Hitch

by Anne Conley

  Her lungs were tight, and she knew the burn would start soon, but she couldn’t acknowledge it. When she saw the flapping of his flannel shirt surrounded by a cloud of red, she swam toward it intending to grab a handful, desperate to drag him to the surface. She didn’t look at his face. She couldn’t.

  Not wanting to see the pallor of death on his skin, Amber she reached out, grabbed his shirt, and tugged for all she was worth. It was slow, and her muscles screamed at her as she struggled against Dex’s weight in the water. She kicked off her shoes and used one hand to release her belt, but it didn’t help much. Eventually, her lungs began to burn hot, and she knew her reflexes would open her mouth and inhale, whether she had air to breathe or not.

  She was going to drown.

  As the light got brighter above her, she willed herself to not do it. Don’t breathe until you reach the top. Her movements sluggish—everything was protracted, slow-motion—she could feel the oxygen depleting in her blood. That was probably her imagination. Who could actually feel something like that? But her last moments were so detailed, everything flashing through her mind with perfect clarity.

  The weight of her dying lover in her arms, the lack of oxygen in her lungs, the bulk of her panic as it pressed upon her as if pushing her further below the surface—the surface of the water she could see.

  As she broke the surface in a harsh, gasping breath, Amber did a mental celebration. She’d made it. Tugging Dex closer, she kicked mightily and looked for some floating piece of something to hold on to.

  Not finding anything, she started swimming to shore one-handed while she held Dex in a sort of choke hold to keep his head above water. Her pants legs made kicking difficult, but Amber had made it this far, she’d be damned if they died now. She hadn’t checked him, not wanting to know if he was dead or not. Amber was assuming he was alive because the alternative was too painful. She was just doing whatever it took to get him out of this damn river. She would think about what that meant later.

  The current was strong. By the time she’d gotten to the banks, where people were standing, ready to help her, she was safe from the sinking barge. The explosion had blown off a corner of the vessel, and it sank and groaned as it went under.

  A chorus of wild cheers went up when Amber reached the river bank with Dex, and random strangers’ arms reached down to lift them out of the water. She immediately checked his pulse and found it was weak but steady. Hollering for someone to call an ambulance, she started checking the rest of his vitals. He wasn’t breathing. Shit. Everything had happened so fast, she wasn’t sure what exactly had gone down, except Perkins had struck again, and Dex had saved her life.

  She had to return the favor.

  Working on autopilot, Amber did chest compressions and mouth to mouth—willing life into him, his lips horrifyingly cold—until strangers in uniforms took over. Blankets were draped around her, Dex was loaded onto a stretcher, and the adrenaline crashed.

  Amber allowed herself to be strapped to a gurney, completely numb, and it wasn’t because of the cold.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dex peeled his eyelids open to find he was in a hospital. Daylight was fading through the blinds on the window, and he no idea what had happened. He looked around the dim room and found Simon and Amber on chairs next to his bed—Simon watching him carefully, Amber sleeping soundly.

  He wore a suit, she wore scrubs and had a bandage over her forehead. An incongruous pair, to be sure. Dex didn’t speak, unwilling to wake Amber. If she was asleep in one of those uncomfortable chairs, she must need her rest.

  What the hell had happened?

  A nurse bustled in pushing a cart with machinery and supplies on it.

  “Oh good. You’re awake. I just need to check your stats real quick, then I’ll page the doctor and let her know you’re still with us.”

  “Was there any question I wouldn’t be?” Dex asked drily. His throat was sore, his voice hoarse. Amber’s eyelids fluttered, and she shifted in her seat as Simon rose. Dex was wholly focused on her bourbon-colored eyes as they opened and finally focused on him. God, he’d missed her. He felt the sense of rightness flush through him, ignoring the nurse’s words.

  “Not really. The surgeon’s good.”

  “I’m going to get some coffee. I’ll be back.” Simon made his excuses as the nurse swiped a thermometer over his forehead, clamped something on his finger, and typed into the laptop on her cart.

