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Her words yanked him back to the moment when Odette had swung her gun toward Quinn. The terror flared, and he had to close his eyes to beat it back down.
“Are you okay?”
He opened his eyes to find worry clouding her face. “One hundred percent.” He wanted to pull her against him so he could feel the warmth and life thrumming in her, to smell the sweet scent of her hair, and find her lips with his. Instead, he raised her hand to brush his lips over the back of it. “I’m glad to be out of the hospital.”
“Is being there hard for you too?” she asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I hate hospitals.” She hesitated a moment. “They remind me of prison. You have to stay until someone in charge gives you permission to leave. I thought maybe…”
Understanding dawned. “The kidnapping! No, being confined in the tent felt different. Not institutional like a prison or a hospital.”
“That’s better for your health, then,” she said with a shaky smile.
Once again, fury boiled at the thought of her being imprisoned. “I’m sorry to have reminded you of that time in your life.”
“I need to get past it.” Her words seemed to carry an extra meaning he couldn’t decipher.
The limo glided to a stop in front of Quinn’s house.
“Please wait until I open the door,” the driver said before getting out.
“Standard security protocol when in an official limo,” Gabriel said when Quinn looked surprised.
In a few minutes, the door swung open, and a squad of guards escorted them to Quinn’s front door.
Once inside, Gabriel saw Quinn’s favorite leather jacket slung over the newel post. It reminded him of their first meeting, and he couldn’t resist running his hand over the soft black folds. “It’s good to be here.”
Quinn stepped in front of him, her gaze a searchlight on his face. “Are you really all right?”
“Now that I am here, yes. Just tired.”
She nodded. “It’s the aftermath of the adrenaline. You kind of crash. I’m feeling it, too, to be honest. You should go sit down.”
“Where are you going?” A spark of panic flickered.
“Just to change my clothes. These have been through a lot today.” She brushed the back of his hand in reassurance before she trotted up the stairs.
Gabriel walked into the kitchen area, trying to decide if he wanted water or something stronger to drink. He opened the refrigerator in search of a beer.
The interior light flashed in his eyes, and he felt time slide backward.
He was strapped down on the stretcher while the surgeon flicked his thumb back and forth.
No! Gabriel slammed his eyes shut as he leaned on the refrigerator door, fighting the memory. But time shifted again.
He was hurling himself off the sofa, his heart pounding with fear. He crashed to his knees on the stone floor of Finca de Bruma. He wouldn’t be able to reach Quinn before Odette pulled the trigger.
He forced his eyes open and saw where he knelt.
On tile, not stone.
He was back in the tent. The voice over the loudspeaker called him useless and worse. He shivered as cold air chilled the sweat beading his face.
“No. This isn’t real,” he muttered, trying to remember how to combat the flashbacks.
The surgeon picked up a scalpel. Gabriel surged to his feet, shaking his head, attempting to dodge the sharp blade. The masked face came closer.
