black
market. Hell, these guys probably were the black market.
To make sure she hadn't missed any options, she looked in the second bag… and found her
favorite pair of yoga sweats… and the rest of the things she'd packed to go down to Manhattan
for the Columbia interview.
They'd been to her home. These bastards had been in her home.
«We had to take your car back,» Red Sox explained. «And figured you'd appreciate some fresh
clothes. These were ready to go.»
They'd driven her Audi, walked through her rooms, been through her shit.
Jane stood up and kicked the duffel across the room. As her clothes spilled out onto the floor, she
shoved her hand into her pocket and gripped the razor, ready to go for Red Sox's throat.
The patient's voice was strong. «Apologize.»
She wheeled around and glared at the bed. «For what? You take me against my w-«
«Not you. Him.»
Red Sox's voice was contrite as he spoke up fast. «I'm sorry we went through your house. Just
trying to make this easier on you.»
«Easier? No offense, but fuck off with your apology. You know, people are going to miss me.
The police will be looking for me.»
«We took care of all that, even the appointment in Manhattan. We found the train tickets and the
interview itinerary. They no longer expect you.»
Rage made her lose her voice for a moment. «How dare you.»
«They were quite content to reschedule when they heard you were sick.» As if this was supposed
to make it right.
Jane opened her mouth, ready to have at him, when it dawned on her that she was wholly at their
mercy. So antagonizing her captors was probably not a smart move.
With a curse, she looked at the patient. «When are you going to let me go?»
«As soon as I'm on my feet.»
She studied his face, from the goatee to the diamond eyes to the tats at his temple. On instinct
she said, «Give me your word. Swear on the life I gave back to you. You will let me go
unharmed.»
He didn't hesitate. Not even to take a breath. «On my honor and the blood in my veins, you'll be
free as soon as I'm well.»
Berating herself and them, she took her hand from her pocket, bent down, and grabbed a vial of
Demerol out of the bigger duffel. «There aren't any syringes.»
«I've got some.» Red Sox came over and held a sterile pack out. When she tried to take it from
him, he kept a grip on the thing. «I know you'll use this wisely.»
«Wisely?» She snapped the syringe out of his hand. «No, I'm going to poke him in the eye with it.
Because that's what they trained me to do in medical school.»
Bending down again, she fished around in the duffel and found a pair of latex gloves, an alcohol
towelette packet, and some gauze and packing to change the chest dressing.
Although she'd given the patient prophylactic antibiotics through his IV before surgery, so his
risk of infection was low, she asked, «Can you get antibiotics as well?»
«Anything you need.»
Yeah, they were definitely hooked up with a hospital. «I might want some Ciprofloxacin or
maybe some Amoxicillin. Depends on what's going on under that surgical packing.»
She put the needle and the vial and the other supplies on the bedside table, snapped on the
gloves, and tore open the foiled square.
«Hold up for a second, Doc,» Red Sox said.
«Excuse me?»
Red Sox's eyes fixed on her like a pair of gun sights. «With all due respect, I need to stress that if
you harm him intentionally, I will kill you with my bare hands. In spite of the fact that you're a
woman.»
As a shot of terror stiffened her spine, a growling sound filled the bedroom, the kind a mastiff
made before it attacked.
They both looked down at the patient in shock.
His upper lip was peeled back and those sharp front teeth were twice the size they'd been before.
«No one touches her. I don't care what she does or to whom.»
Red Sox frowned as if his buddy had lost his marbles. «You know our agreement, roommate. I
keep you safe until you can do it yourself. You don't like it? Get your ass healed up and then you
can worry about her.»
«No one.»
There was a moment of silence; then Red Sox looked back and forth between Jane and the
patient like he was recalibrating a law of physics-and having trouble with the math.
Jane jumped in, feeling the need to calm them down to a rolling boil. «Okay, okay. Let's cut the
macho-shithead posturing, shall we?» The two of them looked at her in surprise and seemed even
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