by Zoey Parker
Giving us a moment, the paramedic backs off and Lily and I hold each other. I give her back a good, deep rub, lowering my head to brush my lips over the top of her ear. “I love you, Lily.”
I hear a loud sob and I smile.
When she shifts her head back to meet my eyes, she smiles over the new wetness adorning her cheeks. “I love you too.”
“Ready?” the paramedic calls.
The other holds out a hand to help Lily. I keep my hands ready from the back. We don’t need her falling, and I need to prove to Lily I’ll always catch her.
# # #
From the ambulance we’re admitted into the hospital, and I finally can hold Lily’s hand and stay by her side uninterrupted as she’s transferred from stretcher to wheelchair. I kiss her, staying near as I check her in.
Lily is lucid, so she answers the desk nurse’s questions. One of the paramedics had been carrying her purse, and he passed it off to me.
Given her ID wristband, we’re directed to wait until a doctor can see us. It’s the nurse who arrives first, doing the preliminary checkup as I help Lily move from the wheelchair to the empty bed in the patient room.
“I’m pregnant,” Lily tells her while the nurse notes her blood pressure. Drawing off the cuff, she makes another mark on her clipboard form. “But I haven’t officially seen a doctor yet.”
“That’s fine.” The nurse smiles, “We’re going to give you full blood work to see if everything’s all right. And we’ll check to see if baby’s doing well too.”
Alone in the room, I can’t control the urge to hug her again. I squeeze Lily tight, finding her lips in a bruising kiss, and murmuring more affirmations of my love for her.
“Luke, I…” she stammers. “Art…Dayton,” she says, and I kiss her again, wriggling my tongue between her mouth, coaxing hers to come play.
Two sharp knocks haul me from her mouth. I move back with one final squeeze and the doctor pushes her way in.
The young woman introduces herself as a third-year resident, and her teal scrubs have a St. Louis University Medical logo on it. She asks Lily general questions and I’m relieved to hear that Lily is in no pain. Then the resident doctor is replaced by the nurse from earlier who’s returned with equipment. She begins by taking Lily’s blood and then hands her a cup to provide a urine sample.
Lily shyly snatches it, murmuring, “I’ll be right back.” The nurse directs her to the restroom down the hall.
While waiting alone, I seize the opportunity to call Russ. I lost touch with him, but he damn better well know I’m coming for answers. For starters, why the hell is my girl saying the bastard detective’s name?
I hated hearing Lily speak Dayton’s name, and knowing he’s involved pisses me off. But I’m not surprised.
Russ doesn’t pick my call up. Instead, he calls right back after I’ve tucked away my phone.
“Luke, sorry,” he greets.
‘Not yet’, I’m about to say, but Russ goes on to add, “It’s Dayton. He killed Keith.”
“Shit.” My mind flashes back to the body bag being carted out of Lily’s apartment. In her text, Lily said Keith was there. Instinct told me the guy was up to no good, so I told Lily to get out and I called her. She never answered and the next time I saw her, she was a crying mess recoiling from the officers’ guns.
So it’s not shocking when Russ tells me, “The bastard was in on it with Art, offered him a ride in his car. That’s why I couldn’t find Dayton when he parked at the station and went inside. He wasn’t in his office, and I’m suspecting he took a back exit out of the building. There’s a road back there. Keith must have been waiting for him; let him know about my tailing them.”
“Where’s he now?”
“Safe and sound.” Russ is confident. It’s enough for me to loosen up my worry. “He’s out for the count, but when he wakes, I’d like to know what I should do.”
‘Kill him’ is on the tip of my tongue, but Lily comes to mind. Call it love turning me sappy, but whatever it is, I can’t give Russ the cue. Instead, realizing he’s waiting patiently for a response, I say, “Keep an eye on him. I’m on the way.”
Before we click off, I get another call.
I recognize the number.
Kerry is hysterical. She bombards me with questions, and I wonder why she hasn’t called Russ.
I tell her Lily’s fine and let her know which St. Louis hospital we’re at. Kerry hangs up with the promise to be here soon.
True to her promise, Kerry arrives shortly after Lily and I have settled down in the waiting area. We’ve been removed from the patient room to clear up the line forming outside. It’s an evening on a weekday, and the waiting area’s packed enough.
We find two chairs though, Lily cuddling close once I drop my arm over the back of her chair. She’s resting her head on my chest, but she lifts it at her name.
Kerry is torpedoing toward us, getting the looks of nursing staff, residents, doctors, and patients alike. Lily hops up in time to catch her friend’s hard, fast embrace. They babble, sniffling and talking over each other. When they settle, I stand for Kerry to take my seat.
“You’re leaving?” Lily asks. She makes to stand when I inform her I’m stepping out. Not liking her frown, I reach out and peck her mouth.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper against her mouth. To Kerry, I ask, “Take care of her?”
Her friend fiercely nods, her dark red curls bouncing. More shyly, she says, “You tell Russ I’m due a call. He won’t answer.” She scowls. “I hope he’s all right.”
