by Tia Fielding
If he’d died in Afghanistan though, he wouldn’t have seen Mom again. He wouldn’t have seen Charlie again, or met Lennox, or made love with Quinn again. Of course he was glad to be alive.
“How does your shoe stay on?” Lennox asked curiously.
Aaron peeled his sock down. “There’s a fake foot so I can wear shoes. You can get prosthetics that are shaped like real legs too, but I didn’t like those. They look weird to me.”
Lennox hummed thoughtfully and reached out to touch the titanium. “Is it heavy?”
“No, it’s pretty light,” Aaron said. “It’s about the same as a leg would weigh.”
He smiled as Lennox lifted his feet off the floor, testing how much his legs weighed.
Aaron gripped the arm of the couch and pulled himself to his feet. He grinned at Lennox as he headed for the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s make some sandwiches or something, huh?”
“Okay,” Lennox said, darting to his feet again. Then he stopped suddenly and stared out the front window. “That’s that truck again.”
“What do you mean?” Aaron walked over to him and looked outside just in time to see a black truck vanish out of his sight down Main Street.
“It’s gone past three times already since we’ve been here,” Lennox said. “And we haven’t even been here that long.”
“Yeah,” Aaron said, dread pooling in his gut. “Let’s go make that sandwich, huh?”
Quinn wandered toward the kitchen, and Aaron watched the window a little longer.
The truck was back again in minutes, slowing as it passed Aaron’s driveway.
Aaron only got a glimpse of the driver, but it was all he needed: Jimmy MacGregor.
* * * *
The knock on the door came fifteen minutes later, and Lennox darted forward to answer it. Aaron let him, because he’d already seen the cruiser pull up into the driveway. Lennox pulled the door open, grinning up at Uncle Will.
“Hi, Sheriff Henderson!”
Uncle Will reached out and tousled Lennox’s hair. “Hi, Lennox Kyle. Shouldn’t you be in school?”
Lennox shrugged and wrinkled his nose.
“What’s your mom thinking letting this reprobate babysit you?” Uncle Will asked. His tone was stern, but he winked to let Lennox know he was kidding. “Aaron can’t even cook! Luckily he can use his phone though, because he sent me a text message saying you guys had a breakfast burrito emergency.” He produced a paper bag from behind his back and handed it to Lennox.
Lennox opened it with a grin. “Thanks, Sheriff! It smells great!”
“Go eat in the kitchen,” Uncle Will said.
Lennox hurried away.
Uncle Will’s smile vanished the moment he was gone. He said, in an undertone, “What’s going on, kid?”
Aaron drew a shaky breath. “You’re busy. Shit, I know you’re so busy this morning, and I wouldn’t have texted you unless it was an emergency.”
“I’m the boss, son. I set my own schedule.” Uncle Will moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not here to yell at you for pulling me away from a crime scene that isn’t going anywhere, Aaron. Just tell me what’s going on, okay?”
“Jimmy MacGregor drove around the block a bunch of times just before you got here,” Aaron said. “Slowed down every time when he was passing the house, like he was trying to look in.”
Uncle Will’s expression hardened. “I need to talk to Jimmy MacGregor.”
“To arrest him for shooting Ian?”
Uncle Will raised his eyebrows. “News travels fast in Spruce Creek, doesn’t it?”
“I heard it from Quinn.” Aaron’s stomach clenched. “He’s worried Jimmy might come after Lennox, because…”
Uncle Will hummed. “I’ve got eyes in my head, kid. I know why.”
Aaron held his gaze. “He’s also worried Jimmy might come after me.”
Will’s brows drew together. “After you?”
“Me and Quinn,” Aaron said, his voice rasping. “We’re sleeping together.”
He almost flinched at the look of shock he saw in Uncle Will’s face.
Uncle Will caught himself. “No, Aaron. It ain’t that, okay? If this is you coming out to me…well, I feel like we ought to be having two different conversations here, because coming out? I’m happy for you, kid, if you’re happy.” His mouth turned down. “MacGregor, though? Jesus. I mean, I know pickings must be slim in a place like this, but Jesus!”
