Page 67 of One More Chance

“You really don’t look so good.” Special Agent Herron came over and touched the sides of Kenna’s face, then gently palpated her forehead.

“Ouch.”

Special Agent Herron strode out the door so fast Kenna had to blink. Then she was gone.

Jax came in then with his phone to his ear. “Yes, sir, I will.” He came close and looked at her forehead.

She grasped a handful of his shirt on the side of his ribs. Absorbing some of that steadiness so she would be able to stand. In a sec.

“Yes, sir.” He listened some more. She could sort of hear whoever was on the other end of the line. “Understood, thank you.” He tapped the screen and stowed his phone in his pocket. “He really slammed your head good, didn’t he?”

She closed her eyes in lieu of a nod. “Buzard has some things to answer for.”

Herron frowned, standing behind Jax. “Who?”

“Long story.” Kenna held onto her husband, and he helped her stand. “I’m so glad I need more medical tests. That’s fun.”

His thumb swiped across the inside of her elbow where she still had that needle mark.

“I need my gun back. The police took it.”

Jax nodded. “Yes, you do. But not if you’re getting an MRI.”

“If Buzard put a tracker in me, maybe it’ll wipe the thing. Like an EMP.”

Jax scrunched up his nose. “Let me worry about that, and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.”

“Can these nice agents work my cases? Someone needs to be looking for those kids and Nicola Santorini while I’m at the hospital.”

“We’ll work something out.” He took her hand, leading her to the door. Looking back at her. Probably to check she could actually walk.

Kenna had been knocked down too many times to be fine with it happening again, and all because some ingrate smacked her in the head. But if she went down into the pit of negativity, her mind could come up with all kinds of crazy theories about brain damage and skull fractures. Or even having a permanent dent in her forehead.

I don’t want this to be my life, Lord.

And if it was? She would have to accept the fact that a surrendered life meant she wouldn’t be in control of whathappened to her. God was the one who had the final say. She had to trust Him that it would all be for her good and for His glory.

Someone shouted behind them down the hall. They were almost to the lobby where cops brought arrested people into the building and booked them in, not the public entrance, which needed to be a safe space for anyone to come in off the street.

A uniformed officer ran past them so that Herron had to tuck in close to the rest of them. The officer’s belt creaked as he ran.

Two other officers ran by them as well.

In the lobby, those running cops pushed through a side door that read Holding. The sergeant behind the desk yelled into his phone. “We need an ambulance! We have a prisoner in distress!”

Kenna tucked closer to Jax, who stopped where they’d be out of the way. He asked, “What’s going on?”

When the sergeant looked over, all three agents flashed their FBI badges.

The cop behind the desk said, “Guy down in holding. He quit breathing. They’re trying to revive him.”

“Who?” Herron asked.

“No idea who he is, but he looks like one of our officers. I guess they’re twins?”

Kenna hissed out a breath. “Reggie is dead.”

“Someone killed him.” Jax looked at her. “And Regis’s partner.”

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