Page 33 of Guarded from Havoc

Was it simply because she feared being left alone in the event I ended up badly hurt? Or worse yet, dead?

Possibly.

Or maybe this crazy bond we forged on the island made her care about me as much as I do about her.

It’s probably just from the stress. The fear. Being forced to rely on each other to survive. Once this is over, and Tatum returns to her normal life again, I’ll be nothing but a distant memory. Maybe one she wishes she could forget.

Though logic says there’s no future for Tatum and me given the circumstances—the thousands of miles between Texas and New York, not to mention the fact that it’s most likely my fault she got dragged into this mess—it doesn’t mean I have to like it.Or not feel a pang of loss at the thought of never seeing Tatum again.

“Hey.” Dante’s expression softens as he meets my gaze. “Are you doing okay? Really? I know you said you were, but what you went through, and now with the hospital…”

“I’m fine.” It’s quick. Gruff. Pausing, I force a small smile before continuing, “Some bruises, nothing worse than I get when I’m sparring with your lazy asses. And I barely feel anything from the drugs they gave me. So I’m fine. I’m more concerned with figuring out the deal with that island. And making sure Tatum is safe.”

Dante stares at me for a second, worry flickering in his eyes. I know he’s concerned, and I get it. Even though I don’t talk about my PTSD or aversion to hospitals, he’s been with me through the worst of it. Dante was there when I was hurt in the explosion; held vigil at the hospital while he and the rest of my team waited for me to regain consciousness. He knows how hard I took it when I learned about the damage to my vision that yanked me off our team.

But my old friend also knows when not to push it. Lifting his chin, he takes on a more commanding tone as he says, “Well. We have more information now than we started with. So that’s a good thing, at least.”

“What did Cole say?” I ask. Cole, Rylan, and Leo—another member of the Sleepy Hollow team—stayed back to investigate the island while Niall and Dante took me and Tatum to the closest hospital.

“Last time I spoke to Cole, he said the police and Coast Guard had just arrived,” Dante replies.

Niall huffs with irritation. “Slowing things down, no doubt. Blocking us from our own investigation.”

“He had to call them in,” Dante tells him. “You know that.”

“I know,” Niall grumbles. But he still looks unhappy about it. Which I can understand given the times the police have let the people we cared about down. I have my own reservations about police involvement, though I understand the necessity of it. But unlike Blade and Arrow Security, the police are bound by rigid rules and miles of red tape. They can’t edge into the gray areas of legality while they’re investigating like we can.

Dante gives Niall a quick nod of understanding. “I get it. But at least Cole, Ry, and Leo got a chance to check out the island on their own, first.”

“Did Leo find anything with the camera feeds?” I ask. Leo’s the computer expert at the Sleepy Hollow branch, just like Matt is for ours, so if there was anything to find on the island, Leo would be the one to do it.

Dante shakes his head. “All the feeds were shut down. I’m guessing whoever’s behind this did it as soon as you breached the fence. But Leo managed to grab a few cameras to take back with us on the off chance he can find a clue after examining them.”

“What about the people still on the island?” Our first update from Cole came right after we arrived at the hospital, and at that point, they’d only just gotten back to the island and didn’t have much to report. But now that it’s been a couple of hours, I’m assuming—hoping—they found more useful information.

Dante turns to look into Tatum’s room. Satisfied that she’s still sleeping, he replies in a low tone, “Three dead. The one you found, with the spear. One who looked like he was shot by an automatic weapon. And another fell into a”—his jaw clenches—“pit with stakes in it.”

“Fuck,” Niall hisses.

My stomach hollows out. Fills with lead. A band wraps around my chest and squeezes.

Shit. That could have been me. Could have been Tatum. We could have wandered across a disguised hole without realizing and suffered the same fate.

An image flashes through my mind of Tatum laying there, stabbed by countless stakes, blood soaking her body and staining her golden hair red.

But I swallow back the surge of nausea the image brings. Take a steadying breath. Try to ignore the incessant beeping from a room down the hall and the clatter of wheels passing by us. “And the man who attacked us? The one I restrained?”

“Alive,” Dante answers. “But not coherent. From what Cole said, it sounds like the guy is suffering from trauma-based psychosis. He couldn’t give them anything useful. But we’re hoping after some time, he’ll be able to speak with us.”

I want to feel bad for the guy. I really do. But I can’t forget about the rock in his raised hand and how easily it could have hit Tatum.

“We need someone here,” Niall says. “At the hospital with the guy. Not just in case he talks, but in case someone comes back to finish him off.” He pauses. “Not to sound heartless here, but if he can give us anything that connects him to Erik or Tatum, some clue to why he was picked along with them…”

“Agreed.” Dante gives Niall a quick chin lift. “That leads me to the next part. First, who stays in Maine to keep abreast of the situation? Though we’re not going to be able to actively search the island anymore, we want to have someone here. Keeping on the police. Talking to possible witnesses. Checking surveillance cameras in the area.”

“I can,” Niall starts.

“No.” I turn to face him. “This could go on for weeks. You should be back in Texas with Declan and Jade.”

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