A flash filled the room as the lights came on, the contrasting brightness blinded him.
“Nick?”
Nick was caught off guard by the sound of Anaya’s voice, and he lost his footing and stumbled, tripping clumsily over the end of the bed. He popped up like he’d landed on a springboard. The towel he’d wrapped around his waist came undone during his acrobatic dance across the bedroom. He stood facing Anaya in nothing but his birthday suit.
“I missed you too, babe, but maybe we could say hello first before jumping into the sack,” Anaya said playfully.
Nick hunched over, bending slightly at the waist and placed his hands on his knees while he allowed a moment for the adrenaline dump to dissipate.
“Holy shit! What—I… why?” Nick babbled.
“I never heard back from you last night after you told me about your mom. I panicked and rebooked my flight for this morning,” Anaya said.
“Why didn’t you call me?” Nick said, but realized as soon the question left his mouth that he knew the answer.
“I did! I called you this morning. Multiple times. It went straight to voicemail. What was I supposed to think!” Anaya paused, but Nick could tell she wasn’t done and didn’t want to interrupt. “I was worried sick. I thought the absolute worst. I mean—your brother…”
“I’m so sorry. I—just… it’s been an insane couple of days,” Nick stammered.
Nick saw Anaya’s face soften.
“How’d you get home from the airport?”
“I grabbed an Uber.”
He picked up the damp towel from the floor and secured it once again, pulling it taut around his waist. Nick swiftly crossed the distance between them in a few long strides and took Anaya in his arms. The water rolled from his shoulders onto her coat that was still carrying a hint of coldness from the outside air.
Nick said nothing as he pressed his face deep into the soft brown skin of Anaya’s neck. He held tight and never wanted to let go, like clutching on to a lifeboat in a sea of sharks.
“I love you Nicholas Lawrence,” Anaya whispered in his ear.
The words slipped in past his rugged exterior and tore at the darkness. He melted into her embrace allowing her to heal him. Even though Nick towered over her in size, he suddenly felt small in her arms. He liked the power she had over him.
“Never do that to me again!” Anaya whispered with a deep-rooted intensity, making it seem more like a yell.
“Never do what?” Nick asked.
“Never disappear on me.”
“Okay. I’m sorry,” Nick said.
“Not good enough. Promise me!” Anaya pleaded.
Nick pulled back and looked into the dark eyes of the woman he loved. “I promise.”
Looking at her, he allowed his shock to subside. A new thought caused his eyes to widen. His mind focused as panic filled him.
“You shouldn’t have come back! You should’ve stayed with Mouse in Michigan!”
“I couldn’t. Not with you here all alone. Not after your mother—”
“It’s not safe! I’m not sure I can protect you,” Nick said. His voice quivered. He placed the palm of his hand on her stomach. “Protect both of you.”
“What do you mean protect us?” Anaya asked.
“I didn’t tell you when I called. It wasn’t the right time and I didn’t want you to worry more than I already knew you would.”
“What are you talking about Nick?”
“My mother’s death wasn’t a heart attack. She didn’t die of natural causes,” Nick said emphatically.
Anaya’s eyes widened. “What?”
“I told you there was a real threat to me…to us, and to any member of my family. You were safe in Michigan. You were away from this lunatic. I had this under control or I was at least working toward that end! Now, with you here, I’m at a tactical disadvantage.”
Anaya didn’t speak. She pulled away from Nick and dropped her head, breaking eye contact with him. He felt the air cool on his wet skin, replacing the warmth provided by her body. She gingerly took a seat on the edge of the bed and slowly began taking a long, deep breath.
“Are you okay?” Nick asked.
Anaya didn’t answer but instead held up her right hand with her index finger extended, indicating she needed a minute. He’d never seen her react this way. Nick knew Anaya to be as tough as they came. She’d endured more than most could fathom, and he’d spent countless hours listening intently to her stories of her traumatic childhood ravaged by the world of human trafficking. Seeing her reaction to their current situation worried him greatly.
