Page 107 of Cornered

Briggs sat there confused. He knew Kekoa worked for a private contract agency, but he didn’t know the details of what they did. If they could help, why was Lahela hesitant?

“I don’t need their help.” She pulled her hand free from Briggs and stood. “I knew this was a mistake. I never should’ve stayed here. I should’ve moved back home and then none of this would’ve happened.”

Move back home? Lahela had wanted to leave? His chest heaved at the idea. He rose. “Lahela, it’s going to be okay.”

“No, it’s not, Briggs.” Her tone softened, and when shelooked at him, her eyes were filled with tears. “Look at all of this trouble I’ve caused.”

“You didn’t cause—”

“Excuse me.” Detective Morgan entered the living room and held his cell phone up. “Ms. Young, do you have your cell phone?”

Lahela looked around and then went to her bedroom and returned with her phone. “I have two missed calls from the hospital.”

“Here.” Detective Morgan handed her his phone.

Briggs watched as Lahela took the call. He thought his stomach couldn’t be twisted into a tighter knot, but the second that alarm washed over her pale face, he was wrong.

Lahela handed the detective his phone and turned to Briggs. “Nancy was in a car accident.” Her voice cracked. “Someone tried to kill her.”

SIXTEEN

“SHE COULDN’T TELL USmuch other than the color of the car and that it followed her for a few miles before slamming into her car.”

Lahela tried to concentrate on Officer Hoffman’s explanation, but the words felt like they were swimming around in her head. He was the officer she’d spoken to on the phone. The one who told her,“It looks like someone ran your friend off the road.”

She’d replayed those words in her head as Briggs drove her to the hospital with Daphne following in her car. Now the two of them stood by her side, listening to Officer Hoffman tell them that Nancy suffered head injuries and a broken femur that required immediate surgery.

“Has her family been notified?” Briggs asked.

Officer Hoffman shook his head. “The only number we had for an emergency contact was Ms. Young.”

“Lahela Young”—a short nurse with dark brown curls walked over—“Ms. Bart is out of surgery and in recovery. She can have two visitors at a time.”

“I’ll wait here,” Daphne offered. “When you’re done, we can go back to my place for the night.”

“You should go home. I’ll figure something out.” Lahela sether jaw. She wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt Daphne, even though the look in her eyes said she’d done exactly that. Old fears of burdening her friends resurfaced and she needed to escape them. “I need to go check on Nancy.”

Following the nurse to a dim room at the end of the hallway of the hospital’s trauma floor, Lahela shoved the panic aside when she saw Nancy. She had bruises and scrapes on her face, her red hair tangled against the pillow, and her left leg was wrapped in bandages and elevated on pillows. Lahela reached down and clutched Briggs’s hand. It was warm and strong, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s still going to be groggy from the anesthesia, but you can talk to her and let her know you’re here.”

All Lahela could do was nod. When the nurse left, she went to Nancy’s side and rubbed her hand, careful of the IV.

“Is he why you don’t love Trevor anymore?”

Lahela startled when she heard Nancy’s scratchy voice. “Hey, how do you feel?” Her tone came off a little too cheery for the setting and circumstances, but she hoped it would distract Briggs from what Nancy just asked. “Do you need anything?”

With half-closed lids, Nancy looked at Lahela. “Y-you’re my best friend,” she slurred. Her head flopped around, eyes widening more as she looked Briggs over. “He’s got big muscles and looks like a cowboy. Do you have cows ... boy?”

Briggs grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

Nancy’s eyes opened fully and a lopsided grin filled her face before she cringed and reached up to touch the cut at the edge of her lip. “I like cowboys with matters ... manters...” She frowned and tried again. “Manners.”

“The nurse said you’re going to feel a bit groggy from the anesthesia.”

“I’m fine,” she slurred again, before she grabbed Lahela’s hand. “You’re my bestest friend. Best friend forever. And I love you.”

Guilt niggled at Lahela’s conscience. They were certainly friends, but she had never considered Nancy her best friend. It had to be the anesthesia.

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