  When she had finished poking at him and typing, all the while making small talk he didn’t process, the nurse left, and Amber was watching him carefully. Bits and pieces of the morning came back to him, and Dex remembered enough to know they’d both almost died.

  “You okay?” He also remembered she wasn’t his anymore, if she ever had been, and he had no reason to lure her into his bed so he could hold her. So he settled for resting his hands on his thighs as her eyes followed the movement.

  “Yeah. A couple of scrapes and cuts, but you got hit with some shrapnel and it pierced an artery. Plugged it up, so to speak. You were in surgery for hours, but they said you’d be fine. They’re keeping you a couple of days. I guess the surgeon will be in a little while to tell you all that.” She looked at her hands, twining them in her lap.

  Dex wondered if now was a good time to tell her he loved her. He wanted her to know. All the thoughts that had gone through his head when he’d seen Perkins were coming back to him.

  As if destined to fuck his world for the rest of her days, Eileen waltzed into the room holding a small plant. She froze when she saw Amber in the chair, looking dazed.

  “Officer Banks, I heard about what happened. I thought you were discharged.” Her voice sounded petulant, and Dex’s ire rose. He wondered exactly how desperate he’d been to have sex with her.

  “Why are you here?” He managed to grunt the words and not make them as hateful as he intended. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse for Amber, and if Eileen were half as smart as he thought she was, she’d be putting two and two together.

  And he watched it click into place for her. She turned her eyes back to Dex and softened. “Because I heard you were involved and I was worried. I know you said we were done, and I’m not here for that.” Her gaze went back to Amber, and Eileen swallowed as she looked Amber up and down. “I promise.” She set the plant down on a countertop in the corner. “Is she the one?” She made a vague gesture, but since Amber was the only one in the room, he could only assume Eileen was speaking about her. Dex nodded, feeling like he was in the Twilight Zone.

  “Yes, and I still don’t understand why you’re here.”

  “Because I’m sorry this happened to you. You’re a good guy, Dex.” Looking back at Amber, she gave a small wave. “Lucky lady, Amber. Dex is great.” Her words were choked, but Dex admired her ability to not be catty at this moment. He had no idea what it meant for Amber’s future, but for right now, he would take it. Eileen left without another word, nor a look back, and Dex breathed out a sigh of relief at her departure. He turned his head back to Amber, who hadn’t moved, although her eyes were now wide as saucers.

  “Look, Amber, I know now isn’t the right time, but—”

  “Oh good, you’re both here.” Dex groaned as he rolled his neck toward the door and saw Lieutenant Nguyen come in his room. What now? “Y’all know the paperwork this is going to involve, and we didn’t even get the asshole.” He took a step closer to Dex’s bed, and his eyes hardened. “And Hollerman, you’re retired. I shouldn’t even be seeing you right now. What the hell were you even doing there? And if you say you were working a case for Pierce, I’ll kick your ass all the way to Lubbock. He handed the files over to me two days ago.”

  “I was there for Amber.”

  “She call you in?” Nguyen’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two of them.

  “No, she didn’t. In fact, if memory serves, she was trying to arrest me for trespassing when Perkins detonated.”

  “Then what the fuck w
ere you doing there?” The vein on his forehead was pulsing, and Dex got a cheap thrill from it. When he’d worked for the lieutenant, it had always been a free cookie to whoever got the vein going first.

  “I knew Perkins was going to be there, and I wanted to help Officer Banks however I could.” Jaw set, his own temples flexing, Dex stared back at Nguyen.

  Amber still gaped at the two of them, as if wondering if someone was about to throw her under the bus.

  “You. Are. A. Civilian. Now.” Nguyen was gritting out his words, fists clenched. “I understand it’s hard to just stop it all, but you’ve retired from the force and can’t play armchair sleuth when the notion strikes you.” His voice softened. “I get it, Hollerman. I really do. But you know the rules. You know why we can’t do this. You can’t do this.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The lieutenant turned to Amber. “You all right?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be in this evening to fill out everything and have it on your desk tonight.”

