Page 46 of Final Exit

She rooted in the refrigerator, grabbed a stick of butter, searched for the cheese. There were only four slices. Was that enough?

“Hey, Kade. How much cheese do you like on your sandwiches?”

She glanced over her shoulder, but he was already gone.

Kade just managed to take care of nature’s call and wash his hands before collapsing to the bathroom floor. His leg hurt so much that now his back hurt right along with it. Every muscle along his left side was screaming at him to stop running around and get some rest. He hated that his injury had brought him to this point. Would he ever be the man he’d been before the accident?

Abby.

No. He couldn’t go there, couldn’t let those memories batter him right now, not here, not with Bailey to protect. If he could just hang on long enough for the pain pills to kick in, he’d be okay. He could pretend all was well as he sat across from Bailey and ate the promised grilled cheese sandwich. Then, he could collapse in one of the two bedrooms and sleep through the worst of the pain. He was due a good-leg day. He just had to survive until tomorrow.

He popped the brace off his thigh and tossed it aside so he could massage the aching muscles. He’d make himself get up in a minute. Just as soon as he gathered his strength. He leaned his head against the side of the tub and closed his eyes.

Bailey picked up one of the grilled cheese sandwiches and stared longingly at it. The monster in her stomach poked against her ribs, demanding that she take a bite. Man oh man did she want that sandwich.

She turned sideways on her bar stool, looking toward the hall. The bathroom door was still closed, with Kade still inside. She groaned and dropped her sandwich to the plate, fully intact. When life returned to normal again, whatever post-EXIT normal was, she should see a therapist about her inability to eat before everyone else had their food.

She debated knocking on the bathroom door. But if he had an upset stomach or something, she didn’t want to embarrass him—or her. She decided she might as well grab their bags from the trunk.

With her own bag secured with a shoulder strap, she picked up Kade’s duffel and slammed the trunk.

That’s when she saw the bullet hole.

She bent down and ran a finger across it. One of the agents at the hospital must have hit the car as she peeled out of the parking lot. She frowned. The damage was just above the bumper. If the bullet had kept going straight... She jerked her head up. She ran around to the passenger side of the car and yanked open the door.

There was a bullet hole in the seat. And it was soaked with blood.

She shoved the door closed and took off in a dead run. She raced into the kitchen, her shoes sliding on the tile floor as she rounded the corner. More drops of blood formed a trail all the way to the bathroom. How had she not noticed that he was bleeding?

“Kade, open up.” She rapped her knuckles on the door. “Kade?”

No answer. She tried the knob. Locked. A sense of déjà vu hit her, making her stomach churn. Her mind swirled with images of Hawke lying on the floor in the safe-room he’d built behind his kitchen cabinets.

Except that the room had been anything but safe.

“Kade, if there are any parts you don’t want me to see, you’d better cover them up. I’m coming in.”

She jumped up and slammed both of her feet against the doorknob. The cheap interior door splintered and flew open, banging against the wall.

“Oh, no,” she whispered. She ran into the bathroom and dropped onto her knees to lift Kade’s face out of the puddle of blood.

Chapter Thirteen

Monday, 1:17 p.m.

Kade blinked at the ceiling above him. He was lying on a bed, presumably in one of the bedrooms that Bailey had mentioned earlier. But for the life of him he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here.

“You’re awake.”

He turned his head on the pillow. Bailey stood in the doorway, her deep green eyes studying him intently, tempered with a wariness that immediately set him on alert.

“What happened? Have they found us?” He flipped up the sheet to slide out of bed. The rush of cool air against his skin had him looking down in surprise. “And why am I naked?”

He hurriedly covered himself as Bailey approached the bed, her face lined with worry.

“Don’t try to get up. We’re safe. No one knows we’re here.” She gently pushed him down on the pillows and pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. In spite of her reassuring words, she seemed tense, unsure.

He gently pulled her hand away from his face. “Bailey, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

---