“Yeah.” Aaron dragged his fingers through his hair, guilt twisting in his stomach when he realized he’d sworn to keep Quinn’s secret, even if it meant people thinking the worst of both of them.
“And you think Jimmy knows?” Uncle Will asked. “Which puts you in his sights if he’s gone off the deep end? And considering it looks like he shot his own father, I think we can guarantee he’s gone off the deep end.”
“It’s hard to keep a secret in a town this small,” Aaron said. “Maybe someone saw Quinn leaving here or something, or parking close by.”
Uncle Will hummed, and then tightened his grip on Aaron’s shoulder. Dug his fingers in. “I’ve got your back, okay, Aaron? I’ve got everyone out looking for Jimmy already. I won’t let him get near you, or Charlie’s boy either. You hear me?”
“Yeah,” Aaron said, warm relief coursing through him. “I hear you, Uncle Will.”
“Good.” Will smiled and released him. “Now how about we get into the kitchen and grab our burritos before Lennox eats them all?”
Aaron laughed and nodded. “Okay. Sounds like a good idea.”
They headed for the kitchen.
Chapter 15
Aunt Karen stepped out of the house with her purse in her hands, looking all business. Her eyes were red-rimmed as she climbed into the passenger’s seat.
Quinn turned to her and reached out, awkwardly hugging her close in the cramped space. She trembled and her breathing hitched a few times, but she kept the sobs at bay.
When he pulled back and looked at her, she nodded solemnly, then wiped under her eyes. She wasn’t wearing makeup, so either she hadn’t had time to put any on or she’d already ruined it once.
“Where to?” Quinn asked, driving back out of the yard.
“They’re flying him to Vegas as we speak,” she said, attempting a normal tone without quite succeeding.
“Alright.” Quinn turned on the radio and left it on low, and started the long drive to Las Vegas.
They were barely outside of Spruce Creek when Karen’s shoulders shook enough that Quinn noticed.
“Hey, I’m not going to lie and say it’s gonna be okay, but let’s not borrow trouble, okay?” He reached for her hand and squeezed it.
She was quiet for a while, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m not sure I’m ready yet,” she whispered.
Quinn understood that. She’d known Ian’s time would be up soon because of the cancer. This wasn’t something she’d prepared for. Quinn wasn’t naïve enough to think she hadn’t been prepared for the chance of her husband taking a bullet at some point, but nobody had really thought it would happen now.
“I don’t think there’s such a thing as being ready.”
She nodded and started to sob, holding onto her composure as well as she could, it seemed.
“Hey, remember what you told me when I was a kid?” Quinn glanced at her as he pulled his hand away to change the gear.
She sniffled into a handkerchief she’d dug out of her purse. “What’s that?”
“Whenever something would happen and we’d end up hurt and crying,” Quinn started, barely managing to not say Jimmy’s name when trying to comfort his mother in this situation Jimmy might be guilty for. “You’d come to us and clean us up and then tell us we had ten minutes, you remember that?”
She chuckled wetly. “Y-yeah, I do. Ten minutes to be miserable about the hurt, but then after that, you need to stop crying and be strong again,” she quoted herself.
“Yeah, so Aunt Karen, consider this you
r ten minutes. Then we’re going to stop somewhere on the way so I can have something to eat because I didn’t have time for breakfast. You need to be strong for Uncle Ian, so use your ten minutes carefully.” He squeezed her hand again, then turned up the music just a bit.
She laughed, but then it was clear she really let herself feel the pain. She began to cry uncontrollably, her whole body shaking as she wailed.
He could hear the change of tone when she got pissed off towards the end of her allocated ten minutes. He kept an eye on her, and when she shrieked in anger and her hand shot forward, he quickly grabbed her arm.
“Do not punch my piece-of-shit car,” he said firmly. “It’s not much, but it’s my only vehicle and this is not the time to have a broken hand.”
