Page 39 of Nica (Texas Boudreau Brotherhood #17)

T he world came back into focus slowly, like a photograph developing in reverse.

Nica’s vision cleared from the edges inward, and the first thing she registered was the throb in her chest, a deep, angry ache that reminded her she’d had surgery only two days prior.

The second thing she noticed was that she wasn’t in her hospital room anymore.

She was sitting in what looked like an abandoned warehouse, her wheelchair positioned in the center of a large, empty space.

Concrete floors, rusted metal beams overhead, and the musty smell of disuse filled her senses.

She wasn’t in Shiloh Springs anymore. There wasn’t anywhere within the town’s limits that had an empty warehouse of this size, or in this condition.

It wasn’t the warehouse that scared her though.

It was the man standing several feet away that made her blood run cold.

Julian Banner.

Even without having seen him before, she knew it was him.

She’d heard his name right before everything went nuts in her room.

Dusty told her the truth—the truth her husband and her family had kept from her.

They’d figured out who’d been doing all the nasty things to both her and Gabe over the past few months.

There was something in his posture, the way he held himself like a predator circling wounded prey, that screamed danger.

He was older than she’d expected—late forties or maybe mid-fifties, with graying hair and lines around his eyes that spoke of a deep-seated grief that had turned to obsession.

His clothes were expensive but slightly rumpled, as she wondered if he’d been living out of a suitcase.

He might have been, since the FBI and other computer experts hadn’t been able to find him.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice carrying a slight rasp. “Good. I was beginning to think they gave you too much sedative.”

Nica’s throat felt like sandpaper, but she forced herself to speak.

“Well, this is cozy.” The sarcasm came naturally, a defense mechanism she’d relied on her whole life.

“I have to say, your hospitality leaves something to be desired. The five-star kidnapping experience usually includes better accommodations. This,” she waved her hand toward the walls, “looks like something my momma wouldn’t even carry on her books.

Of course, she’s particular in who she deals with. ”

Banner’s mouth twitched—not quite a smile, but close. “Still got that smart mouth, I see. Gabe mentioned that.”

When would Gabe have talked to Julian about her? Nope there’s no way my husband told this kidnapping jerk anything about me. Oh, wait, he duped our phones, I bet he’s listened in on everything we’ve ever said.

“Oh, so are you two pen pals now?” Nica shifted in the wheelchair, trying to gauge how much strength she had. Not much, judging by the way her arms trembled with the small movement. “How sweet. Do you braid each other’s hair too?”

“Do you think this is a joke?” Banner’s voice sharpened. “You think what your husband did to Melissa was funny?”

“I think,” Nica said, meeting his stare head-on, “that you’re a sad, pathetic man who’s so consumed with grief that you can’t see straight. And I think you need to hear some hard truths.”

Banner took a step closer, his hands clenching into fists. “Hard truths? Like how your precious husband killed the woman I loved?”

“Gabe didn’t kill anyone.” Nica’s voice held the conviction she felt, her belief in her husband, despite her physical weakness. “But you already know that, don’t you? Deep down, you know the truth of what happened, but it’s easier to blame him than to accept that sometimes terrible things happen.”

“Terrible things?” Banner’s voice rose. “Terrible things don’t include a surgeon operating while high on drugs!”

“You’re absolutely right,” Nica said, and she saw surprise flash across his face.

“What happened to your fiancée is something that should never have happened. Melissa didn’t deserve to die.

And I am truly sorry for your loss. But you’re still refusing to see the whole picture, to know there were two victims in that operating room that morning.

You know what happened, and you are refusing to accept the truth. ”

Banner went very still. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Nica leaned forward slightly, ignoring the sharp pain in her chest. “Gabe was drugged without his knowledge. Someone—and if you followed the investigation held by both the hospital and the California Medical Board, you know exactly who—slipped ketamine into his coffee before the surgery. Gabe was a victim, just like Melissa.”

“That’s a lie.” But Banner’s voice lacked conviction now.

