Forgotten Memories. Laura ScottЧитать онлайн книгу.
that consisted of working, eating, sleeping and then working some more. Sometimes she read mysteries and tried to get some running in, but not very often. As the youngest trauma surgeon on staff, she was expected to take a good portion of the late-night and weekend shifts.
Her social life was nonexistent, which was the way she liked it. She’d avoided personal relationships since her residency, unable to fully trust that she wouldn’t become another victim again. Besides, she didn’t need a man interfering with her goal of dedicating her life to helping others.
She couldn’t imagine what she’d done to make anyone, especially a guy named Creighton, angry enough to do something like this. The more she thought about it, the more she believed these Neanderthals had grabbed the wrong person. This couldn’t possibly be about her. Yet being innocent wasn’t going to spare her life. If they didn’t rape her, they’d likely kill her.
Sooner than later.
But she wasn’t dead yet and just the idea of this being a potential sexual assault made her determined not to give up without a fight. She tried once again to grasp the handle of the scalpel and this time managed to hang on long enough to inch it up into the palm of her hand. Now she needed to figure out how to get the cover off the blade without slicing herself.
Abruptly the driver turned right onto a dirt road and the momentum made her fall against the guy on her left. Somehow she managed to hang on to the scalpel even when the guy harshly shoved her back upright.
“Hope you’re ready to cooperate with Creighton,” the guy on her left sneered. “Don’t bother trying to fight him—he’s used to getting what he wants.”
Gabby had no idea what that meant, and didn’t particularly want to find out. Desperately, she inched the handle of the scalpel farther into her hands until she could feel the edge of the plastic cover shielding the blade.
As the truck came to a stop in a small clearing, she managed to push the cover off the end without hurting herself. She did her best to keep the tip pointed down and hidden beneath the edge of her lab coat.
If either one of these men with guns looked at her hands too closely, they might see her meager weapon.
And then it would be game over.
The thug to her right slid out of the backseat first and then stood outside and gestured with his gun. “Get out.”
Gabby swallowed hard around the gag and scooted awkwardly across the bench seat, trying not to give in to the overwhelming sense of doom.
Despite having worked a twenty-four-hour shift, she needed to stay focused, ready to react at the right moment. The scalpel in her hands wasn’t much, but maybe, just maybe she’d catch these guys off guard long enough to run away. She hoped that the Creighton guy they talked about wasn’t standing there waiting for her.
The fact that she was wearing a white lab coat wouldn’t exactly help her hide for long. White was easy to see in the darkness of the night. Gabby winced. Why hadn’t she changed her clothes? It was obviously too late to wallow in regrets now.
“Hurry up,” the guy said with impatience.
The truck sat high off the ground, forcing her to jump down awkwardly. She stumbled and staggered off to the side, remaining bent over as she stayed on her feet, hiding the fact that she was still gripping the scalpel.
“Where do you think you’re going?” the guy growled, crossing over to where she was standing.
She obviously couldn’t answer with the gag in her mouth. There was no one else in the clearing, and the second guy was still making his way out of the car, so when the first guy came closer, she figured it was now or never. His jacket was open and he only wore a thin T-shirt beneath it. Gabby brought her bound hands upward, shoving the tip of the scalpel into his upper abdomen with all the force she could muster. He let out a howl of pain and doubled over, so she immediately turned and ran toward the trees.
Pop! Pop! The sound of gunfire echoed around her like fireworks on the Fourth of July, and she braced herself for searing pain even as she ducked behind the trees.
No pain yet, or maybe she was just too numb to feel it. She kept going, frustrated that she couldn’t get out of the lab coat with her hands tied in front of her, and worse, she’d inadvertently dropped the scalpel. Desperately she pushed farther into the woods, not even caring that she probably sounded like an elephant barging through the forest. She purposefully chose the dense areas in an attempt to use the brush for cover.
And while she normally wasn’t the type to pray, she found herself doing just that.
* * *
Shane crouched in the bed of the truck closest to the passenger side, watching and waiting for the right time to make his move. One guy got out from the backseat first and then told Gabriella to do the same, waving his gun at her in a way that made him clench his teeth in anger. If that guy hurt her... He couldn’t bear to finish that thought.
Moving slowly, Shane rose to his feet, plastering himself against the black truck in time to see Gabriella jump down and then stumble off to the side, putting space between herself and the first assailant.
Good job, he thought proudly, willing her to keep her distance if possible.
When the man who’d gotten out of the truck first moved closer to Gabriella, Shane pulled his weapon from his shoulder holster and waited for the second guy to get out, knowing that he’d have a better chance if he took care of both gunmen at the same time.
He was concentrating on the second perp, so he missed what happened. But when the guy closest to Gabriella howled in pain, Shane couldn’t help feeling a surge of satisfaction. Using the distraction to his advantage, he turned and fired at the second kidnapper, who’d just gotten out of the truck. When the perp fell backward, Shane turned his attention to the man who was doubled over in pain. He didn’t know how badly the guy was hurt, but since he was still on his feet, Shane shot him, before jumping down to the ground. Gabriella was already running into the trees, her white lab coat shining like a beacon as it flapped behind her.
He sprinted after Gabriella as more gunfire erupted from behind him. No doubt the driver, along with the two guys who must not be as injured as he’d thought.
Shane let her run for a bit, knowing they needed to cover a lot of ground, but when she glanced back at him, obviously afraid she was being followed, he understood she assumed he was one of the bad guys.
He caught up, reaching out to grab Gabriella’s arm. She swung at him with her bound wrists, her eyes wild.
“It’s me, Shane Hawkins,” he whispered, hoping she remembered him. “I’m a cop and I’m here to help.”
For a moment she stared at him, as if trying to see his face clearly in the dark. His SWAT uniform must have helped reassure her, because suddenly she sagged against him.
He was tempted to hold her reassuringly, but there was no time. Shane gripped her arm and urged her to continue moving. He’d caught a glimpse of the gag around her mouth and her bound wrists, but right now, putting distance between them and the gunmen was more important than freeing her.
Gabriella must have understood because she kept pace alongside him as they made their way farther into the woods. He wove a zigzag path going as fast as he dared, finally stopping behind two trees at what he estimated was a good seventy yards from the clearing.
He holstered his weapon and reached for his knife. “We need to get you out of that lab coat,” he murmured.
She nodded, her eyes wide as she held up her bound wrists. He cut through the rope, feeling helpless at the way she winced as blood rushed back into her fingers. He then reached up to untie the gag. She dragged in a harsh breath and it occurred to him that running while being gagged must have been grueling. When Gabriella was finally free, she shucked out of the lab coat, shivering in her thin dark green scrubs.
“Here,” Shane whispered. He quickly removed his black jacket and guided