Chapter 2: Hostage in the Hospital

“I...” My voice was barely a whisper, but he caught it. The moment hung there, sharp and real.

The guy tried to argue, but the officer cut him off. I watched, heart thumping, as the cop’s hand shot up, shutting the creep down with one sharp gesture.

He raised a hand, shutting him down. “Enough. You’re being booked tonight.” The finality in his tone was absolute.

He didn’t even look at the guy again, turning his attention back to me. A weird sense of relief washed over me—like I could finally exhale.

I finally looked up. He was about six foot one, strong jaw, sharp features. He tried to look tough, but couldn’t hide that youthful spark. Couldn’t have been much older than me. My mind tried to catalog every detail, even as adrenaline still buzzed in my veins.

His uniform fit just right, and his eyes held a kindness that made my nerves settle. I wondered if he played football in high school, or maybe baseball. He looked like the kind of guy who’d help his grandma cross the street, then chase down a thief without breaking a sweat. The kind you’d trust, even in the middle of the night.

“Don’t be scared. What’s your name?”

His eyes were kind, his voice gentle—probably trying not to freak me out. I swallowed, trying to get my voice to work.

I took a shaky breath, heart still racing. “Autumn Callahan. My name’s Autumn Callahan.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling, full of that summer-night sparkle. For a second, I forgot about everything else.

His smile was so genuine, it felt like the city’s chill faded for a moment. I caught myself staring, then looked away, cheeks burning.

Right then, I fell hard.

The moment hung in the air, electric and undeniable. I knew it was ridiculous, but I didn’t care. My heart had already made up its mind.

“I just graduated. I’m doing my residency in cardiology at St. Mary’s.”

I wiped my nose, trying to sound professional. Maybe if I kept talking, he wouldn’t notice how fast my heart was beating. I felt like a dork, but it was better than silence.

“A doctor? That explains the night shifts.” He walked ahead, and I stuck close, suddenly grateful for his solid presence.

His voice held a note of respect, and he motioned for me to follow. I fell in step, suddenly aware of how small I looked next to him. My nerves buzzed, but in a good way.

“Get in.”

“Huh?”

He opened the passenger door and grinned. “It’s late. I’ll drive you home.”

His grin was disarming, boyish. I hesitated, then slid into the seat, feeling oddly protected. My heart did a little leap.

A sleek black Tahoe—understated but expensive. Well, look at that. Turns out he’s got some money, too. My stomach fluttered.

The interior smelled like leather and cologne, with a faint trace of coffee. The dashboard glowed softly, radio playing some old Springsteen song. I tried not to stare as he buckled his seatbelt, hands steady on the wheel.

On the way, I learned his name: Ben Maddox, Police Academy grad, third year on the force. Just about my age. He had this easy way of talking that made me forget I’d ever been scared.

He told me about his rookie year, about the city, about loving the night shift. I laughed more than I had in weeks. We swapped stories—mine about cranky patients, his about weird calls. By the time we pulled up to my building, it felt like we’d known each other forever.

I got his number under the pretense of following up on the case. Before I could dream up a reason to text him, I ran into him again. Destiny? Maybe just a small city.

I saved his number as "Officer Dreamboat." I rehearsed a dozen texts, never sent a single one. But fate—maybe just the city—had other plans.

Another early morning, the hospital lobby was buzzing. At the billing counter, a small crowd had gathered. And, again, I was the main attraction. My stomach dropped.

The fluorescent lights made everyone look tired and gray. Voices echoed off the tile, tense and sharp. I could feel eyes on me, whispers swirling. My heart sank—trouble had found me again.

“Calm down, this has nothing to do with Dr. Callahan! She’s just a resident—she wasn’t even in the OR!”

That was my senior, Marcus Lee, two years ahead of me. The one person who could keep a lid on chaos—sometimes.

Marcus’s voice boomed over the crowd, trying to keep things under control. He shot me a worried glance, his usually easygoing face tight with stress. I’d never seen him look so serious. My stomach twisted.

A sharp pain on my neck made my hands and feet go cold. The man behind me was frantic, and suddenly pressed the blade harder. “It’s your fault! You’re all the same! You have to pay for my daughter’s life!”

His breath was hot and sour against my ear. The cold edge of the blade bit into my skin, and I fought to keep my voice steady. My mind flashed through every news story I’d ever read—hostage, tragedy, blood on linoleum floors. I tried to breathe, but the air felt thick and heavy.

“When your daughter came in, it was already too late. We did everything we could. No doctor would ever give up on a patient. Please, trust us!”

Marcus’s words were desperate, pleading. He looked at me, eyes wide, silently begging me to hold on. My knees trembled, but I nodded, trying to show I was okay. My chest hurt from holding my breath.

“Shut up! I don’t care what you say!”

The man’s grip tightened, his knuckles white. The crowd pressed back, fear rippling through the room. I could hear someone sobbing softly behind me. My skin felt too tight.

The suffocating grip tightened. The knife pressed into my neck, jerking me around. My mind went blank, everything narrowing to the sharp bite of steel and the pounding in my ears.

My breath hitched. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the panic. Somewhere, a nurse whimpered. The world shrank to just me and the blade.

Police sirens grew closer. As everyone panicked, a sharp voice cut through the chaos. My heart stuttered, hope flickering.

The sound of sirens was like a lifeline. Then, cutting through the noise, a voice I recognized—steady, commanding, impossible to ignore. My pulse jumped.

“Look at her—she’s your daughter’s age, just out of school, worked her butt off to become a doctor. She saves lives, and now she’s about to be killed for trying to help. You think your daughter, wherever she is, would want this? Would she rest in peace?”

That familiar voice was close, but I couldn’t open my eyes. While the man hesitated, chaos erupted, and a team of officers rushed in and tackled him. I couldn’t hold on any longer and blacked out. Everything went spinning.

In the blur, I thought I felt someone’s hand brush my arm. Then everything went dark. For a moment, I floated.

Somewhere in the noise, I thought I heard someone calling my name. Distant, urgent—like a lifeline thrown across a river.

It sounded far away, muffled by sirens and shouting. I drifted in and out, clinging to the sound like a buoy in a storm. I wanted to answer, but my mouth wouldn’t work.

When I woke up, I recognized the hospital ceiling. Never thought I’d end up in my own ward. My neck throbbed, and I clenched my teeth, blinking away the fuzziness.

The ceiling tiles were familiar, the antiseptic smell oddly comforting. I tried to swallow, but my throat was dry and sore. The pain in my neck pulsed with every heartbeat. I wondered if I’d ever feel normal again.

“Ow...” I croaked, my voice barely there. My head ached, but at least I was alive.

“You’re up, Autumn.”

“Marcus...” He sighed in relief and handed me some water. I tried to smile, but my lips barely moved.

His hands shook as he pressed the cup to my lips. I sipped, grateful for the coolness. Marcus looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes. For once, he didn’t have a joke ready. That scared me more than anything.

“You almost gave us a heart attack. If the cops had been a minute later, you might not be here. Next time, don’t play hero, okay?”

His scolding was warm, almost like a big brother. It was an emergency—if I hadn’t stepped up, the guy might’ve grabbed the elderly attending. The professor could barely stand, let alone survive a hostage situation. I felt both proud and stupid.

Marcus’s voice cracked at the edges, but he tried to hide it. I knew he was right, but I also knew I’d do it again. That’s just who I am, I guess.

“By the way, Marcus...” I remembered the worried look on that officer’s face. “Where’s the cop who saved me?”

“You should thank him. He stayed all night, just stepped out for breakfast. He’ll be back soon.”