Night Visions (Night Series) (21 page)

Why weren't they healing yet? How long was it supposed to take?

The chime of Ian's cell phone drew her eyes to the floor. Stretching, her fingertips grazed the plastic case. Using her elbow, she dragged herself forward. She choked back the bile rising in her throat when her shoulder bumped against the seat. The bones grinding together. Fighting the pain
, she wiggled her fingers until they wrapped around the phone. Her head turned toward the door, as it was wrenched open. The car shook when the fractured metal fell to the ground. Thinking it was Trent, her relief was short lived when in his place stood a man with a scar sliced across his cheek. His teeth bared in a scowl.

She pushed off the seat, ignoring the fire in her calf. Curling her body
, she tried to roll onto the seat next to Cara. Blinking, Cara's mouth moved, but no sound came out. Sam grabbed her leg, but the man gripped her ankle, pulling her toward the door. Sam kicked at him, her heel hitting him in the jaw, yet he didn't flinch. She screamed as his fingers closed around her bandaged leg, tearing her wound open.

Ian stirred in his seat, moaning his eyes fluttered, then closed.

“Ian!” she screamed, reaching for him, her hand grasped air. It was too late. The man threw her over his shoulder. She grunted as her breath left her body. His footsteps heavy as he walked toward a black van. Her vision faded in and out with each step he took.

“Ian!” She extended her arm
, praying he would reach out and pull her back. Hope blossomed inside when she saw his door open. He stumbled out, his eyes locking on hers. As she was tossed into the van, Ian disappeared from her vision.

Th
e last thing she saw before the door slammed shut, were three men descending on the Rover.

CHAPTER 19

Sam snuggled into Ian's warm chest. She ignored the hot throbbing in her leg. Instead, she focused on the strong arms that supported her body. The soft cotton of his shirt brushed against her cheek as he carried her, the chill air nipping at her nose. She must have fallen asleep on the way to Trent's.

“Who did this to her?" a familiar voice ground out. "Find them and bring them to me. She was supposed to be brought in unharmed.”

Wait…
What? That's not Ian.

She opened weighted lids, hoping to see those hazel eyes she loved. The clear blue eyes staring back at her were marred with a frown.

“Scott?” she whispered, too weak to say anything more.

“Shh Sam." His voice soothed her, like a parent comforting a child after a horrible nightmare. Curling his arms under her, he pulled her tighter against his chest. "You're safe now. No one will hurt you.”

He shouldered the door open, taking brisk steps until he eased her on a soft bed. The four walls surrounding her were unfamiliar. A wave of panic spread over her at the scent of diluted bleach. Had someone just cleaned this room?

"Where am I?"

"You're at my house. You were in an accident." Scott turned to the open door. “Where's the doctor?”

Heavy footsteps retreated down the carpeted hall. Who was Scott talking to? The thick fog in her head made it difficult to focus. Her dreams blended into reality.

"Ian and Cara…are they okay?" It was only one of the many questions racing through her mind. She wanted to know more. Wanted to know who the strange men were. The ones that showed up at the accident. Did Scott know them? He spoke to someone about her being unharmed. Did he have something to do with what happened to her? She would voice all of these questions if only she could form the words on her tongue.

Scott gently swept her hair from her face. His breath warm against her ear. "I won't let anything happen to you
, Sam."

While the words should have comforted her, they did anything but. This couldn't be happening. Not with Scott. He was her best friend. She refused to believe he could be a part of this. Whatever this was. Why wait until now? He had plenty of chances to harm her. No. But hadn't everything else in her life been a lie? Why not her relationship with him too?

He stood abruptly. His softened features now hardened as he stared at the door. Sam moaned in pain, as she tried to turn over and see who had drawn his anger. What little strength she had proved useless. Strong hands held her down as she felt the prick of a needle in her arm.

Her body grew warmer with each passing second. Or was it minutes? She couldn't really say for sure. Then everything blurred together.

Including Scott's face.

* * *

Soft voices penetrated the haze in Sam's mind. Hushed so as not to disturb her. She pretended to be asleep so she could get her bearings. But the more the voices talked, the harder it became to lie there silent. She had questions that needed answers. Not to mention she wanted to punch whoever was involved in the current conversation.

They were talking about someone being captured and placed in a room down the hall. That she put up a fight and was wounded. Who were they talking about?

Please don't let it be Cara. And what about Ian? Why would Scott want to harm either one of them?

Carefully moving her hands, she let out a low moan to indicate she was waking up. Footsteps scuffed against the floor, growing louder as they hurried to the side of the bed. Cracking her eyes open
, the blinding light had her squeezing them shut against the pain.

One of the voices barked to the other, ordering them to dim the lights. A hand caressed her cheek before resting on her shoulder. She opened her eyes
, peering up into Scott's.

“Water,” she croaked. It hurt to swallow, much less talk.

A straw was pressed to her lips as she tried to drag the cool liquid into her mouth. She managed to get a few sips down before her stomach began to convulse. Scott rolled her to her side so she didn't choke on what little remained in her stomach.

Once the retching subsided
, he rolled her back onto the bed and wiped a damp cloth over her forehead. “Would you like to rinse your mouth?”

She nodded, letting him place the straw to her lips again. Sucking in a mouth full, she swished then spit it into a bucket he placed below her chin. How could he be a part of this? He seemed so sincere in his feelings for her. Had made their friendship a priority since the moment they met. Had all that been a lie? An attempt to get close to her so he could make
this
move.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“We had to sedate you. The doctor stitched your wound, but it already seems to be healing.”