She tensed, then relaxed gradually and snorted. “Fine. I just…”
“I know. Trust me, I know.” He let go, and she began to make herself presentable again.
* * * *
They stopped on the way once to grab what Karen called brunch in one of the small towns. They were still sitting at the café when she got a call that Ian was in a Vegas hospital, headed into surgery.
She got back to the car just fine, and steeled her shoulders. Then she dug out prayer beads from her purse and began to pray silently.
Quinn could remember those beads. They were her mother’s. Karen was from an Italian family, and her parents had been good, hardworking, very religious immigrants. She’d lost them both relatively young. In a crisis, the beads came out and they seemed to have a calming effect on her, even though she wasn’t particularly religious herself.
Once they got closer to Las Vegas, Karen put the hospital into her phone’s map app and Quinn navigated there with ease, even in the lunch time traffic.
It took them maybe half an hour to get from the parking structure to the waiting room, and all the while, Karen bit her lip and kept her composure, the beads wrapped around her hand.
There was no news, other than Ian had gotten to the hospital in time. He was alive, they were doing their best, and…then, then they waited.
People came and went around them. Nurses, family members of patients, doctors. Some got good news, others were in for the long haul. There was one set of bad news delivered to someone else, and Karen burrowed herself under Quinn’s arm and he held her like he would’ve his own mother.
He quietly thought that Jimmy not making an appearance was telling as fuck. He didn’t need to voice the words, Karen knew it already, and she wasn’t happy.
Quinn wasn’t sure how long it took for a doctor to step through the doors and ask for the MacGregor family.
“We were able to fix most of the damage the bullets did to his body, but we discovered his cancer has spread aggressively,” the doctor said, her expression kind, too kind. “I’m not going to lie to you, Mrs. MacGregor, it doesn’t look good.”
Karen’s knees gave out, and Quinn grabbed her.
“Can we see him?” he asked as Karen sobbed.
“Yes, I’ll have a nurse come get you once he’s settled in a room at the ICU. If there’s anyone you need to call, I would definitely do that now. I’m so sorry,” she said, and left the waiting room.
Quinn maneuvered Karen into one of the seats and let her cry. She’d known this could happen. Of course she’d known.
He took out his phone, then glanced at the no cell phones sign on the wall. “Karen? I’m going to go call Arthur and my mom. Is there anyone else you want me to call?” He kept his tone pointed, needing to know if she wanted Jimmy to come.
She shook her head. “A-Arthur will take care of spreading the news to those who need to know.”
“Alright. I’ll be right back.”
He found his way back outside and tried to breathe evenly. Then he called Arthur.
“Quinn, what’s the situation?” Ian’s best friend asked, his voice serious as ever.
“It’s…it’s not good. He got through surgery, but the cancer has spread and…and they seem to think he won’t make it.” Quinn slumped against the wall as the implications of his own words hit him.
He hadn’t heard Arthur curse many times in his life, and the barrage the man let out now made Quinn blink.
“Alright. I’m not going to make it there. I’m going to make sure everything stays calm here for the time being, spread the news, that sort of thing.” Arthur paused and cleared his throat, then said, more quietly, “Tell Ian I wish him peace.”
That almost broke Quinn. The men had been friends for all their lives and now Arthur couldn’t come to say goodbye. “I’ll tell him that, and that you love him.”
Arthur let out what might’ve been a huff. “Alright.”
“And you make sure if it all comes to a head, you and the wife are ready to leave town,” Quinn said, getting back to business for Arthur’s comfort.
“She’s already packing, just in case.”
“Good. I’ll let you know if the situation changes.”
“Talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
Quinn stood there in the Las Vegas early afternoon sunshine and breathed for a while.
Then he called his mom.
“Hello, sweetheart,” she said, her tone wary.
“Hi Mom. I’m just calling to let you know that Ian is in the hospital. They don’t think he’ll make it.”
“Oh no. What happened?” He could see her in his mind’s eye, holding her hand to her mouth as she paced. She always paced during serious calls.
“He was shot. They medevacked him to Vegas and I drove Karen here.”
