not possible you could have a concussion, right?” His words dripped with sarcasm.

“I don’t have a freaking concussion,” I shot back.

His head whipped around until he was glaring into my face, before grunting. “Oh, yeah—just what in the hell makes you so certain you don’t?”

I waved my hand at my head. “I’ve had one, and this is nothing.”

He snorted. “Uh-huh...nothing, okay since you don’t want to go to the hospital to get looked at, I’ll take you to my place and have Ember look at the baseball on your head.”

Oh, peachy, I thought, my already dark mood turning black.