The tallest of her attackers had kept the knife pressed to her side the entire walk to the clinic. She’d tried to go slowly, exaggerating the injuries she’d gotten when she’d been tackled. The tactic had worked, but it had come with a price. Kelly was bleeding from a handful of cuts where he’d used the knife to prod her into moving faster. There wasn’t anything she could do about them, except use her hand to apply pressure and try to slow the bleeding. The cuts were shallow enough they’d heal quickly, but only if she survived the night. Right now she wasn’t sure that was going to happen. If she ever saw Ben again, she owed him another apology. The would-be thieves hadn’t let her near the alarm panel. Instead, Scarface had demanded that she give him the code and he’d entered it himself. Kelly could see the red button that would have summoned immediate help, but there was no way she could reach it. Her frustration grew when she tried to collect the keys to the drug locker from the front desk drawer where they were kept.
