Under Control

by Zoë Normandie

  “I’m so sorry.” Danica wept, holding him closer to her, the sounds of emergency sirens approaching.

  “I never talked about it,” he said then exhaled, looking up at her through blurred vision, “because I couldn’t.”

  “I understand.”

  “She was two months pregnant when she died and—” But then he winced harder, feeling a shooting pain up his spine that he’d never felt before. “I never got to tell her—” he slurred incoherently.

  Danica never let him go, breathing down on him as she kissed his hair. Carrick felt himself losing consciousness, in that weird place where he was slipping in and out. All he could hear was Delta shouting and sirens pulling up on the street.

  Only semi-lucid, Carrick persisted, “I saw a picture of her today for the first time in a long time. But I’m a different man now. I should have told you…” He fluttered his eyes shut, unable to keep them open.

  As Danica whispered distant, reassuring words down to him, Carrick saw a light in his mind. A bright light. It was probably all the natural painkillers his body was releasing. He was bleeding out.

  His mind went back to when he had stood in his kitchen earlier. He’d held the photo in his hands, the photo of him and Lauren. Running his finger over her face, he realized that something had finally changed.

  “You would have liked Dani,” he’d mumbled. “I wish you could have met her.”

  With hurried voices surrounding him, Carrick’s mind wandered to a place of serenity. He was sitting alone on Sunset Beach, watching the waves. For the first time in a long time, he thought about Lauren. Surprising the hell out of him, a grin tugged at his lips, like he was saying hello to an old friend. He felt something lifting away. Lauren was leaving him.

  Carrick only could feel Danica around him, holding his hand, pleading for him as his body was raised. This is what it feels like to die.

  “I should have told you that I love you,” Carrick mouthed, but he had no idea if any sound had come out.

  Chapter Thirty

  Danica

  Danica ran behind the team of paramedics as they rushed Carrick down the emergency halls of the LA General Hospital on a stretcher. In shock, crying and running to keep up, she watched them move his unconscious and bloody body toward the surgical unit.

  It was just like a painful memory playing on repeat in her head.

  “We’re losing him!” a paramedic yelled at the ER nurse, who was running toward them with an IV.

  “Shit.” The nurse’s urgent voice carried through the hall as she took the stretcher behind closed doors.

  Danica burst out into sobs as she tried to sprint toward him, wishing she could be there to help, that she could be his nurse.

  But she was stopped in her tracks. A heavy hand fell on her shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Whipping around and afraid for her life, she flashed back on memories of her childhood, memories of being thrown into a room to await news that the people she loved had died. Relieved, she realized it was only Delta holding her back, a deeply empathic look on his face.

  “All we can do now is wait,” he said calmly. “Let’s get you a coffee.”

  Danica couldn’t stop hyperventilating, her face a mess of heat and tears. Holding her shoulders, Carrick’s best friend ushered her toward the quiet corner of the waiting room. She was trembling as he sat her down on a creaky chair. He moved over to the coffee dispenser, inserting a bill and pouring out two coffees.

  “It’s not going to be like Carrick’s brew,” Delta uttered as he handed the steaming cardboard cup to her. He sat down across from her, sipping on his own cup as he studied her.

  Danica dropped her gaze to the steaming brown-black mess of liquid in the cup. Coffee grounds were visibly floating to the top. He hadn’t bothered with sugar or cream, and she didn’t care. It was something, and she damn well appreciated it—something to clutch onto, something to distract her. Sipping on the bitter brew, she felt an overwhelming need to weep.

  “I can’t lose him. It can’t end like this.”

  “I know,” Delta replied, his own voice cracking. “I know.”

  Danica looked up and saw the same distress in his eyes. He wasn’t going to sugarcoat it for her, wouldn’t pretend everything was going to be okay or lie to make her feel better.

  He’s worried as hell, too.