“Breathe. Nice and slow. Try to keep your head up and focus on a specific point in front of you. Inhale through your nose and exhale slowly through your mouth. This will help control your breathing and keep you calm,” Nick said evenly.
Anaya nodded, but didn’t look up. Her breaths came in rapid succession, each one more shallow than the previous.
“I’m going to get you something to drink. And a damp rag,” Nick said, a trace of panic slipping into his inflection.
“Nick,” Anaya said, muffled by her ragged breathing. “Something’s not right.”
Nick dashed to the kitchen, his bare fleet slapping the tile floor, as he nimbly navigated the narrow hallway. He swiped his cellphone off the counter, ripping it free from the charger. Running back toward the bedroom, he depressed the power button, bringing the device to life. The phone’s cacophony of vibrations shook in his hand, alerting him to the barrage of missed calls and text messages.
His heart skipped a beat when he entered the bedroom to see Anaya curled in the fetal position on the floor. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her knees and her body trembled uncontrollably. She looked at him with eyes wide in terror as sweat moistened her brow. In the infinitesimal amount of time he’d taken to retrieve the phone, Anaya had gone through a complete metamorphosis into a huddled mess.
“Jesus!” Nick gasped, falling to the floor and cradling her head against his bare thigh.
“The baby.” Her voice labored to project the words. Her breath followed in quick shallow bursts.
Nick placed her head back down on the plush throw rug jutting out from under the bed. He jumped up and threw on a pair of pants and t-shirt. Forgoing all else, he scooped up Anaya into his arms. Although Anaya was petite, the strain of her dead weight caused Nick’s muscles to ripple with exertion. He cradled her as gently as he could. Her neck flopped loosely and her eyelids flickered rapidly as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Nick shuffled to the door with as much speed as he could generate, snagging the keys to the Jetta before pushing out into the gloom of November’s early dusk.
The dashed dividing lines of the highway blurred into one continuous white trail as Nick blazed forward, pushing the capabilities of the Volkswagen’s economical five-cylinder motor. He’d called ahead to the hospital to alert them of his impending arrival and given them a description of Anaya’s current condition. The nurse he’d spoken to was calm, and tried, without success, to reassure Nick. She advised they’d be standing by.
Nick smacked the curbing as he entered into the lane denoted for Ambulance only. Anaya groaned softly in the back seat at the jostling torque of the car. Nick’s bare foot stomped hard on the brake and the small four-door slid to a stop directly in front of the Emergency Room entrance.
As promised by the person he’d spoken to on the phone, several medical personnel were clustered inside the threshold of the sliding doors and poured out toward the car once it came to a complete stop. A team of people in colorful scrubs hustled over and began speaking to each other. The words held no meaning to him and were barely audible above the beating of his heart. Two large men in turquoise scrubs hoisted Anaya gently onto the gurney. Anaya remained curled in the same position she’d been in on the floor of their home. In a blur of movement, she was swept away by a rainbow of chaos.
A nurse approached holding a clipboard pressed tight against her chest. She was
heavyset with blue eyes. There was tranquility in her eyes that naturally induced a sense of calm. “Park your car over there. It’s supposed to be for doctors but nobody checks,” she said, pointing to a row in the parking lot. “I’ll be inside when you’re ready. I’ll get you over to the waiting area.”
Nick froze at hearing the words waiting area. Just three days ago it was Izzy and now here he was again, this time with Anaya.
“Are you okay?” the nurse said, eyeing him with concern.
Nick looked down at his bare feet and realized he must look like a lunatic. “Yeah. Sorry. I just—um… I’ll be right back. Thanks.”
Nick jumped in the car and parked in a spot marked ER Doctors Only. He jogged back to the entrance and entered the warmth of the lobby.
The blue-eyed nurse stood by a large leafy plant and smiled lightly. She held up a pair of light brown hospital socks. “These’ll be better than nothing.”
