She thrashed out, rolling over as she coughed up water onto the concrete. Her palm slapped against it once as she tried to steady herself, but her stomach heaved and her nose burned as she spit out more water.
The guy with the mohawk was dripping wet and crouching next to her, concern on his face. “Are you okay?”
Turning so she could fully see him, she blinked once and nodded. Slowly moving her head, she attempted to look at her surroundings. Mohawk must have pulled her from the pool and laid her by the edge. The other technician was kneeling about a foot away from her head, his expression just as worried.
“What…happened?” she croaked, her voice raspy, throat raw and burning from the chlorine.
Mohawk’s expression darkened and he exchanged a look with his partner before looking back at her. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve called the cops and—”
“What happened?” she demanded as she tried to sit up. Her heart thudded overtime.
The moment she shifted, pain shot through her jaw, reminding her she’d been punched. And her feet hurt something fierce. Her toes were raw and bloody but she tried to ignore them. She wanted answers.
Sighing, the dripping man put an arm under her shoulders and helped her sit up straight. “Think you can stand?” he asked softly.
She nodded but when she tried to get up, even with his help, her knees gave way. God, she felt like such a wimp but her body just refused to obey. It was like her limbs were made of boiled linguini.
Cursing, the guy scooped her up and strode toward Grant’s patio table and chairs. Gently he set her down on one of the cushioned chairs. Then he hovered and stared at her as if he was afraid she’d break.
“What’s your name?” she finally asked.
For a moment he looked confused, as if she’d stunned him. “What?”
“Uh, name? I can’t keep calling you Mr. Mohawk in my head,” she said then wished she’d remembered to turn her filter on.
The guy’s eyes widened as he let out a bark of laughter. “Uh, I’m Travis Sanchez and this,” he motioned to the tall black man in the same uniformed shirt who’d been quiet, “is Vincent Hansen.”
She nodded at both of them as an uncontrollable shiver raked through her. Hating the lack of control she suddenly experienced, she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to still her shaking but it was impossible. “What happened? And where’s Grant?” Her teeth chattered so she clenched her jaw, aiming for more control.
Travis sat down in a chair across from her, but Vincent disappeared into Grant’s house. “Some guy with a black mask tried to drown you. I saw someone jump Grant’s fence while I was working on one of the windows. I got here as soon as I could. We managed to scare him off but—God, if I hadn’t been working on that side of the house…” He scrubbed a hand over his face.
Belle reached out and patted his other hand shakily, feeling a little foolish at comforting him when her insides felt as if they’d split apart any second now. What the hell was happening? Someone had tried to drown her? Why? “I scratched the guy,” she blurted as the horrifying experience played over in her head.
Travis’s head snapped up at her words. “Good. Don’t wash your hands. When the paramedics and detectives arrive we’ll have them take samples. Maybe you got his DNA.”
“Paramedics? I don’t need to see anyone.” She just wanted a hot bath then some dry clothes. And to get warm. Despite the sunshine, her teeth were chattering, her skin covered with goose bumps.
But Travis wasn’t listening. He stood when Vincent approached, having retrieved a handful of towels. She sat numbly while he wrapped one around her. Tugging it tighter against her shoulders, she desperately tried to digest everything that had just happened while fighting the sudden onslaught of tears. More than anything, she just wished Grant was here. Had they called him? She wanted to ask, but knew if she opened her mouth again, tears would soon follow. While she really did love her family and knew they only wanted what was best for her, she knew they’d try to pack her up and move her back to her parent’s home if she called them. Grant wouldn’t do any of that. He always seemed so in control over every situation and right now she wouldn’t mind some of his strength.
When men in uniform stormed the backyard she flinched when she realized she knew one of the paramedics from work. Great. The last thing she wanted was for the entire hospital to know her business.
Even worse, Grant was going to think she was some sort of lunatic who’d dumped all this drama into his life. She knew that was the last thing on earth she should be worried about, but the thought accosted her nonetheless. As one of the paramedics sat in front of her and began asking her questions, she fought back the tears that wanted to escape and focused all her attention on answering coherently. The last thing she was doing was going to the hospital and she knew that either the paramedics or one of the detectives she’d seen milling around the pool would try to push the issue.
Jeez, it was like they’d called out everyone from the Miami Police Department. Yeah, Grant was definitely going to regret talking to his new neighbor now. And she really couldn’t blame him.