  And that was when Danica’s face twitched and scrunched up involuntarily—when she felt the need to throw up, when she lost control. She glanced down the hall, reliving the trauma of seeing Carrick’s bloody body disappear into the hospital’s emergency surgery unit. She’d seen her mom and dad disappear down that same hallway at the LA General—but they’d never come back.

  Not alive.

  “God,” she choked, her coffee sloshing out of the cup.

  Delta lunged forward, taking a knee in front of her, his face dead serious.

  “Look at me,” he said, tilting her wet face up to his soft brown eyes. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but you aren’t alone. I’m here.”

  “It’s not good. His injuries were serious…very serious.”

  Delta ran his hand gently up her arm. He remained silent, watching her, holding her.

  “My mom and dad died here,” she sputtered through the tears. “Just like Carrick might. Everyone I love…”

  She pressed her eyes shut, shaking her head, trying to toss the pain away. The last words that had come out of his mouth were as much a mystery as their entire relationship. And in that moment, she broke down to a point she realized she was never going to come back from. As she sobbed, struggling to breathe, Delta drew his arm across her, holding her back.

  “Miss Petrova,” a voice called out in the waiting room.

  Danica raised her head slowly, her cheeks sticky from the tears. She saw a fit, blonde woman in a dark suit standing there, flashing an LAPD badge. Delta stood and immediately his demeanor changed. He flexed his shoulders, and he was tense.

  “Danica,” the woman tucked a stray lock of her silky bob behind her ear, introducing herself. “LAPD IDENT, Sergeant Kendra Larose. Call me Kendra.”

  “IDENT?” Danica asked, standing up beside Delta.

  “Forensic Identification Services,” Kendra explained, holding out a business card for Danica. “I know this is a difficult time, but I need to talk to you.”

  “Not now—” Delta started, putting his hand protectively in front of Danica.

  “Step back,” Kendra bit at him, resulting in a stare-down.

  Danica ran her hand over the card, breathing deeply and remembering everything Carrick had told her. Fight for yourself.

  “Okay,” she replied, wiping the tears off her cheeks as she looked up at Kendra.

  As Delta grumbled, stepping to the side, Kendra took out her notepad and prepared to take a statement.

  “Danica, what happened?” Kendra began, scribbling quickly on the paper.

  “Well…” Danica responded slowly, collecting her thoughts. What should she say? The vision of her uncle flashed across her eyes—everything he had done to her. Carrick’s words came to her mind, along with the vision of him losing consciousness. He’d risked his life for her.

  She knew what she had to do.

  Danica began recounting it all from the beginning—who Petrov was to her, how he’d hired Carrick to track her down and how Petrov had been trying to force her into a marriage for the purpose of transferring his American assets to a Russian.

  “But I said no,” Danica concluded. “I said I wouldn’t do it.”

  “You didn’t sign the documents?” Kendra raised her eyebrow.

  “No—they tried to make me.” Danica reached up and touched the scabbing wound on her brow, remembering Carrick’s hand on her cheek. “But I didn’t.”

  “Petrov has been pronounced dead.” Kendra appeared to search Danica’s face for response, being as sensitive as possible. “I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Kendra sympathized, reaching out to gently touch D
anica’s forearm.

  Delta moved forward again, seemingly unwilling to let Kendra touch Danica. “Give her some space.”

  A tense silence grew between Kendra and Delta, then she turned her attention back to Danica.

  “Andriy will live,” Kendra explained, closing her notebook. “LAPD is charging him with forcible confinement, assault causing bodily harm and attempted extortion…among other things. I guess his company will need a new CEO—but then again, you’ll be making that choice now since you will be the company’s sole owner.”

  “Sole owner?” Danica exhaled.

  “Your lawyer will work through the inheritance with you.” Kendra offered Danica one last look of empathy and turned to leave. “Please let me know if you need anything.”

  Danica nodded quickly, offering a grateful smile. As Kendra gave her a knowing look, she tucked her notebook into her tote bag and slung it back onto her shoulder.

