Big Papa was with him at his side, as he always was.
Downy’s relieved sigh had me turning to him just in time to see him yank the pole from my hand and wade over the rib high concrete barrier that kept the dogs in and fighting.
I felt someone at my side and turned to see Nico there, standing at my shoulder like a sentry.
Relieved, I turned my attention back to Downy.
He walked through the dogs, not scared at all that they were fighting and went to the two who mattered most to him.
Mocha and Peter were still back to back, but they had two large, muscular dogs on them.
They were holding them back, but just barely.
Using the cattle prod, he zapped the first dog he came to with his Taser.
Down like a sack of potatoes.
I’d never been so happy before in my life.
***
“How’d you find us?” I asked my dad as we waited for news on Downy.
“GPS,” he murmured.
I winced. He really hadn’t wanted to tell me he had GPS on me, I could tell.
“Where’s it at?” I asked quietly.
“Your birth control implant isn’t so much an implant, as it is a tracker,” he murmured.
I closed my eyes, not knowing what in the fuck to say to that.
“What. The. Fuck,” I asked, turning on him. “What the fuck, Dad!”
He grimaced. The lines of his face multiplying as he waited for the meltdown that he knew was coming. And oh, Good God Almighty, did I give it.
“You’ve got to be fucking shitting me!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs, drawing not just the attention of my mother, but every man in the room: cop and Dixie Warden alike.
He leaned forward, whispering to me warningly. “Sit down.”
“Sit down?” I asked shrilly. “You want me to sit down when you just told me that the ‘birth control implant’ in my arm that, now that I think about it was kind of weird for Mom to offer to take me to get, is not actually an implant, but a GP-fucking-S?”
“Yes,” he said, no bullshitting.
I laughed humorlessly. “Jesus, this is fuckin’ rich.”
And I couldn’t complain, could I?
My father had saved not only mine but Downy’s life, today. All because of a GPS he’d had implanted in my arm over three years ago.
“You know,” I said, a thought occurring to me. “I could be pregnant, all because you fucked me over. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
He grimaced. “That was a risk I was willing to take. I’m not a very liked man, and after you nearly lost your life, I made a promise that I would never see you hurt again. That was the solution that allowed me to sleep at night.”
I just shook my head. “Allowed you to sleep at night.”
He nodded.
I turned and surveyed the room.
My eyes lit on Chief Rhodes. “Can I press charges if I’m knocked up?”
His face was blank.
“Probably don’t need to be pregnant to press charges,” he acknowledged.
I could tell it pained him to be brought into the conversation. Sadly, the entire waiting room, which was filled with about eighty people, were witnessing my humiliation. What the fuck did I care if he was uncomfortable?
“Hmm,” I hummed, turning back to my father. “No apologies at all?”
He shook his head. “Not a one.”
I turned to my mother to see her staring in the opposite direction, her face blank.
“And you?” I asked softly.
She turned to me, her features tight, and replied. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
I threw my hands up. “Of course you would. Y’all are a match made in fucking hell.”
With that, I walked out of the waiting room, stomach in knots, not just about Downy, but my life in general, and went to the end of the hall.
That’s where I waited until the doctor came out an hour later.
“Hey,” I yelled, causing him to turn.
“Are you Downy’s doctor?” I asked frantically.
“Yes, are you his family?” he asked.
I nodded and gestured to the end of the hallway. “His fiancée. Come tell me what is going on before you tell the rest of them.”
He nodded and went into his explanation. “Mr. Downy had a lot of internal bleeding. It was practically everywhere. We did quite a bit of exploratory surgery on his abdominal area. His liver had a laceration on it that we were able to repair. His kidneys are bruised. His spleen was bruised. He has four cracked ribs. We repaired his orbital socket. His jaw wasn’t wired shut, but my best guess is that it’s going to be sore for quite a few weeks.”
I nodded, tears spilling over at the sheer amount of injuries he had. “Okay. What else?”
He took a deep breath. “He had a brain bleed. We didn’t operate on it, but we’re going to monitor it. He’s going to need to be in the hospital for a week, if not more.”
My eyes closed, but the tears still dropped.
“Is that all?” I asked.
Then I laughed. Was that all. What the fuck. That was enough. Enough for fifty people, let alone one man. A man that I loved with all my heart.
He nodded. “Yes. Mr. Downy will be in recovery for a few hours, and then will be moved to the medical ICU to be watched closely for the next day or so. You can go see him then.”
I nodded and watched him leave, heart lost and not knowing what to do to make it better.
In the end, I decided that the best thing I could go do right now was pick up the dogs from the vet, who’d been taken there to have any possible injuries detected and treated.
Luckily, we’d gotten a clean bill of health for them both.
By me going to the dogs, first, I was able to clear my head slightly.
And by the time I got back, I was in a much better state of mind.
That was until I walked up to see my father in Downy’s ICU room.
