We All Sleep Alone (Finley Creek #11) - Calle J. Brookes Page 0,55
it all, including the safe—though technically he supposed it was Shelby’s, as the contents of the house and the house itself was fully in her name. He’d pay it back—when this ended and Izzie was safe.
He had to face the facts. He had no confidence that the TSP would find Izzie’s attackers anytime soon. This could drag out indefinitely. They had no idea how long this was going to last.
They needed that money.
He returned to the garage in time to see a still-drowsy Izzie climb gingerly out of the passenger seat, a terrified look on her pretty face.
One curl stuck straight up on her head. Never had she looked more like a lost waif than she did right then.
The sweatshirt Nikkie Jean had helped her dress in was Allen’s and far too big. It hung almost to the knees of her jade green scrubs.
“Can you explain what am I doing here?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I wouldn’t be asking if I did.” Big dark eyes stared at him suspiciously. Fearfully.
“Do you remember the attack in the W4HAV parking lot?”
She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I think so. Starting to. It’s a bit cloudy.”
“That’s the sedative they gave you before fixing your arm. We all agreed that would be the quickest, quietest way to keep your presence unknown. It’ll wear off shortly.”
Her eyes were trained on the gun in his hand. Wide and scared. She would be after what had happened to her.
Allen had almost forgotten he still held it. He put it in the duffel bag with the rest of the supplies he’d scrounged together. “Elliot Marshall and Rafe decided that you needed to be removed from the city before whoever has targeted you realized you escaped. If they already haven’t.” He wasn’t going to lie to her or sugarcoat. This woman was made of steel, despite her fragile appearance at the moment. “I volunteered to make that happen.”
“Why? Why you?” She rubbed a small, slender hand over her eyes, seemingly started to see it encased in a temporary air splint. When she looked at him, all the questions were written right there for him to see.
“I made the most sense.” It was a wonder the crazy woman was even on her feet. Allen stepped toward her.
Izzie immediately stepped back. “Where exactly are we?”
He hesitated. There had been no love lost between the nurses and Logan. Far from it. He’d started to hear rumors within a week after Logan had died about how his friend had treated some of the less experienced—younger, more easily targeted—nurses around the ER.
Apparently, according to Nikkie Jean and Lacy, Izzie had been a favorite target. “We’re at Logan’s place. He left it to my sister. I needed a place to hide my car.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re leaving. The two of us. Together. That was one thing Marshall was clear on. We’re leaving Finley Creek.” Allen made a split-second decision. Izzie was stubborn and hard-headed. She was likely to balk the instant she realized what his plan actually was. “As quickly as we possibly can.”
It was probably best if he seized the upper hand now while she wasn’t quite capable of fighting back.
The woman was bound to argue. They didn’t have the time for that.
He tossed the duffel bag with the gun and spare clothes he’d grabbed from some of Logan’s old things from the guestroom closets into the van.
Allen stalked to her. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her gently until they were practically nose to nose. Those eyes of hers—told him everything she was feeling. “We’re leaving in that van. You are going to actually sit down, shut up, and do what you’re told until we get somewhere safe. I don’t want you to worry about anything but resting. I’ll handle all the heavy lifting tonight.”
Drowsy brown eyes stared at him. She was shocked. He didn’t care.
It was best to get the upper hand with this woman early on. Otherwise, she’d be challenging him every step of the way.
He stared at her, feeling like something indefinable was shifting within him. Like his world was changing in an instant and he had to be prepared for whatever came. It would most definitely involve her.
Izzie kicked him.
Right in the shin.
Allen grunted and dropped her—a little more carelessly than he should have. He’d have to remember that the little waspish woman would sting when she got angry enough. “That was a bit unnecessary, Nurse Izzie.”
“Hands to yourself, Dr. Jacobson.”
“In the van.” He inspected her quickly. “I didn’t hurt you,