Nick quickly slipped them on, hopping on one foot for balance.
“Much appreciated,” Nick said gratefully.
The rubber ridges on the bottom of the socks gave Nick some much needed traction as he followed the nurse along the recently buffed floor. She was his Sherpa, guiding him along the uncharted territory of the hospital’s webbed corridors. She brought him into a room with a physical layout much like the one he’d waited in with Declan and Val. Unlike that room, it was crowded and loud. Even amidst the noise and commotion of the other visitors, Nick felt isolated. And for the first time in a very long time, he felt something, an almost foreign sensation. Fear. Palpable, and wholly undeniable.
Chapter 23
“I don’t know. Still waiting,” Nick said into his phone as he paced around the room.
“That’s the worst part. Anticipation takes its invisible toll. How are you holding up?” Simmons said.
Her voice echoed and Nick noticed a slight delay.
“Do you have me on speaker phone?”
“No. Why?” Simmons asked.
“My end’s got a little echo.”
“I’m in a stairwell. Give me a second, I’m just leaving Spangler’s office,” Simmons said.
“Anything?”
“Yes, but I think it can wait.”
“Bullshit! All I’ve been doing for the last hour is waiting. Give me something to occupy my mind. Something to distract me,” Nick pleaded.
“There was a letter left back at Pine Woods.”
“Letter? What letter?” Nick asked.
A fleeting thought graced his mind that his mother had written him something in one of her more lucid states. Words that would give closure to a soured end. He knew it was wishful at best and discarded the idea before it took root.
“The lawyer left it with the receptionist on his way out. She’d been off shift when things broke bad. She had put it aside and notified us when she came back to work today. I called earlier, but your phone was off. Figured it could wait.”
“What did it say?” Nick asked.
Nick heard a rustle of paper and a pause as Simmons cleared her throat.
“Not sure this is the right time, Nick.”
“Not sure there’s such a thing,” he mumbled. “Just read it.”
“All right. Same format as the one found on Mullins. Cut paper lettering and the like.” Simmons cleared her throat again. “I ended your beginning. Soon you will know mine.”
Nick was silent.
“Nick?”
“Yeah?” Nick was despondent.
“Let’s get this son of a bitch,” Simmons said.
“I’m all in.”
“I never had any doubts,” Simmons said.
“What’s the next step?” Nick asked.
“Well, I’m planning on heading back to Fatty McGee’s humble abode in a little bit,” Simmons said.
Her blow at Scalise’s expense tripped up his train of thought, allowing him to release the tension strangling him. Nick snorted a laugh.
“There’s no way I can leave Anaya tonight. I’ve got to be here for her.”
“I get it, and please trust me when I say I totally understand. I can go it alone tonight. I’ve got my big girl pants on,” Simmons said.
“I don’t like it.”
“What’s not to like? If the Ferryman shows up, I can throw a little reunion party for him. I’ve got a shiny pair of bracelets I’d like to give him,” Simmons jested.
“Take another person with you tonight. I insist,” Nick said.
“I didn’t know you cared,” Simmons gushed mockingly.
“Seriously, take someone from the office.”
“Who? You want me to grab Salazar? A new kid like that would be more likely to shoot me than the bad guy.”
“Let me think for a minute,” Nick said dismissively.
“Anyone you trust enough if something breaks bad?” Simmons asked.
Nick immediately thought of Declan but knew that was out of the question. His next thought was of Izzy and it saddened him profoundly.
“Nick? You still with me?” Simmons asked.
Nick snapped out of his spotty funk. “Yeah, sorry. Kemper Jones. He’s with APD. Solid as they come.”
“The name’s familiar,” Simmons said.
Nick said. “I think you met him on Pentlow’s scene.”
“He’s the one that tipped you off to me? The little birdie that whispered in your ear?”
Nick didn’t answer. Damn she was quick. Cheryl Simmons missed very little.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Simmons said.