And what I heard set my world spinning on its axis. So completely lost that I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover.
***
Stone
I leaned down and made sure I was in whisper distance when I finally said what I had to say.
“I told you when I asked you to keep an eye on her, that if anything happened to her, I’d kill you. I have a feeling, though, that you understand more than me the consequences here. If you weren’t already shot and on the verge of death, I’d finish you off right here and right now,” I said to Downy.
Downy’s swollen, black eyes opened. They were bloodshot, the whites of his eyes nearly pure red.
The beating he’d received caused the capillaries in his eyes to burst, which then caused major trauma to his eyes as well as the tissue and bone around them.
A strangled gasp sounded from behind me, and I turned in time to see my daughter’s hair follow her out of the room.
I turned back to the man who was staring at the door with tears flowing out of his eyes, soaking his beard, and grimaced. “I’ll talk to her.”
His eyes moved to mine, and he pinned me with a look. A look that told me I’d better.
“She’s my breath,” he gasped.
I closed my eyes.
That was all I needed to hear.
Chapter 23
Don’t like cops? Next time you’re in trouble, call a cab. See where that gets you.
-Downy to a reporter
Downy
It’d been nearly three weeks, and I hadn’t seen her in two and a half of them.
The last time was in the hospital as she said goodbye, with me unable to move to tell her not to go.
I’d been drugged up on God knows what, and so out of my fucking mind that I couldn’t tell my own woman not to go.
I’d just laid there, my feet and arms not obeying what my mind was screaming for them to do.
I’d returned to work three days ago, and I alre
ady had a nickname.
Luke and Nico had started it.
And were currently giving me shit about it.
Bearded dragon.
Apparently, I was acting more grumpy than usual, and my beard was getting overly long.
“Beards. It’s Kevlar… for your face,” Nico jeered, throwing his head back and laughing his fool head off.
Apparently, I’d let my ‘beard’ get out of hand. Something that I could give less than a fuck about right at this moment in time.
I barely wanted to get out of bed each day. What made them think I wanted to shave my fuckin’ face?
“What’s wrong? Don’t think you can grow a beard as good as mine?” I played along.
They all had beards. It just so happened that mine was bigger than theirs. And a little more unkempt.
“You should respect his beard,” Michael chimed in as he led the way to the tattoo parlor we were currently walking toward. “It could crawl off his face and burn you alive.”
I shoved Michael, making him lurch forward and take a quick step up to avoid hitting his face on the door.
He did manage to laugh his ass off, though.
Pieces of shit.
It was good, though.
I needed the release.
We’d gone for a beer earlier, and now we were coming to Michael’s favorite tattoo parlor.
I was bound and determined to get myself a tattoo for her. To prove to Memphis just how much I fuckin’ loved her. That I didn’t watch over her because I was paid to.
Not that she’d given me the chance to explain.
I didn’t blame her, though. I’d have done the same thing if I were in her shoes.
Ten minutes later I found myself under another girl’s hands, and I felt like my skin was crawling.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “This isn’t going to work. I need a man to do me.”
I must’ve said it a little loud, because the men in the room beyond started to bellow like buffalos.
She gave me a sad look. “It’s okay, honey. If you’ll wait another ten minutes, I can get Peek to come in.”
I nodded and said, “Thanks.”
***
Memphis
The next day
“You’re overreacting,” Mercy said.
I winced. “Mercy…”
She shook her head. “I saw you two together at the Block Party. I know how y’all were together. That act wasn’t staged. You’re going to ruin something good here, all because you think your father betrayed you, but Downy didn’t. You don’t even know his side of the story.”
When I would’ve offered an instant rebuttal, she held her hand up.
She shook her head adamantly. “No. I’m tired of hearing you whine. You need to suck it up, buttercup. You miss him, and I have a very reliable source who tells me he misses you, too.” She pursed her lips. “In fact, my dad tells me that the men at the PD are calling him something.”
I raised a brow, curious now. “And what’s that?”
Mercy and I had become really good friends over the last three and a half weeks.
With me no longer being in school, and my job not starting until the temp’s contract finished, I had a lot of free time on my hands.
I used it to help Mercy and her band of Merry Men.
They were all actually quite cool.
Some of the veterans were okay, only needing a transitional job until they were able to find a job elsewhere.
However, there were a few of them who were recovering.
One man, Donald, was recuperating from his below the knee amputation, and was only able to do small things, such as paint what he could reach from his wheelchair.
Another, Briscoe, had somewhat severe PTSD, and he wasn’t able to work inside, so Mercy found him jobs where he was able to do outside work only.
She catered to these boys, and they loved her like crazy. Not in love, in love, but a true, pure love. Like one would love a sister or a family member.
They were all one big, tight-knit family, and I found that I loved helping where I could.
“Bearded dragon,” she said with a smile.
I just shook my head. “Jesus, I bet he’s loving that.”
She nodded. “From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t like it much at all.”
