Julie Miller - Kansas City Countdown

Or was someone at home the danger she needed to fear? The person who’d gotten so angry that he or she had tried to kill her? How should she handle this? What was her next step? How was she supposed to know who to trust?

“Take a breath,” she warned herself before panic reclaimed her.

Kenna hugged her arms around the thin cotton of her gown and glanced around the room, looking for answers. Looking for someone to talk to. Looking for a friend or sympathetic doctor or polite detective or anyone who could keep this helpless, lonely feeling from seeping in as surely as the air-conditioned chill that dotted her skin with goose bumps.

She had a feeling she wasn’t used to relying on others to take care of her. Kenna eyed the soiled remains from treating her injuries that the nurse had wheeled into the corner. She wasn’t used to being weak like this, forced to put her trust in people she didn’t know. Had she put her trust in the wrong person, making herself a sitting duck who’d had no clue she was about to be attacked?

Fear crawled across her skin as the knowledge she would have to trust someone to help her through this sank in. Where was home? How was she supposed to get there? What was she supposed to do with herself the next morning? And the day after that?

Her gaze drifted over to the ER room’s metal door. She’d put her trust in Keir Watson tonight. Not that he’d left her much choice. He’d allowed her a token argument, then had swept her up into his arms, bundled her into his car and driven her here. But she could have asked him to leave the treatment room at any time, and she hadn’t. She wanted him with her.

Crazy as it seemed, Kenna knew Keir better than anyone else in her life. Once she’d come to and realized her brain had turned into Swiss cheese, it felt as if her whole life had reset. There was the time before the assault where her memory was riddled with empty spaces and vague shadows, and there was the time after—when she’d stumbled into Keir Watson’s arms. He was the person she’d known the longest in the part of her life she was more certain of. And his abrupt departure to chat with his partner left her feeling about as vulnerable and confused and alone as she’d been when she first woke up with her cheek in a puddle of her own blood on the cold, gritty concrete.

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