“He is.” I confirm speaking to him and I create an excuse for him. He hasn’t shared the full extent of his life with Kerry, but that’s between them. For now I promise her I will pass her message along and see to it that he’s informed of her loving concern.
“I’m on my way,” I tell Russ when I call him in the taxi. The cab drops me off at Lily’s apartment where I see activity is still hopping. Lawson is nowhere in sight, but there’s that human wall of blue bloods keeping folks from exiting or entering the building in the preliminary stages of their investigation.
Russ must have done a terrific job of cleaning up traces of Dayton. He knows how to make himself disappear from a scene. He extended that courtesy to the asshole of a detective. In my own ride, I make a more detailed call and Russ gives me his coordinates.
I find myself at one of many dilapidated, abandoned buildings in St. Louis. There are thousands, small and large, but Russ chose a two-story, puke yellow edifice on a lonely street corner.
The building must have once housed apartments up top and a deli on the bottom. I enter under the long-ago deli shop’s faded sign.
Russ has Dayton tied up on the floor with his own cuffs. It’s a satisfying turn of events for the heartache and mental unrest he’s given Lily and me the last month and, more so, in the last hour.
Dayton lifts his head at my voice.
He turns and offers me up a hoarse laugh. His face, I now see, is battered, riddled with dried blood and the beginnings of bruising around his cheeks and both eyes. Russ has his fists tucked under his arms, but I make out the black wrist wraps.
So, he started without me.
“Come to fight your own battles?” A groan breaks up his laughter before he chuckles again.
“You had Keith Raymond in your pocket?” I ask, ignoring his question.
“Maybe,” Dayton’s mouth tugs up with a grin. He’s blind to the fresh blood splitting through the middle of his swollen bottom lip. “No, I don’t need dirty hands to do my work. I’ve left that to you.”
“What was your endgame? You go around, question my girlfriend and past and present business clients, and expect to have your promotion handed to you as I pass you on the way to jail?
Dayton’s lips droop. I’ve hit a nerve.
Punching at it some more, I say, “But you see, you’ve picked the wrong family to mess with. The wrong man.”
“Could have started out small, worked your
way up, but you got greedy.” I wave my hand in front of my face. “Blinded by that greed you decided to play with big fish using small-minded tactics.”
“Shut up,” Dayton snaps. “You’re nothing, Hanley. Nothing but trash I’ve taken out time and time again in my service to the SLMPD. You’re fucking garbage, and it’s time someone stood up, someone who didn’t kiss your lazy, silver spoon-fed ass, and took you out to the trash bin.
“I happen to be that guy. Seeing through your gold-gilded, rose-scented crap to the son of a cold-hearted bitch you really are. You killed men like Derrick Smyth before, doled out your idea of punishment, and you think I’m the freak of nature. Fuck you.” He spits in the air. It lands shy of my shoes.
I’m suddenly glad for the distance. It keeps me from lunging at him and choking off his air, cutting off this tirade of his.
Let him talk. Better he incriminate himself. I have my phone recording, catching it all. I’d hand him and a USB drive with the recording to the St. Louis police force. I’d send it to the commissioner if I had to get results that see Dayton locked up for life for murder one on Keith and attempted murder with Lily.
Just thinking of his being at Lily’s to kill her has me seeing red. Then Dayton barks a sharp laugh.
“Oh, if only you could see what I did to her.” He hoots. “She’s ruined, your girl. I fucked her up real good.”
I pause, breathing deep, grounding myself. He’s trying to rile me. Lily is off-limits, and I never want to hear him say her name, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of beating his ass within an inch of his life.
“Or should I say,” Dayton drawls, “I fucked her.”
Russ rips me off of Dayton.
I had him by the throat, felt his life squeeze through my fingertips, his erratic pulse fighting for air. I’m breathing hard, shoving Russ off, jabbing a warning finger at Dayton.
“You and I are done.” I punctuate each word.
It’s as final as it can get. Russ stays behind, but I’ve left it to him. Dayton’s life is in his hands.
Breathing in the crisp autumn air outside, I stride to my car, keys in hand. I’m ready to go home, ready to forget Art Dayton forever...ready to start my life with Lily. I can’t drive fast enough back to the hospital; it’s a miracle I don’t get stopped by police.
Lily isn’t alone when she directs me via text to the hospital’s cafeteria. She’s done with the doctors and I’m praying for good news.
Shocked by the sight awaiting me, I slow by Lily’s side at a table seating four. My father is there, and Ellen, as well as Kerry returning with Julie, the two girls happily chattering away.
I smack a kiss on Lily’s smiling mouth.
Glancing up at my family and Lily’s friend, I know they all approve when Ellen beams at us, Floyd Hanley winks, and Julie and Kerry give a thumbs up.
“I have a present for you,” Lily’s lips twitch with her smile. She has a plain, square-ish envelope in her hand.
