Page 43 of Valor (Long Hot Summer: Christian Romantic Suspense #2)

GIBSON

Aside from learning the emails were sent from Lani’s computer, we have nothing. Apparently, every nurse in the hospital has access to that office because it’s where they drop off charts throughout the day. Anyone could have gotten into her computer at any point during the day or night.

And with how busy she and Dr. Pierce are, they would have likely had hours to do it.

The brothers have all gone home empty-handed as well, all of them ready to meet me at the precinct first thing in the morning so we can go right back to square one. Retracing our steps until something makes sense.

I’ll tear apart this town if I have to, and tomorrow is the day I start.

Door by door.

Brick by brick.

I will find her.

And God help the one who took her. I clench my hands into fists at my sides and stare up at the cross sitting atop the altar in our town’s small church.

“Gibson, how are you holding up?” Pastor Ford takes a seat on the pew beside me. His gray hair is shorter on the sides and longer on the top, though tonight it’s disheveled, as though he’s been running his hands through it.

“Not great,” I admit. I’ve been seeing the pastor weekly ever since my divorce, trying to move past the pain and damage Kleo left behind when she cheated and took off on me. “I’m angry,” I tell him. “And seriously wishing I could get my hands on whoever took Lani.”

He nods in understanding.

“I’m lost, Pastor. I don’t understand why God would let this happen. Especially to Lani. She’s so good.” My throat constricts. “The best of us.”

“God doesn’t promise peace in this life,” he says. “And while I know that’s of no comfort to you now, it’s the truth.”

“I just want her back. I want her safe.”

“We all do.” He’s quiet a moment. “Something I lean on when I face trials in this life is that God didn’t keep Daniel from entering the lion’s den, and He didn’t put out the flames of the furnace. But that doesn’t mean He wasn’t there. Whatever Lani is going through, she’s not alone. All we can do is trust in His plan and have faith that He will bring her home.”

“And if He doesn’t?” I turn toward the pastor, tears in my eyes. “If she dies?” I choke on the words as my throat constricts at the mere thought of a world without Lani in it. “If she’s already dead?”

Pastor Ford takes a deep breath. “Then we pray for understanding,” he says. “Because in moments like that, it’s all we can do.”

* * *

I tried to sleep. To find rest so I could be renewed in the morning. However, it didn’t come to me. Not when I first laid my head down, and not three hours later when I was still staring up at the ceiling.

So after making myself a thermos full of coffee and drinking my first cup as I made notes on Lani’s case, I climbed into my truck and started driving with no real destination in mind.

I just knew I needed to be out here doing something. Even if all I could do was drive roads I’ve driven dozens of times since Lani went missing. I started at Lani’s apartment, tracing the steps her abductor must have taken to avoid being seen by the security cameras.

I’ve driven in two different directions that seemed logical and gotten nowhere.

It’s nearing five in the morning now, and I’m running out of hope. How can we possibly know which path to take when there are no threads to tug?

Pray for understanding. Pastor Ford’s words come back to me, so even though I’m angry and struggling to see how there could be a bigger plan in something happening to Lani, I start talking to God.

“God, I don’t know what else to do. Can You point me in the direction? Please, God, I can’t live without her.” I slam my hands against the steering wheel, frustration chipping away at me. “Lord, please. I’m lost. Completely and utterly lost. There’s nothing. No lead. No clue. Everyone is counting on me—Lani is counting on me—and I’m failing her. I’m failing them all.” My throat constricts, a lump of emotion forming as I try not to completely lose my mind in the quiet cab of my truck.

I come around a corner, and my headlights catch something white in the ditch. Unease climbs up my spine, so I pull my truck off to the shoulder and climb out, flashlight in hand. It’s likely an animal or something that blew out of the back of a truck, but I head over anyway.

And when the beam of my flashlight illuminates what’s in the ditch, I lose all rational thought. “Lani!” I yell, sprinting the distance between myself and the woman curled in a ball, wearing a tattered hospital gown. The white of it is stained in dirt and blood. Her dark hair has been chopped off at the shoulders and is a muddy mess. Her face is bruised and a bit bloody near her lip and forehead. “Please, God, still be breathing.” Tears burn my throat, and fear eats me alive.