  But before the sergeant could leave, Danica observed Delta squaring his chest to Kendra. The two stood a few feet apart, face to face. A tension thickened the air, and Danica instinctively stumbled back a few steps.

  “It’s been a while, Kendra,” Delta moved in. “I—”

  “Not long enough,” Kendra snapped through a clenched jaw, a tousle of her bob falling over her cheek. “And I don’t want to fucking hear it.”

  Delta betrayed no emotion, standing and staring at the lively blonde, who was spinning to leave. Kendra flashed her gaze away, and Danica didn’t miss the hurt screwed on her face. As the sergeant marched out of sight, Danica stood back wondering what the hell that had all been about.

  Delta looked over at her, his tone far more stressed. “I’ll be back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To check in with the nurse.”

  Danica lunged forward. “I’m coming with you.”

  But then a voice called across the waiting room. “For Carrick Byrne.”

  They both spun instantly, watching a surgeon step forward, a serious and grim look on her face.

  “Can we talk?”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Carrick

  Carrick slowly opened his eyes to the sound of machines beeping in a shadowy hospital room. The distant patter of rain beat against the hospital window. He was alone, he realized, as he opened his bleary eyes wider, wondering what the hell was going on.

  Wondering where she was.

  He tried to turn his head to the window where daylight had been grayed to rainy dullness, but his neck screamed at him—stiff and sore. Instinctively, he reached up to touch his neck, sucking back air through pain, and monitors started beeping faster and more angrily.

  “Shit,” he groaned, realizing that his back and ribcage had lacerations and sutures.

  A young red-headed nurse in purple scrubs came running in with a worried look on her face. She started pressing buttons and scanning his connections, then leaned over his bed.

  “How are you doing, Carrick?” the nurse asked as she flashed a tiny light into each pupil.

  “Fine. Got any water?”

  The nurse gave him a cup and he sloshed the liquid around his mouth and drank it. She moved her flashlight down his body, peeling back his hospital gown to check his incisions.

  “We’ve got a lot to catch up on,” she said. “Let me know when you are feeling up for a chat.”

  “Yeah—I just need to piss,” he said, feeling the immediate need to urinate.

  The nurse laughed and took his arm, securing him as he sat up. He pushed himself up off the bed, holding on to the rail for stability.

  “Holy fuck,” he ground out, feeling pain up his back as he slowly moved toward the small washroom in the corner of his private accommodation.

  “It’s going to hurt. You’ve put your body through hell,” the nurse called behind him. “But this is a good idea—to get up for a minute. You’ve been down for a while.”

  Carrick finished and stood in the doorway.

  “How long have I been out?” he asked the nurse as she wrote on his chart.

  “About fourteen hours,” a familiar feminine voice answered from the entrance to his room. “But who’s counting?”

  Carrick had to grab on to the bathroom doorframe for stability. There stood Dani, her eyes wide and red, dark circles under her eyes. She was still wearing yesterday’s clothes, with his blood on her pink hoodie, and he saw that black bruise over her eyebrow from where she’d been hit. Everything in his body screamed to lunge toward her, to pick her up in his arms and kiss her until neither of them could breathe, but then Delta burst into the room with Carrick’s tiny Aunt Kathy behind him.

  “Carrick!” Kathy bounced forward, wearing a pink blazer, her gray bob bouncing and with a bright smile on her face.

  They both rushed into the room, but Danica held back, watching from the sidelines, her face hollow and haunted. She seemed empty and exhausted—completely burnt out. All he wanted to do was grab her and order her to take care of herself. But she was holding back from him, leaning against the far wall for support.

  Delta helped Carrick back to his bedside, holding on to him as he sat. Kathy chattered about how his surgery had lasted forever and Danica had spent the night in the hospital waiting room, unwilling to leave.

  “LAPD came for statements,” Delta began, but the inflection in his tone tipped Carrick off. Something else had happened.

  Carrick locked his gaze on Delta, raising his eyebrow.

