Page 56 of The Heat is On
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Alicia said though captured breaths. “You’re going to be in big trouble, Darryl.”
“You’re worth it, babe.”
Rio shook his head.
“Don’t worry. FBI here is going to take care of us,” Darryl said. “He’ll get me out of trouble.”
Oh boy.
“Listen, Darryl,” Rio said. “When we get to the clinic, just…well, we don’t want to raise any attention. I don’t know if the marshals have reported our escapes, but they usually alert local hospitals and clinics in case anyone has been injured during the escape. So…keep your head down, and I’ll contact my people as soon as I can.”
“I’m staying with Alicia,” Darryl said, predictably.
The clinic was located on a hill just off the highway, a long shed-like building with a wheelchair ramp to the Urgent Care door, a garage for an ambulance, a chopper pad in the back, and a black SUV in the parking lot. Rio pulled up near the emergency door and hopped out, coming around to help Alicia.
Darryl had pulled her into his arms and was marching up the ramp. The doors opened, and Rio did a quick scan of the area. No cops.
He followed Darryl inside the small clinic to the reception area. They took one look at Alicia and directed her into a nearby exam room. Darryl joined her.
Rio stood, staring inside the room, scrubbing his hand down his face, when they pulled a privacy screen.
Perfect. Because he didn’t put it above Darryl to try to run again.
But probably not with his wife in labor.
Rio needed a phone. And a shower. And…well, he wouldn’t mind knowing if Skye was okay.
Please. Because he couldn’t get out of his head the fear that she would head right back to the fire line, dive back into danger.
He knew her. She wouldn’t give up if she knew she could save lives.
“Hands up! Don’t move!”
The voice froze him, and he brought his hands out, slowly, clasping them behind his head. Turning.
A US marshal—dark hair, the size of a linebacker—stood behind him, holding a Glock. He wore anI-mean-itlook on his face.
Oh, perfect.
“Listen—”
“On your knees.”
He obeyed.
“Get down, on your face, hands behind your back.”
“Listen—”
“Now!”
Rio blew out a breath, lay on the floor, his cheek against the cool tile, and submitted as the big man put a knee into his back and cuffed him.
He hauled him up, and Rio turned to him. “Listen, I’m not who you think I am—”
“I think you’re an escaped felon who’s going back to prison for a very long time.” The big man looked at the nurse. “Do you have a lunchroom or somewhere I can put him?”
The poor woman stared at Rio, wide-eyed. Nodded. Pointed to a nearby room.