* * * * *
Grant jerked his truck to a halt as he hit the curb in front of his house. A handful of black and whites with their lights on were in his driveway and in Belle’s. There was also an ambulance and Carlito’s car along the curb. As he stormed across his front yard a rookie who looked like it was his first day out of the academy tried to stop him by holding out a hand.
“I live here,” Grant snarled, bypassing the guy and ignoring his protests. As he reached the front door it flew open. Carlito’s face was grim, making Grant’s heart seize. Travis had called him and told him Belle was okay, but his former partner looked like death. “What the fuck is it? Is she hurt?”
“Nothing that won’t heal. Her jaw, shoulders and neck are bruised. Her feet are a little raw, but she’ll be fine. Physically anyway,” Carlito talked as they hurried through his house. “She scratched the guy though. Got enough to run his DNA.”
Grant paused, sucking in a deep breath. That was actually good news even if he hated that the guy had been close enough for her to touch. Travis had told him a masked man—just like last night—had tried to drown Belle. In his pool. What the hell was going on? And why had Belle been outside in the first place?
Sidestepping a paramedic walking through his back door, he scanned his backyard in seconds, quickly narrowing in on Belle. She sat with a giant blanket wrapped around her on one of his patio chairs. She was talking to Travis but her face was pale. When she saw him her eyes lit up. The sight was like a punch to the gut. She lifted a hand, half-waving, and her blanket fell open revealing that she was wearing a skimpy two-piece bathing suit. Okay, it was actually more than decent but he froze at all that skin.
Next to him Carlito hissed in a breath but Grant ignored him. He didn’t have a claim on Belle. Stalking toward her, he stopped when he was right in front of her and kneeled down.
“Why the fuck were you outside?” He cringed the moment he barked the question. She blanched as if he’d struck her and he wanted to kick his own ass. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong… How are you doing?”
She took a shuddering breath and to his complete and utter surprise, lunged at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her blanket sagged and before he could shoot Travis a beseeching look the other man had grabbed it and was holding it against her back. Belle mumbled nonsensical words as she started crying. Real, gut-wrenching tears. Shit. Carlito and Travis had both told him she’d been keeping it together. His heart ached at seeing her falling apart like this. Sweet, funny Belle in tears made him want to kill whoever had done this. Grant had always been in control of his emotions but right now he felt positively murderous.
Lifting her up in his arms, he glanced around to find everyone staring at them. He wanted to shout at them to mind their own business but had a feeling that would upset Belle even more. Travis draped the blanket over her and Grant held onto it as best he could while holding her. He could barely understand what she was saying as she cried into his neck, but he was pretty sure she was apologizing. For what, he couldn’t imagine.
He headed back for his house, only stopping to talk to Carlito and tell him to make sure everyone was gone as soon as possible. Considering the paramedic had left Belle he figured she wasn’t going to the hospital, but he needed to confirm it anyway. As he hurried up his stairs he asked, “Did they say anything about you needing to go to the hospital?”
She shook her head almost violently and pulled back, her green eyes shimmering with tears. “I’m not going.” There was a bite of attitude in her words and he was glad.
“They’ve taken the DNA from under your fingers, right?” he asked for clarification.
When she nodded he figured that was all he was getting from her. Striding to his bedroom, he shut the door behind them and put her on her feet. She wrapped her arms around herself but she seemed steady enough to stand on her own.
Grant nodded toward his open bathroom door. “I think you’ll feel better if you take a bath or a hot shower. Are you okay to start it on your own?”
She just nodded again, her green eyes huge and terrified, her face an ashen gray and panic punched him in the chest. He wondered if she’d gone into shock. “Belle! You’ve got to give me some audible answers.”
Belle pushed out a long sigh. “I’m…fine.” Her breath hitched once. “When I saw you I guess I lost it. I’m so sorry. I’m officially the worst neighbor ever.”
Frowning, he reached out and pulled her into a gentle hug, resting his chin on her head. He was just glad she was all right. Her hair smelled like chlorine and something fruity. “Honey, you have nothing to be sorry for. Some asshole attacked you in the middle of the day. There’s no way any of us could have seen this coming.” He refrained from giving her hell about going outside. It would be cruel and unnecessary considering what she’d already suffered.