Page 65 of Danger Close

“Teresa LouiseGuerro.” He enunciated every syllable of my name.

“Here we go.” She rubbed her hands together, stepping away from the side of the bed.. “You ready for this?”

“Ready for what?” I whispered to her, but she didn’t answer me.

“Sir, can you prove that she’s your wife?” The nurse. Cobra’s heavy boot stomps were accentuated by the nurse’s hurried ones.

“Proof? You want fucking proof?” Cobra shouted. I heard fabric, or leather, scraping. Something hard and plastic snapped. “See that name? Joaquin AnatolyGuerro!She has my last name, and I'm not old enough to be her father, nor am I young enough to be her son. She’s definitely not my sister. So where is my wife? The mother of my child? I know she was taken here!”

“Sir, I need you to calm down.” The nurse’s voice was less-than-calm herself.

“I will calm the fuck down when I see mywife!”

“We’re in here, Cobra!” Charlotte called, the smile still pulling at her lip, splitting it even further until a trickle of blood fell down her chin. “Stop terrorizing the staff.”

The curtain separating me from the rest of the Emergency Room flew open. A terrifying, massive, furious Cobra stood in the opening, his nostrils flared, his graying hair wild like he’d been running his hand through it.

I yelped, fear coursing through my veins, flinching from the heat of his anger, lifting my hands to my head.

“Princess?” His voice was gentle, his fingers sweet as they caressed the back of my hands.

“I’m sorry!” I apologized first. I apologizedalways.

I had thought I still had my pride, but I’d given that up a long, long time ago. I just wanted to live. I wanted to survive. If bowing and begging for mercy got me there, then so be it. So be it…

“Jesus,” Cobra breathed out, as he reached for me. “Jesus Christ, what did they do to you?”

I held my breath as he pried my hands from my face.

He was a different man from the one that had torn the curtains open. The face that looked at me was filled with fear, hurt… sadness? I wasn’t sure. It broke my heart.

“I’m okay.” This time, I apologized to soothe the worry from his handsome face.

His lips pressed into a line, as his eyes went down to my throat, bruised from Ponytail’s forearm, and down further to the hospital gown that covered everything else.

“I’ll be okay. They didn’t do any permanent damage.” It was all I could say as I turned my hand so that our fingers could interlace. Comfort heated from where we connected.

“Give me a name.” His command rippled through me and I almost said it.Raymond Clark.

But the threat in the form of three letters was written on my skin. The message hisfriendshad left.

I swallowed, settling on a truth because his piercing eyes would be able to detect my lies. “I don’t know who attacked us. I’ve never seen them before.”

Without letting my hand go, Cobra turned to Charlotte. “Do you have a name? Description.”

Charlotte sat down in an uncomfortable looking chair, one ankle crossed over her knee.

“First man was 6’2”, long black hair, kept in a ponytail. Asian, brown eyes. Probably around 190 lbs in his mid-30’s.” She rattled off more descriptions as if this was a routine thing she had to answer. “Second man was caucasian, mid-40’s, but might be older. It was dark. Black hair, probably Mediterranean. 5’11”, looking about 180 lbs. Gray eyes. Had a scar down his right eye—”

“Vertical or horizontal?” Cobra interrupted.

“Diagonal,” she continued. “Third man was the shortest. Probably 5’8”. A bit larger, maybe mid-40’s, wore a brown bomber jacket, brown hair, green eyes.”

“Who hurt her the most?” he asked.

“The Asian man.” Their conversation went on without pause. “Then the one with the scar. Those were the onesMrs. Guerrofought off.”

She said my name with strange emphasis, her amused eyes sparkling.