  “We’ll talk about it later,” Delta grumbled under his breath. “Yes, it was her.”

  Kathy pushed forward to his bedside, bringing his side table up and over the bed. She fumbled in her purse for paperwork.

  “Carrick, you know I wouldn’t do this unless it was absolutely urgent, but our twenty-four-hour-window is closing. If you want to sell and buy, you’ve got to sign these now.” She slammed two separate contracts in front of him with a pen. “They’re both solid offers.”

  Leaning back in his bed, he flipped through the documents in front of him—an offer from someone to buy his place on Coronado Island and an offer for him to buy a commercial property in Sunset Beach.

  “You’ve got to make a decision on this,” his aunt rattled off quickly. “Sign both now and I’ll just have enough time to make the deadlines before they go on to the next buyer.”

  Carrick picked up his pen, quickly signing off on his offer for the commercial property. That one was a no-brainer. It would be the best investment he’d ever make. But his pen hovered over the offer to sell his old house, and he raised his eyebrow at his aunt. It was a great offer—a private offer.

  He looked up and over at Danica as her hollow eyes followed him. There was a lot still unresolved between them, and he needed to talk to her pronto. He had a lot to say.

  His pen hit the paper, and he signed his name to the second document. It was done. Now, all he had to do was convince Danica to marry him this time.

  Kathy scooped up the papers, stuffing them in her bag and running out to go send them to the other agents to make them final.

  “Ready to blow this popsicle stand?” Delta asked, eyeing the nurses.

  Carrick coughed then asked, “How many bullets did they take out of me?”

  He shrugged and replied, “Fewer than I had to pull out of you in Mosul. You’ve got this.” Then, moving toward the exit, Delta nodded to the room. “Let’s get you released.”

  Danica offered his buddy a forced smile as he walked out, but things were far from being right. As Delta left her alone with Carrick, she let out a breath she’d apparently been holding.

  “How are you?” Carrick probed, trying to get her to open up and come closer.

  “Tired,” she replied, and he saw the pain in her eyes. “What was that all about with your aunt?”

  “Ah, don’t worry about it,” he began, but swallowed, realizing those were the words she hated—so he leveled with her. “Look… I’m selling my old place.”

  The meaning was clear
—and Danica’s eyes widened. Carrick appreciated how quickly she caught on, which was something he’d come to value a great deal.

  “Are you buying something new?”

  “I’m investing.”

  But being circumspect wasn’t helpful because Danica looked crushed. Carrick swallowed harder, hating it. The only reason he wasn’t telling her was that he didn’t want to give up the one good surprise he had up his sleeve. He wanted to blurt out what he was investing in, but he didn’t want to ruin it.

  “Dani—” he started again, trying to find words for what he needed to say to her.

  But in trying to talk, he found himself coughing.

  Danica leaped forward to his bedside, looking at the beeping on the machine before realizing it was fine. As a nurse, she knew how to read those damn things.

  “Are you going to be okay?” she whispered, her skin tone white, as she fingered the machine controlling the IV drip.

  Carrick let a wide grin cross his lips. “That depends on if you’re planning on marrying me or not.”

  Her whole body froze, and she looked back to him. It wasn’t the reaction he was hoping for.

  “You didn’t forget, did you?” he pushed on, trying to keep his tone light, but unable to mask the determination in his voice.

  She shook her head sharply. “No, I didn’t forget. I thought you did.”

  He slid his hand up, reaching for hers that dangled at her side. As he wrapped it around hers, he found she was cold and stiff. Maybe she needs the hospital bed more than I do, he thought, as his mind turned to bringing her into the bed with him.

  She squeezed back as she connected with him, and he tugged her over to him until she was as close as she could get without falling in altogether.

  “Hey.” He held her hand close to his chest, feeling her despondency.

  Her pain.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She nodded fast—too fast. And she scrunched her face with obvious pain and tears started welling at her eyes.