“Is it? Did you even bother to read the full investigation report? The toxicology results? The testimony from the anesthesiologist who stopped the procedure the moment he realized something was wrong? The director of nursing who reported the findings of the OR nurses present in the operating room?” Nica’s voice gained strength as she spoke, fueled by anger and determination.

“Or did you just latch onto the first part—the part where Gabe was found to have drugs in his system—and stop reading?”

Banner’s jaw worked silently for a moment. “He was responsible—”

“He was drugged by someone else! Dr. Marcus Richardson, a man who took shortcuts and was lazy with his records and with his procedures. Made mistakes and blamed others. He wanted a scapegoat, and because Gabe was the new man at the practice, he thought he could sabotage Gabe, tarnish his image and maybe get him fired from the practice. Dr. Richardson drugged Gabe’s coffee before he went in to operate on Melissa.

If you’d read the reports, you’d know there was a witness who saw him do it.

The California Medical Board cleared my husband of all charges.

The hospital’s internal investigation found no fault with his actions once they realized what had happened.

” Nica’s chest was burning now, but she pushed through it.

“Gabe lost his career, his reputation, everything he’d worked for his entire life.

He left the state, left everything behind, and came to Shiloh Springs to start over.

But that wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

“Melissa is dead.” Banner’s voice cracked slightly. “Nothing will change that.”

“Yes, she is. And I’m sorry for that—I truly am. Losing someone you love is devastating. But destroying an innocent man won’t bring her back. It won’t make your pain go away. It just creates more pain, more victims.”

“You don’t understand—”

“I understand perfectly.” Nica cut him off.

“You’re so eaten up with grief and guilt that you can’t think straight.

You’ve allowed it to guide all your actions from the moment you lost Melissa.

Allowed the hate to build until it consumed you, leaving you hollow inside.

You need someone to blame because the alternative—accepting that sometimes bad things happen to good people for no reason at all—is too hard to bear. ”

Banner’s face contorted with rage. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Don’t I?” Nica’s voice softened slightly. She knew she’d poked and prodded enough. It was time to change tactics. “Tell me about her. Tell me about Melissa.”

The request seemed to catch Banner off guard. For a moment, his mask slipped, and she saw the raw pain underneath. “She was…she was my everything. We were supposed to get married right after the surgery. She had the dress picked out, the flowers, everything planned.”

“She sounds wonderful,” Nica said genuinely. “How long were you together?”

“Three years.” Banner’s voice was barely above a whisper now.

“I proposed on her birthday, and we started making plans. We were going to be a family. I was going to adopt her two children.” His voice caught at the mention of Melissa’s kids, and he took a deep breath before continuing.

“She got sick. The gallbladder attacks were so bad she couldn’t even stand up straight.

The surgery was supposed to be routine, simple.

She was supposed to come home the next day. ”

“But something went wrong during the surgery,” Nica prompted gently.

“She had a reaction to the anesthesia. The anesthesiologist said they did everything right, that there was no way to predict it, but…”

“I know. Unlike you, I did read all the records you sent me. The problem with the anesthesia was corrected immediately. The issue was with the incisions. I understand Gabe was impaired, but the incisions were too deep, causing massive blood loss. Every effort was made to correct this, including calling in another surgeon. They tried everything, but they couldn’t save Melissa.

And ever since you’ve blamed Gabe. He became the target for your anger. ”

“He took drugs! He was high as a kite and still went into the operating room!” Banner exploded suddenly. “His reflexes were slowed, his judgment compromised. If he’d been operating at full capacity, maybe he would have caught the signs sooner, maybe—”

“Maybe nothing would have changed,” Nica interrupted firmly.

Banner stared at her, his chest heaving. “She bled to death. That’s all on your husband.”

“You’re right, Melissa bled to death. There was nothing that could be done to save her.

But nobody knew Gabe had been drugged, including Gabe.

Nobody noticed the signs he was impaired until it was too late.

And that’s the point—if they couldn’t tell at the time, in the operating room—you cannot blame him.

But instead of accepting that fact, you’ve let the loss eat at you like a cancer, until the only thing that made sense to you was vengeance.

You needed to make Gabe pay, because that was the only thing that made any of it make sense in your mind. ”