No, I wouldn’t think he would. He wasn’t the type of man to allow anybody to just make fun of him. I was fairly positive it was only coming from his friends. He wouldn’t tolerate it from anyone else.
“What’s going on with the investigation?” Mercy asked as our food arrived.
I took a deep breath and blew my hair out of my face.
“Not much, to be honest. Both men pled guilty. They’re going to be serving quite a bit of time, they’re just waiting for the DA to tell them exactly how much,” I shrugged. “From what I’ve been told, they made some sort of deal that would help uncover nearly fifty other dogfighting rings throughout the state of Texas.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Holy shit! I wasn’t aware they even had any dog fighting rings… let alone fifty.”
I nodded my head, taking a sip of my drink and inconspicuously looking over my cup at the man with his back to the room. That was another thing he wouldn’t have done three weeks ago, have his back to the room.
I’d seen him walk in with the rest of the men of the SWAT team and take a seat at the table closest to the bar.
He was wearing a t-shirt that said, bearded guys cuddle better.
A shirt I’d bought him about a week before I’d witnessed him get the shit beaten out of him. And then hearing the revelation of my father telling him that he’d failed at his job of ‘watching me.’
His usual smile was gone, and not once did he turn to where I was sitting.
He had to know I was there, though. My car was hard to miss, especially when he had to walk directly beside it to get in the front door.
“What about all those people who got caught?” she asked, dipping her French fry into ketchup.
“Those people,” Miller dropped down into the seat beside me and yanked me into his chest. “Are going down for three counts of animal cruelty, plus a slew of other charges.”
He then went on to steal some of my chicken, dipping it into the honey mustard before he shoved nearly the entire piece into his mouth.
Mercy giggled and I couldn’t help but do the same. “Help yourself, big man.”
He nodded and swallowed the chicken after only a few chews. “You won’t eat it all anyway. I’m only doing you a favor.”
I just shook my head. He was right, of course, but he didn’t need to know that. He’d just let it go to his head. “Wasn’t the mayor’s son there?”
He shook his head. “Nephew.”
My eyes strayed from Miller to Downy, who was not relaxed in the slightest anymore.
I could practically see the anger rolling off of him.
“When are you going to put him out of his misery?”
I blinked and looked over to Miller. “What?”
“Misery. When are you going to put him out of it?” Miller asked, gesturing to Downy.
I sighed. “I’ve always planned to. I just wanted him to know I was mad.”
He snorted. “That’s such a girl thing to do. Fuckin’ talk to him. It’s cruel and unusual punishment to do this to the man that you love.”
My brows lowered. “How do you know I love him?”
He shook his head, taking a sip of my coke before standing. “Anybody with two eyes in their head can see it. Y’all are like two magnets. He moves, you adjust. Been doing it since you got here. It’s like some invisible force field that only the two of you are allowed on. You can’t fake that. You’re in love with him, and you’ve shown us that over and over again.”
With that, he left us, and I only had Mercy’s smug face to stare at.
“Shut up,” I said.
“Go talk to him,” sh
e urged.
I watched as Miller got back and said something to the table as a whole, causing Downy to get up and leave before his food had even arrived.
“And take him his food,” she offered. “He deserves that and more.”
I pursed my lips. I hated being wrong.
***
Walking into his house, less than thirty minutes later, I smiled when Mocha walked up to me, licking me from top to bottom.
“Hey there, sweet girl. Did you miss me?” I asked her.
She wagged her tail and then went off with Peter to play in the backyard.
After watching them play for a few minutes, I followed the sound of the shower, finding the object of my desire there.
He was leaning against the tiled wall, both forearms planted near the top of the shower with his head hung.
Water ran in rivulets over his head, dripping down his face and hair as he looked at his feet.
A beer was in one hand, nearly all the way gone, held out of the water by a finger curled around the lip of the bottle. His other hand was grasping the showerhead, directing the flow of pounding water onto his head and neck.
The clear glass was new, as was the showerhead.
Stripping off my clothes in the other room, I came back naked, stepping into the shower and finally drawing his attention.
He didn’t much care at first, only looking over his shoulder like something cursory had caught his attention.
Then he saw me, and everything in his expression went blank.
“What are you doing here?” he rasped.
Well his words came out a little garbled since he didn’t even bother to move out from under the spray.
Water ran down his face and into his eyes as he looked me up and down. “To torture me some more?”
My nipples beaded at his perusal. “No. I came to tell you I’m sorry for acting like an ass.”
His eyebrows rose, but he still didn’t move out from under the water. “Huh.”
I suppressed a smile at the sound. “That’s all you have to say?”
He looked at me. “Well, I’ve had dreams for the last three weeks about you coming over here and telling me you forgive me. Then I wake up from my dream and it was all just a game. A sick, twisted nightmare that I have to live over every goddamned night. I’m just waiting to wake up, I guess.”
Code 11- KPD SWAT Box Set Page 59