Good answer. But could she believe him?

"What are you doing here?" Sam turned her head toward the door where she found a man standing with his arms crossed over his chest. There was nothing familiar about him, but her gut still churned at his presence.

She followed his intense gaze until Scott cleared his throat. He frowned at the man standing sentry, tipping his head toward the door. The man nodded, took a step back into the hall, and pulled the door closed behind him.

Scott brushed a few strands of hair from her face, working his fingers through the matted mess. "I was worried about you, Sam. You didn't return my last two calls."

"But I told you I was fine."

The tenderness in his eyes faded as he removed his hand. Coming to a stand, he stepped toward the window. "Obviously, you weren't." His fists clenched at his side. "Why did you lie to me? Why didn't you tell me where you were going?"

Sam avoided his question, unsure of where she stood with him at the moment. One wrong word could send him over the edge. "Why am I here?"

Silence hung thick in the air until Scott finally answered. His voice stone cold. "My father brought you here."

"Your father?" Scott rarely talked about his father. She didn't know much about him except that Scott only visited him when necessary. Whenever she would bring up the topic of his dad, Scott would change the subject.

Her heart always hung heavy for him and his lack of family. Hers embraced him as one of their own. Welcoming him, no questions asked. Now she wondered if her friendship blinded her.

Scott's face turned to the side, though his eyes hadn't moved from the window. She could still see the conflict pinching his face. "It's complicated."

"Well uncomplicate it," she snapped.

Scott shoved his fingers through his hair, his eyes apologetic. "I wish it were that easy. Look
, I don't have the time to tell you now. You need to heal so I can get you out of here before my father returns."

Was this going to be how the rest of her life played out? Everyone knowing what was happening in her life but her? Everyone telling her to wait. And what did his father have to do with any of this? What the hell would he want with her?

"I'm sick of being led around like a puppet and everyone thinking they know what's best for me."

"I'm not trying to coddle you, Sam, but if we don't get out of here…"

A sharp rap on the door startled her.

"Give me a minute," Scott ordered. The tone he directed to the others here sounded completely foreign to her ears. The man she new to be kind, patient, and funny was now disciplined, tense and angry.

"What's happened to you?"

Ignoring her question, Scott approached the door, his hand resting on the knob. "The sooner you heal, the sooner we can leave here."

Sam pushed herself up against the pillows, surprised that the pain in her leg and shoulder had eased. "Well that's going to be a problem. I don't know how to heal yet."

"I can help you with that." His eyes left hers, darting toward the foot of the bed. "You're already going through the transition. The healing has begun."

The drug's effects stalled her reaction to his statement. She just found out what she was. Scott acted like he knew all along. "How do you know this?" she snapped. Something didn't feel right. The pieces to the puzzle were there, just out of her reach.

"I know you're having doubts right now." He pressed his back against the door, the deep breath he sucked in making his chest rise then fall. His eyes met with hers, piercing her to the bed. "If I was going to hurt you, wouldn't I have done it by now?"

"I don't know anything anymore." And obviously, she didn't know the people in her life. But if he could get her out of there, then she would have to trust that Ian would find her. "After going through all of the trouble to get me here, why would you want to help me leave?" Was this another trick to gain her trust?

"I told you my father was the one that kidnapped you. Thankfully
, I was here to intercept."

"What about Ian and Cara? Do you know if they are okay? Before the van left, I saw three others walking toward them."

"I honestly don't know. The men haven't reported back yet."

Sam studied Scott for any hint of deception, but couldn't find one. Either he was a very good liar or he was telling the truth. But hadn't he lied to her for years? Knowing what she was and not saying a word. Hadn't Ian done the same thing and she forgave him? Had Jason told him and sworn him to secrecy too? Or did Jason send him to find her and protect her? Adirah told her not to trust
him
. But who did she mean? Scott or Ian?

The pressure in her head began to build, nearly blinding her. With so many unanswered questions, she didn't even know how to begin sorting them out. She still couldn't figure out how Scott fit in to all of this.

"Focus your mind on your leg. Envision the wound closing. I'll try to find more information about your friends." Before she could ask another question, he left the room, the door closing softly behind him.

Blowing out a breath
, Sam tipped her head back toward the ceiling. Could she trust Scott was telling the truth? That he would really help her leave? Or was he just saying that to appease her.

No. She was finished putting her life in the hands of others.

Sam leaned forward, carefully unwrapping the clean bandage around her calf until she revealed dozens of tiny, neat stitches. The wound didn't even look fresh. Scott was right. The wound had begun to heal.

Swinging her legs off the bed, the cool floor greeted her feet, soothing the fire in her soul. Inhaling she pushed herself up, putting most of her weight on her good leg. When she felt confident it could support her, she limped toward the door. Testing the knob, she was surprised when it twisted freely in her hand.

So she wasn't a prisoner?

Pulling the door open, she found the hallway deserted. No guard either. Voices carried from the right. Avoiding them, she walked in the opposite direction. The first door she tried was a guest bathroom. The open door across from it was empty. She continued down the hall, stopping at the next room. Turning the knob she pushed the door in.

A young woman sat curled in a chair, staring out the window. Once the door creaked, she gave Sam a wide-eyed glance. Why did she look so surprised to see her? Tear-stained cheeks revealed the pain in her heart. Pain that Sam wanted to understand.

A want that haunted her when the young woman whispered, "You're alive…".