  “Save it. You look like hell.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Dex wanted to belt Nguyen. Amber looked like the man had just shot her puppy. Dex had been on the receiving end of Nguyen’s wrath enough times to know he would put her on leave while he investigated. Then she would come back and all would be well. End of story. But she hadn’t been on this force long enough to know that’s what would happen.

  “And you’re off this case. No backup? No FBI presence? You know they’re crawling all up my ass on this one. Domestic terrorism is sexy to them. They’ve all but taken over.”

  “I was just following a lead.” She lifted her chin, and Dex admired the defiance in her tone. The pride he felt visibly puffed up his chest, pulling stitches. He cringed but kept it silent as he watched the standoff between the two of them. “I was following orders, sir.”

  “Your orders were to follow up by phone and make a list of leads based on validity. NOT go off on your own. I warned you after that Dallas stunt. You’re on leave for the foreseeable future.”

  Nguyen turned back to Dex. “And I don’t want to see you again. Understand? If I even hear your name, I’ll show up on your doorstep with an anvil ready to shove up your ass.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Nguyen stalked out the door, and Dex closed his eyes, suddenly tired. Rustling of clothing from the chair had him looking at Amber again.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll leave now.”

  “Don’t go.” Well, that was selfish. She’d been through the same damn explosion he had. “Never mind. Go home and rest. You need it. I’m not going to say you look like hell, but you need rest while you can.”

  “Truth is, no one saw what happened to Perkins after the blast. I’m going to go home and see if I can figure out where he’s hiding.”

  A ripple of unease went through Dex. “Is your home safe, Amber? I got a phone call from someone who knows you and called you a whore.” Her jaw squared at his words, ticking gently. He’d brought it up before, and she’d blown it off. But he was concerned, he couldn’t help it. “It’s got me a little concerned for you. I don’t think it’s related to Perkins.”

  She looked him straight in the eyes, and the determination behind the look did nothing to set him at ease. “It’s not. It’s something from my old town. I can handle that.” A small smile softened her face but didn’t alleviate his unease. “Old news.”

  “To you. But it didn’t sound like something the caller was willing to let go of. Just be careful. I can give you the keys to my place if you’d feel safer there.”

  “I don’t feel like I’m in danger at my house, Dex. I’ll be fine.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  Those words were a pointed reminder that Dex wasn’t anybody to her. Without thinking, he blurted out the words he’d been meaning to say for days.

  “I love you.” A gasp left her throat, reminding him of the noises she made when they made love. “You don’t have to do anything with that. Just know I mean it when I say I’m not done with you. I can’t do a damn thing from this bed, but when I can, I’m coming to get you.” His impotence at the moment was a wall between them, one he couldn’t scale on his own, and she seemed unwilling to try. He felt like he’d threatened her with his possessiveness repeatedly, and it made him feel bad because he hadn’t actually done anything about it. He softened before he said, “Please be careful.”

  Amber reached over and squeezed his hand, a connection he wanted to maintain, to prolong, to expound upon. Tears welled up in his eyes as he reached to hold her cheek in his hand. But before Dex could make the contact he craved, she released his fingers with a sad smile and walked out the door.

  By leaving him, she’d made her statement. Loud and clear. She wasn’t interested in his love. If she were, she would have stayed. Even as shitty and self-serving as that thought was, she would have. He could blame whatever meds were dripping through his I.V. for the selfish thoughts, but in his heart, he knew she didn’t feel the same way toward him.

  Before he could sink further in the mire of self-pity he was wallowing in, Simon returned holding two cups of coffee in his hands. As Simon held one out in a gesture, Dex shook his head. He was more than willing to sink into the black abyss of sleep as soon as his boss left and didn’t think caffeine would help with that plan.

  Simon broke the silence. “You don’t know her.”