“I trust him. And that’s something I don’t say about many people in this world.”
“You’re an interesting guy, Nick Lawrence.”
“How so?”
“An office full of agents, and when asked who you trust, you name a local,” Simmons said.
“You’re not the only one that has a hard time finding a partner,” Nick replied.
Simmons laughed into the phone.
“I’ll send you his number, so you can make arrangements with him. Give me a couple minutes so I can get him up to speed,” Nick requested.
“What you really meant to say is you need a couple minutes, so you can warn him about the crazy redheaded bitch he’s about to spend eight hours with?”
“He’s already afraid of you.” Nick chuckled. “I just need to let him know he’s about to spend the night in a car with you.”
“Sounds more like you’re setting me up on a blind date.”
“If you’re interested, the way to his heart is through a prime cut of smoked brisket,” Nick said.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do me favor and don’t go getting yourself killed.”
“I’ll do my best. And don’t you go worrying over little ol’ me. You’ve got more than enough on your plate right now. I’ll keep you posted if anything breaks,” Simmons said.
“Watch your six,” Nick said earnestly.
“Will do. I hope everything turns out okay for your girlfriend and the baby,” Simmons said softly.
“Thanks. Me too,” Nick said, ending the call.
The commotion inside the waiting room died down as people departed. There were noisy utterances of their dashed hopes or joyful elations as news of their loved one’s prognoses were delivered. Nick tried to temper his disdain as he waited for an answer. Time sluggishly passed, minutes felt like hours.
A clean-cut man with hair the color of brushed steel entered from a secure door marked Medical Personnel Only. He wore a pearl white lab overcoat over teal scrubs and walked directly toward Nick, bypassing all remaining guests in the waiting room. The man’s eyes, intensely focused, locked on Nick’s. The doctor’s wrinkles etched into the olive skin of his face marked his life’s experiences, equal parts pleasure and pain. Nick held on to the hope that the news soon to be delivered would not fall into the latter category.
“Mr. Lawrence?”
“Yes,” Nick said. He tried to sound confident, but what little r
eserve he had left in his emotional tank had drained and the effort came out flat.
“Anaya’s going to be all right,” the doctor said.
“What about the baby?” Nick asked, steadying himself for the blow.
“Absolutely fine.”
“Fine? Did you say fine?” Nick asked.
He’d heard the words, but his mind had already prepared for the worst and therefore didn’t comprehend them. Nick staggered and caught himself by grabbing at the nearby lip of the window sill, almost knocking over a potted plant.
“She had a panic attack, but that was it. She and the baby are all right.”
“What about the stomach pain?” Nick asked, still processing the information.
“Apparently she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. There was some intense cramping caused by some gastrointestinal distress. We put her on an electrolyte drip that will help give a quick boost. Food is already on the way up from the cafeteria.”
“I just thought she—the baby…” Nick trailed off without finishing the words.
“I’m sorry that we kept you waiting as long as we did. We had to run a battery of tests to ensure that everything was all right with both mom and child.”
“Run all the tests you need to. I’m just glad they’re going to be all right,” Nick said, righting himself, his panic quelled.
“It must have been terribly frightening for you. Anaya tells us that this is your first child?” the doctor said, giving him a warm smile.
Nick watched as the creases around the doctor’s eyes became more pronounced.
“Yes, it is. In a week of worsts, this brought me to full blown panic mode,” Nick said.
“Well, let’s not keep you two—correction, you three apart any longer. I’ll take you to her now,” the doctor said.
“Thank you. For everything.”
Nick stayed in stride with the doctor as they moved down the hallway. Nick’s rubber-bottomed socks gave a slight squeak as he kept pace with each step. The silver-haired doctor stopped outside of room 131, the door already open. The doctor stepped aside, tipped his head in a slight bow, and opened his arm as if he were Vanna White revealing the final letter. “I’ll leave you two alone.”
The Rabbit's Hole Page 12
