Free Chained by REBECCA YORK

strange, one-way conversation.
    At first she told herself that he wasn’t going to respond
until she could wake him up. But as the hours dragged by, she began to worry.
He hadn’t known her in the hospital. And then there was the detail that she
didn’t want to think about: He’d stopped talking to her before she left the
ranch. He’d said he wanted her to go back to her life. She would—with him. If
she could convince him it was the right thing to do.
    A bolt of fear shot through her. Was she really doing the
right thing, or had she completely gotten this whole scenario wrong? Would she
kill him instead of cure him?
    No. She had to believe in what she was doing.
    As they rode on through the night, she tried to quiet her
doubts by praying.
    And at least, there were no problems on the road. They made
good time and arrived at the ranch around eight in the morning.
    From there, Isabella had the driver take her as close to the
vortex as he could manage.
    She had just gotten out of the vehicle when a loud, whooping
sound from above made her look up.
    A helicopter was flying straight toward the ranch. Had
Gloria changed her mind and called the police?
    As she pressed her fist against her mouth and watched, the
aircraft landed, kicking up red dust.
    The minute it was on the ground, a man jumped out, wavering
for a moment on his feet before rushing toward her. It was Frank Decorah. His
eyes were blazing, and he had a gun in his hand, pointed at her.
    “Hands in the air.”

 
    CHAPTER NINE
    Isabella stopped in her tracks.
    “I said, hands in the air.”
    She raised her hands. “What are you doing here?” she managed
to ask.
    “Following a hunch. I thought you might try to do something
stupid. Matthew’s missing from Garrison Care. You’ve got him in that ambulance.
Am I right?”
    She answered with a little nod.
    “He’s still alive?”
    “Of course he’s still alive.”
    “Matthew is a good man. I’m not going to let you kill him.
He’s going back to Garrison Care, if it’s not too late. And you’re going to
jail for kidnapping. I hope it doesn’t turn out to be murder. I’ve brought a
doctor to ride back to L.A. with him.”
    Isabella gasped. “You can’t take him back. I’m not going to
kill him. I want to heal him.”
    His expression hardened. “I don’t know what you think you’re
doing, but you can’t heal him. He’s been unresponsive for five years. I get a
report on him every month.”
    “He’s unresponsive because his body and his soul are
separated.”
    “Oh right. You told that story to the nurse who helped you
spring him from Garrison. What happened to your theory that his ghost was out
here at the ranch with you?”
    “That was before you told me he was in a coma. But I talked
to him here.” They’d done more than talk, but she was pretty sure telling the
head of Decorah Security the details would only lower his opinion of her.
    “Come on. We’ve leaving.”
    She stiffened her legs. “Maybe you think I didn’t talk to
Matthew, but it’s true. He told me that if I needed your help, I should remind
you of something called Powder Keg.”
    Decorah sucked in a sharp breath. “How do you know about
Powder Keg?”
    “I don’t. I only know Matthew said to mention it to you if I
needed help. What is it?”
     His gaze had turned inward. “I wouldn’t have believed that you
talked to him,” he murmured. “But Powder Keg is the name of the operation where
he was injured. I curse myself every day for letting my agents fall into the
militia leader’s trap. Two men were killed. Matthew might as well have been.”
     She kept her gaze fixed on Decorah. “And you feel
responsible.”
    “Yes.”
    “You can’t bring the other men back, but you can make a
difference for Matthew.”
    “Go on.”
    At least he was letting her argue her case. She swallowed
hard and continued, “Eight years ago, when Matthew was guarding me, the two of
us were in love with each other, even though neither