Page 26 of View from Above
“I can feel you staring at me.” The bruises and cuts following the line of her jaw shifted as she spoke. The soft tick of the monitor on the other side of the bed told him she was stable, but there were some scars that couldn’t be seen. Some that would stay with her for the rest of her life, and no matter how much he wanted to take away the pain, she’d have to face them on her own. Just as he’d had to. “When was the last time you got any sleep?”
After everything she’d been through, she wanted to know if he was taking care of himself. How did she do it? With all the evil, violent, greedy, and selfish things he’d witnessed people do to each other, how did she stand in the middle of the storm and not worry about her own survival? “I grabbed a couple hours on the pullout a little while ago.”
“Pullout? Don’t you have a bed for that kind of thing?” Mallory shifted against the mountain of pillows he’d stacked behind her head, and Payton automatically stood to help. “I’ve got it.” She flinched against the pain morphine wouldn’t be able to touch for a while. Tension bled into the corners of her eyes as she scanned the room. “Either this is the weirdest dream or I’m in a hospital bed.” Her gaze locked onto his. “Payton?”
“What?” he asked.
“What is happening right now?” Mallory moved to straighten. A groan escaped past her lips as she clamped onto her midsection, and Payton bolted to his feet to help. “What’s going on? Why am I here?”
“You don’t remember?” The sedative. Damn it. He’d forgotten the amnesic side effects she’d sustained the first three times she’d been dosed. The protective instinct he’d tried to deny reared its ugly head. He took his seat, forcing his nerves to settle. Two days. That was all it’d taken to throw out everything he’d believed about her, her father’s death, his choices leading him to this point in his life. In their place, a new level of respect.
And something more.
Something he’d never seen coming: hope.
Not just for this case, but for them. As partners. How many civilians could’ve faced down a killer—sedated, of all things—and survive being thrown over the side of a ten-story building? The women he’d brought into his life hadn’t meant anything beyond a single night here and there, but Mallory… She’d never be one of them. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re at Harborview Medical with a couple of broken ribs.”
Payton gripped the wooden arm rests of the chair to fight the burn clawing up his aching throat. The woman he’d fought on that rooftop had escaped. Because of him. Because he’d let his personal feelings for Mallory get in the way. “You were drugged. In your office. We went to search your calendar to narrow down the dates you’d been sedated before. We argued when you wouldn’t surrender a patient’s information, someone who might be responsible for drugging you the three times before today.”
“How long ago?” Her voice wavered as though terrified of facing the black hole in her memory, and Payton interlaced his hand with hers.
“About eight hours ago. The killer rolled you to the roof top of your office building in your chair. You fought, but she managed to throw you over the retaining wall. You sustained two broken ribs and a slight concussion but hung on for your life.” The nightmare of him and Wells racing to the tenth floor to pull her through the window tore into the moment. He shut down the tremors trying to get the best of him and kept his voice even despite the hell those terrifying minutes had wreaked on him. “The doctor who saw you wants to keep you overnight for observation.”
“I don’t… I don’t remember any of that.” Mallory fisted the sheets tucked across her hips. Her knees lifted as though she intended to bring them into her chest, but the pain would keep her immobile for a while. “Did I see who tried to kill me? Did I at least find out why they’re doing this?”
“You said she was one of his. Roland’s mistresses.” His heart shuddered in his chest. He’d given her his word he’d protect her, that whoever’d killed Virginia Green and Angie Green wouldn’t lay a hand on her. He’d failed. “Mallory, I’m sorry that I wasn’t able to get there in time. The last time we talked… I was upset you weren’t willing to share your patient’s identity. I left to check in with the building’s security team, but I should’ve stayed. I should’ve been there—”
She set three fingers against his mouth. “It’s okay. I know you did everything you could to make sure I got out of there alive.”
“You said you didn’t remember anything.” Payton wrapped his hand around hers, holding it pressed to his face.
“I don’t,” she said. “I just know you.”
The killer’s words super imposed over Mallory’s until he wasn’t sure who’s voice had set up residence in his head. I know you go home every night alone and obsess over the cases you couldn’t solve. And I know you’re not going to be the one to stop me.
His mouth dried, and he cleared his throat. Releasing his hold on her hand, Payton struggled to pull himself back from the fear strangling him as effectively as the killer had. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Yes, I do.” Mallory set her head back against the pillows and closed her eyes. “You’re the most frustrating man I’ve ever met and the only person I trust to see this through to the end. You put my needs and safety first without any consideration for your own. You make a hell of an apple cinnamon French toast I’ll never be able to forget no matter how many times I lose my memory. And it’s really annoying how you turn me on with that look you get when you’re trying to work out a complicated detail.” She cracked her eyes, studying him.
Confusion rippled through him. “I don’t know what you’re talking—”
“That look.” She pointed to his face. “Stop it. I’m in a hospital bed with two broken ribs and a concussion, for crying out loud.” Her smile stretched her lacerated bottom lip and broke the scab. “You’re just going to torment me, and it won’t end well for either of us.”
“Is all that based off your professional opinion?” It took everything he had left after limited sleep and little-to-no food to believe her. It didn’t matter how many cases he’d solved over the past decade during his time with Seattle PD. His father’s disappearance—and his inability to find the bastard—would cast doubt on every investigation he took on.
“No. Despite popular belief, I don’t analyze anyone unless I’m getting paid.” She closed her eyes again, the exhaustion a physical marker in her features, but quickly recovered. “But that’s not an invitation to hand me another wad of cash again.”
He raised his hands in surrender. The pain in his own injuries flared, but they were nothing compared to what Mallory had survived. “I learned my lesson the first time.” He scanned her from head to toe as he had so many times while she’d slept. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’m the butt of a joke I don’t understand.” She smoothed the blankets with the hand that wasn’t sporting the heart rate monitor and blood pressure cuff. “I’m trying to fill the missing holes in my memory, but it’s just… blackness. What if I could identify the woman who tried to kill me? What if I saw her face or learned she really did have something to do with my father’s death? There’s just nothing.” Tears glimmered in her eyes. “What if I could’ve stopped this from happening to someone else?”
“Hey.” Payton slid his hand beneath hers, unable to keep his distance any longer. “That responsibility is not on you, Mallory. None of this is. You survived, and that’s all I care about right now. If you identified the killer before the sedative’s effects erased your memory, then we’ll find another way to get the same information. We’ll stop her.”
She swiped at her face. “This has been happening for weeks, and I had no idea. How can you trust me to—”
“Because even with only a fraction of your memories of the past few weeks, you’re still ahead of most of the detectives I’ve partnered with in the past. You might not believe it, but you’re our best chance of finding who’s behind this.” He traced the gauze wrapped around her injured hand. “You said it yourself, you’re not going to stop until you see this through, and neither am I. With my full cognitive abilities and your broken ones, we can finish this. Together. Okay?”
Sniffling, Mallory nodded, and the tears dried. “You might have to remind me of a few things along the way.”