Accepting it, I lift the arm I have around her waist to flip open the envelope’s tab and draw out the contents. My heart throbs harder, mouth drying, eyes burning.
“That’s it, him or her—our baby?” I know the answer, but turning to her, her eyes dewy, she nods.
And this time, in front of witnesses we both care so dearly for, people I fought to protect from Art Dayton’s brand of evil, I tell Lily what I’ve felt grow stronger each day I spend with her.
“I love you.” I breathe my soul into each of those three words.
Lily leans in and touches our mouths, her breath mine, and mine hers. “I love you too.”
Epilogue I
Lily
Ten months later…
“Are you crying?”
I wipe at my eyes and face Ellen and Floyd Hanley. They’ve pulled off the dance floor where they shocked everyone with their fast feet and quick moves, and they gesture at the empty seats at my table. I nod for them to sit.
Kerry insisted that as her most favorite, valued bridesmaid I should be sitting with the others near the head table, but I chose to sit nearer the exit. It’s the first time I’ve left Noah at home and my heart is panging.
But smiling at Ellen and Floyd’s concerned faces, I say, “It’s nothing. I just miss the baby.”
Ellen shakes her head, her smile warm. “Oh, dear,” she pats my hand and then surprises me with a hug. She squeezes me tight and soon I’m grateful for the embrace, glad to pour some of the maternal grief out to an understanding ear. Floyd nods my way, his eyes bright and sympathetic.
“Where’s my son?” He raps the tabletop with his knuckles. “You two should be giving us a preview of your dance moves so we know how far to steer clear at your wedding.” Floyd shares a look and grin with Ellen.
“Luke can’t dance?” I ask, looking between them.
“What? You didn’t know about his two left feet? More like hooves.” Floyd throws his head back, laughing. “Oh, you’re in for a real treat then. Forget about the bride not revealing her dress to the groom, Luke has to keep his dancing under wraps.”
Ellen gives my hand a squeeze. “Don’t you worry a smidgen—that’s what dance classes and choreography are for; we’ll get Luke into shape before the big day.”
I take a sip of my water, shyly informing them, “There’s no wedding date yet.” I don’t add that there’s no engagement ring either, or a proposal. Sure, Luke and I moved in together, and baby Noah’s finally here, brightening our world. But that’s it. Lately I can’t shake this stuck-in-limbo feeling shadowing me everywhere I go.
My family doctor referred me to a psychologist, but I know she was thinking post-partum depression. There’s no pregnancy blues with Noah. If anything I’m learning to cope with separation anxiety from my little baby boy.
It’s getting to the point that I hear his cooing.
“Oh!” Ellen’s exclamation and wide eyes have me turning to answer Luke’s deep, rumbling voice.
“What’s that about my two cloven hooves?”
“Noah,” I gasp, leaping up and circling my chair to Luke and the car seat he’s carrying delicately in both hands. We’re both staring down at our boy, wide awake and cooing up at us, flailing his fat little arms through the nautical-themed shirt.
I hug Luke, burrowing my face in his side, crying again. He seems to understand as he smooths his hand over my back. He spent most of the evening dealing with my whining for Noah. I felt bad considering we’re here to celebrate Kerry and Russ’ whirlwind romance and wedding.
“I slipped out to relieve the babysitter early. Noah woke up during the ride, but he’s in a good mood. For now.” Luke grins. We’ve both had our late nights blundering around, rocking the baby back to sleep.
Settling Noah down on the table, all four of us gather around him.
“He’s such a precious little thing.” Ellen reaches out to stroke his cheek with a finger. At nearly one month old, Noah makes a grab for her digit, holding her fast with his tiny hand.
“A fighter, that’s what he is. He has Hanley blood in him all right.” Floyd nods. But did he ever doubt it?
Noah’s tuft of white, barely-there blond hair is enough of a salute to his father. But he has my dark eyes, and they’re now assessing us all with much infantile curiosity. One day he’ll be able to pick out his parents and my heart swells, eager to catch every moment with him.
“So?” Ellen rounds on us, on Luke really. “When’s the big day?”
“Soon,” Luke insists. He squeezes me tighter to his side, his fingers massaging my hip bone.
Floyd nods, hands straightening the lapels of his tuxedo. As Luke tells me, Floyd insisted on dressing super-formally for the picnic-themed wedding. We took the reception to a community hall, though, once we enjoyed the ceremony and early drinks outside.
“Just don’t take too long.” He warns. “Some of us old geezers would like to be there.”
“We won’t. It’ll happen.” Then Luke changes the topic to the bride a
nd groom, a little too hastily in my opinion.
While he chats up Ellen about Russ and Kerry’s plans for their honeymoon cruise and week-long resort stay in some warm island paradise, I fade out of their conversation.
I frown, ducking my head to Noah before Luke can see. We’re as close to a family as possible, without the legal institution of marriage binding us together.
For some reason I think of the late Art Dayton. I haven’t thought of the detective since his suicide was reported in both St. Louis and Potentia ten months ago, a week after he attacked me in my apartment.
