Wanting the Detective

Chapter 5

Daybreak was scattering its soft light over Atlanta as Kurt pushed through the revolving glass doors of Grady Memorial Hospital.

"I'm looking for Special Agent Lucy Reynolds. She's likely just been brought in." Kurt retrieved his badge from his jacket pocket and presented it to the women behind the reception counter.

The curvier of the two ladies raised a quizzical brow. He must have been a sight: disheveled, bewildered and out of breath.

The smaller woman piped up. "She's in Emerge, through the doors to your left. You can ask about her at Triage and they'll let you know what's happening with her."

After several minutes of searching and questioning various hospital employees, an ER nurse brought Kurt to the room where Lucy was being treated.

'Prita Basra, RN' was printed on the laminate tag clipped to the nurse's scrubs. She spoke softly to him as she led him down the corridor. Kurt tried to place her Middle-Eastern accent, but couldn't quite pin it down. "She's doing well, but showing signs of acute stress—some trembling, very detached disposition—"

"Oh, that's just who she is." Kurt offered the nurse a faint smile.

"Yes, that could be, but it can become a concern if this sort of detached it behavior happens for a prolonged period of time." Nurse Basra stopped at one of the rooms and knocked on the closed door before cracking it an inch and calling through. "Agent Reynolds, I have a Detective Milton with me. Is it okay to send him in?"

"One minute, please. I'm just trying to tie my gown at the back." Lucy sounded better than she had on the phone but her voice was still hoarse.

"Do you want some help, Ms. Reynolds?" Nurse Basra asked.

"Sure."

The nurse turned to Kurt. "Just a moment." She opened Lucy's door enough to slip into the room.

Kurt hadn't meant to look, but the Nurse's petite frame allowed him an unexpected view over her head.

Lucy stood by the bed with her back turned. Her hospital gown was open, revealing the gentle curve of her naked back. Her skin was marred with scrapes and bruises.

"You shouldn't be standing, Agen—" Nurse Basra's voice was cut-off by the heavy door as it closed behind her.

Kurt had to restrain himself from pushing his way into the room and checking Lucy over himself. What the hell had happened, anyway? Blazing anger burned his skin. His jaw clenched. He was glad one of the men who had done this to Lucy was dead, glad that bullet had torn through his aorta. Hopefully, he'd had some time to think about what a piece of human garbage he was before he bled out.

Now, what to do with the guy they had in custody?

Kill him too. Kurt thrust his open palm against the wall bordering the door. God, he wanted to hurt that son-of-a-bitch. Any man who could hurt a woman like that didn't deserve to breathe the same air as everyone else.

Startled, a passing nurse spun on her heels and glared at him.

"Sorry." Kurt muttered an apology and blinked back the rage clouding his vision. He'd always been bad for letting his personal feelings affect his behavior—and his feelings on this subject were very personal.

Nurse Basra opened the door and poked her head out. "What's going on out here?"

Kurt's face was hot with embarrassment as much as anger now. "Uh, there was a fly—I got it, though." He stared sheepishly at the wall where he'd hit the invisible fly.