Page 6 of Lethal Threat
He walks toward the door but turns back to look at me with his professional face firmly in place. “Hours. Days. Months. Years. Sometimes the patient never recovers.”
Ice water slides down through my veins, turning my fingertips numb. I muster up the courage to speak. “When can I go home?”
Dr. Radcoff looks at the floor, then at me. “Sorry, you can’t. Not without someone to assume round-the-clock care for you.”
Swallowing my tangled fear and frustration, I try to look pleasant. “I know it might not seem like it, but once I get warm and get some fluids, I will be completely capable of taking care of myself.”
I turn pleading eyes to a guy in a military uniform that showed up a few minutes ago.
He gives me a sympathetic, albeit uncomfortable, smile. “I understand your desire to get out of here, but without your memory at least partially intact, there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to do basic tasks and make rational decisions. This protocol is for your safety.”
The air rushes out of me. “Bu-but I can’t just stay here forever.”
There’s a weird tension around Dr. Radcoff’s eyes now. “We’ll get you a room here for a night,but then if we haven’t found anyone to claim you,” he clears his throat and chokes out, “we’ll transfer you to a mental health facility.”
Oh. My. God.
He really said that. A fact proven by his now green hue and pinched face.
My stomach rolls and I know I’m turning green, too. I close my eyes. “I think I might throw up now.”
Chapter Three
COLE
I want to break things.
Mostly things I can throw.
My Ford F-250 fishtails as I take the turn onto Route 44 too fast. I know I’m acting like a moody teenager and that pisses me off even more.
After two more turns, I grind to a stop in front of my brother’s barn.
Caleb steps out of the door into the falling snow. He greets me with a wave as I stalk toward him. “What’s got you all spun up this morning?’
“Sierra called me last night.”
His hand stills, crushing the rag he’s holding against some kind of metal tractor part. “Damn, that’s the last thing I expected you to say. Figured you were on edge because you were out of Captain Crunch or something.”
I stalk past him into the barn. “It’s Cocoa Krispies, knucklehead.”
He follows me, frowning. I can feel it without seeing his face.
“Why’d she call?”
Caleb knows things ended badly with Sierra.
“Don’t know,” I say as I pace around. “Her voicemail was garbled. The mic was picking up the wind. Besides wind and mumbling, there were only a few clanging sounds. Finally it went to static. The whole thing was weird as hell.”
I move restlessly around looking at his various winter projects with worry crawling under my skin. Just talking about the call freaks me out.
He drops the oily cloth on the workbench and sets the bracket down. Now all his attention is on me. “You call her back?”
I blow out a breath. “Tried all morning. She’s not answering. Going straight to her voicemail.”
Caleb’s looking at me too closely. Now he’s going to be all over my shit. I shouldn’t have brought it up.
He crosses his arms and cocks an eyebrow. “What now?”