She gasped. “And Jimmy is not with you?” They both knew what she was really asking.
“No, he’s not.” He let his head drop, locking his knees so he could slump a little more while staying upright. “I don’t know where this is going, Mom.”
Since she knew he was there on a job, she had a vague idea of what exactly he meant. “What happens if there isn’t a MacGregor running the business in Spruce Creek?” She voiced what he’d been thinking about, too.
“I have no idea.” He just hoped it wouldn’t turn into some sort of a turf war between smaller groups and what might be left of Ian and Jimmy’s crews who wouldn’t get jail time over whatever this would turn into.
“Stay safe. Tell Karen to come to me if she has nowhere else to go. Keep me informed, you hear?”
“If…if something happens, Day will call you.”
“I know. That’s not who I want to hear from, though.” Her tone was firm, snappy, as if she was commanding him to stay alive so she wouldn’t have to ever get that call from Day.
“I love you, Mom,” he whispered.
“Love you too, baby. Go be there for Karen and Ian, now.”
He said bye, then stared at his phone. He texted Aaron and Charlie in their group chat.
Ian made it through surgery but probably not for much longer. Keep your eyes open, guys. If anything seems sketchy, you get the hell out of town.
He couldn’t worry about them. Not now. Not when he had Karen to keep afloat until he could get her, too, out of town.
* * * *
Uncle Ian was hooked up in what seemed like half of the equipment in the hospital. Karen sat next to his bed in a chair, holding his hand that looked too normal, too much like the hand Quinn had shaken just days ago.
Quinn leaned over Ian and whispered Arthur’s message to him, then pulled another chair and sat there with Karen. She held onto Ian with one hand, the other occupied by the beads, silent tears rolling down her face.
Quinn stayed awake only because of the intermittent visits from nurses and the doctor. They were always kind and polite, sympathetic to a point that told Quinn more than he wanted to know.
“Quinn?” Aunt Karen nudged him sometime in the evening.
“Huh?” He jerked upright, startled as hell. “What is it?”
“I want you to go get a hotel room from somewhere nearby. Go get dinner, then go sleep for as much as you can.” Before h
e could object, she shook her head. “No. You need to rest. You need your strength and your wits. I’ll call you if anything changes and I’ll keep Arthur updated too.”
She looked determined in the way that told him it made no sense to try and talk her around.
“Okay.” He got to his feet and kissed her cheek. Then he went to squeeze Uncle Ian’s fingers and leaned in to kiss his cheek, too. “In case you go while I’m gone, I wanted to say I love you. You have been the best father figure I’ve ever had, Ian. Rest easy. Thank you.”
Without looking at Karen so he wouldn’t burst into tears, Quinn made his way out of the room, the ICU, and the hospital.
* * * *
Day called him late that night as he tossed and turned in his hotel room bed.
“What’s the situation?” Day asked, sounding more harried than usual.
“Ian is in the hospital. Jimmy shot him, or at least one of his guys because he’s not here.” Quinn stared at the ceiling above the bed.
Day hissed. “Shit. How bad?”
“He’s not gonna make it.” Then he explained what Brody had seen the previous night that somehow felt like it had happened days ago, not less than 24 hours.
“Okay, I’m going to urge them to start making preparations. How long do you think we’ll have?”
“Not long. I would hope he gives us time to bury his father, but with Jimmy, apparently you never know.”
“Alright, be ready and don’t take any risks. That’s not why you’re there. And for the love of all that’s holy, wear your fucking vest if you have to go in.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Quinn replied to the old argument. “You know I can’t move in those. Bye.”
“Talk to you later. Bye.”
It took him time to fall asleep, but by the time he got to the hospital around seven and forced Karen to go to the cafeteria, he felt much better.
Quinn looked at Ian, the way his larger than life uncle seemed so fragile now. Briefly, Quinn wandered if Ian was even still inside the body that looked nothing like the vibrant man Quinn had known all his life. He looked weak and wan, colorless. He’s been such a vibrant man, so loud and full of life, and now he looked diminished.