I reach out and touch her neck, a bit of that fear ebbing when I feel a faint pulse.

It’s slow. Too slow. But it’s there.

“Thank You, God. Thank You.” I shrug out of my jacket and lay it over her, hoping to alleviate at least some of the chill. “I’ve got you, baby,” I tell her. “Thank God I’ve got you,” I say again, then lift her slight frame into my arms and rush toward my truck. Balancing her in one arm, I pull open the passenger door and carefully place her inside, my jacket still over her. I lay the seat back so she doesn’t fall over, then seatbelt her before rushing around to the driver’s side, my heart hammering against my ribs.

After cranking up the heater to combat the ice-cold chill of her skin, and flipping my lights and siren on, I throw my truck in drive and spit gravel as I flip a U-turn to head back toward town.

“Call Bradyn Hunt,” I say aloud after pushing the Bluetooth button on my steering wheel. “Come on, Lani. Stay with me.” I keep my right hand on hers, unwilling to let her go now that I’ve got her.

Seconds later, he answers. “Hunt.”

“I found her.”

“Where?” he asks, tone sharpening.

“She was on the side of the highway leading out of town. Just off the road.”

He pauses a moment. “Is she alive?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God.” He lets out a breath.

“She’s unconscious and injured. I’m headed to the hospital now.”

“I’ll make some calls and be there to meet you. Thank you, Gibson. Thank you for finding her.”

“She’s not out of the woods yet.” I end the call as I barrel toward town. Every second feels like a year before I’m screeching to a stop outside the emergency room.

Not even bothering to turn off my truck, I rush around the back and pull her out, taking her into my arms and sprinting toward the door. “I need help!” I yell as I rush into the ER waiting room.

It’s empty, but the nurse working intake rushes into the back when she sees me. I don’t wait for her to return before pushing into the back. She and Dr. Pierce come rushing down the hall.

“Bring her in here.” He gestures toward a bed off to the side, a curtain around it.

I do as he said and lay her down. She’s limp, her body cold as ice.

“Any idea what happened?” he asks as he checks her pupils with a penlight while the nurse hooks her up to a machine to get her vitals.

“I found her on the side of the road,” I tell him, taking stock of her battered body for the first time since I found her. There are red rings of raw skin around both ankles and wrists, insinuating that she was bound.

Cuts and scrapes mar her arms and legs.

The hospital gown is torn, and then I realize— “Why is she in a hospital gown?” I demand.

The doctor shakes his head, his expression grim. “I have no idea. But I intend to find out.”

I start toward him, fury pushing past rational thought. Was she being held here and tried to escape? Is this proof that someone here has been behind this whole thing?

A hand lands on my shoulder. “Gibson. We’ve got her now. She’s safe.”

At the sound of Bradyn, I step back, putting distance between me and Dr. Pierce before I do something stupid and try to beat an answer he likely doesn’t have out of him, but I don’t tear my gaze from him as he rushes back to Lani’s side.

She’s battered.

Bruised.

But she’s alive.

“My baby,” Ruth chokes out as she pushes into the room and grips Lani’s hand. Tears burn in my eyes as I let it fully sink in that Lani has lived through a nightmare. Adrenaline leaves my system in one massive outflow, leaving me feeling cold and hollow.

Tommy is right at her side, holding his wife, his expression twisted in a mixture of relief and grief.

“We need to get her cleaned and checked,” the nurse tells me. “Ruth can stay in here, but I need the rest of you out so we can do a physical examination.”

“Come on, let’s get some coffee,” Bradyn says as he squeezes my shoulder.

I nod, desperate not to leave her side even as I know I have to. I’m terrified that she’s going to disappear. Or that I’ll wake up in my bed, having never found her.

God, please let this be real. Please let her be here.

So even though it feels like I’m leaving part of my heart back in that room, I step out and watch as they pull the curtain closed.