  “Sure I do.”

  “What’s her favorite song?” Simon shot back.

  Dex tried to shrug, succeeding only with one shoulder. Jesus, that hurt. “There’s more to knowing someone than that shit, you know it.” Then he decided to turn the tables. “What’s her favorite song?”

  A carefully blank look settled on Simon’s face. “Who?”

  “Whoever made mince-meat of that black thing inside your chest.”

  An uncharacteristic chuckle came from his boss. “I Hate Everything About You.” His head dropped and shoulders stooped, and Dex felt a little bad for asking. “The writing on that wall was pretty clear, huh? I never even fucking saw it coming.”

  Simon shook his head as if clearing drops of a filthy memory.

  “So … I don’t have anything pressing, if you want to take a couple days off.” Simon effectively changed the subject. “But if you need something, I can give you something. Deena Rae is about to get a case she’ll need some help with.”

  “Naw. I’ll take a couple of days to get my head on straight, if that’s cool. I think I need to regroup.”

  “Retirement’s hard, man. I get it. Take what you need, but come back. I had no idea this case would put you right back in APD’s lap.”

  “It’s all right.”

  Simon left with a wave, and Dex willed himself to go back to sleep. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Amber and her ridiculously easy capitulation with the lieutenant when he’d taken her off the case. He didn’t know her well, but he’d seen that look plenty of times.

  She was officially off the case, but the little witch was going home to work it anyway.

  Which meant he was, too.

  If he ever got out of this damn hospital bed.

  Chapter Twenty

  Amber had spent the last three days in a sort of frenetic holding pattern. Her body felt like she was supposed to be doing something, her mind was going in a hundred different directions at once, and her heart wanted her to go back to Dex’s bedside. But her boss had told her she was off the case and needed to take a break for a few days. So she’d been unpacking, turning the case over in her mind, unable to stop thinking about it. And where the case was, so was Dex.

  She was confident Dex wasn’t working it anymore. In fact, she wasn’t sure he wasn’t still at the hospital. Guilt riddled her that she didn’t know for certain. She should go see him, or at least call and find out if he was still there.

  But she really wanted a job to go back to. Amber knew if she went with Dex to investigate Per
kins further, she would most likely be reassigned to dispatcher status. If she was lucky.

  Amber knew she could go visit Dex for personal reasons, but somehow, that scared her more. The fact that perceptions of her as a cop would change as soon as she was publicly involved with Dex bothered her more than she cared to admit. She had worked hard for whatever legitimacy as a professional she had, and she knew a relationship with Dex would skew that in others’ eyes.

  The psychology behind retiring from the force was deep. Dex would have a hard time letting go. His brothers on the force? Not so much. He was probably seen as a traitor to the brotherhood, even if he had put in his time. There were always the die-hards, like Nguyen, who would stay on the force until they keeled over on their doughnuts. Then there were the ones like Gabby who stayed past their prime but continued for the maximum retirement benefits. Dex, leaving after his minimal twenty, was getting while the getting was good, and his leaving the younger ones was like a slap in the face, whether he meant it that way or not.

  And Amber seeing him in her private time would open her up to conjecture around the coffee pot, sexualize her, make all the guys talk about what they got up to behind closed doors. She’d heard it with other women on the force.

  Ironically, it wasn’t a sexist thing. Men who suddenly got involved were just as soft as women who had personal lives. As if being a cop didn’t allow for such frivolities. She would be seen as someone whose head wasn’t fully on the job. Her skills would be brought into question.

  Like they already had been on the Perkins case.

  And the kicker was, for once in her life, Amber really wasn’t sure of herself. Would she have investigated this case differently if Dex wasn’t in the picture? The answer was an unequivocal yes. If she hadn’t met Dex, she would have been cluelessly following up on call-in leads and never gotten out of her cubicle, maybe sneaking out a couple of times to check pawn shops or whatever. They would probably still be trying to figure out who was behind the explosions.