Teague looked at her in disgust and shook his head. “So that’s how it is? You’re going to use my own brother to remind me who holds the power here? While I can’t even get in to see him for two more days, you’ll be making decisions about his well-being? And no matter what I say, you’re going to force him to be cared for by a man who probably thinks he ought to be put down like a dog.”
“Teague!” she snapped, rage shooting through her. She saw a flash of regret in his eyes, but then it was replaced with something that looked a lot like hate.
“I’ll get another room,” he said, his voice as cold as ice. “I’ll be at the prison at ten a.m. day after tomorrow when my suspension is lifted. I’d appreciate it if you could let me know if there’s any significant change in his condition.”
He turned and wrapped one big, strong hand around the doorknob. Without facing her, he added, “And don’t be there when I go to see him.”
The door slammed behind him, leaving her to do what Deanna Forbes always did best—survive.
Chapter 19
Teague hoped the guard couldn’t see how his hands shook as he handed over his ID. He’d managed to survive two full days locked in a mediocre hotel room while his brother fought for his life. Now it was nine fifty-nine in the morning on day three, and he was finally going to see Roland for the first time in seventeen years.
The guard spoke into his radio, then motioned for Teague to follow him. They walked a few yards and then stepped into a small waiting room with a table and two chairs.
“They’re just finished up some exercise time in the yard, so we need to wait until they have everyone back inside,” the young guard said.
Teague nodded, looking at the man’s name tag—Creed, it read.
“Interesting surname,” he said, pointing to the name tag.
The young man nodded sharply. “If we were in my hometown in Texas, you’d know lots of us.”
“You come from a big family?” Teague asked, noticing the guard’s light accent now that he’d mentioned Texas.
“Yeah, there’s five of us kids—well, six—it’s complicated. Plus a lot of cousins, aunts, uncles. We’re like rabbits.”
Teague laughed, thankful for the lightening of mood when so much of his recent time had been nothing but dark.
“So explain the complications of maybe five but maybe six siblings?”
He watched as a shadow passed over the other man’s eyes, and the lightness he’d felt drained out of him.
“Four brothers plus me is five. But we had a sister. She disappeared fifteen years ago. We’ve never found out what happened to her.”
Teague’s gut curled up into a ball. “God, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice tight. “I really stepped into that one, didn’t I?”
The guard smiled at him gently. “It’s okay. It’s what happens. In all these years I’ve never figured out the best way to answer the question of ‘how many brothers and sisters do you have?’”
Teague nodded and they sat in silence for a few beats. “I’m here to see my brother,” he confessed. “I’ve never visited him. We did know where he was—we just acted like we didn’t care.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” the guard said. “Families of inmates go through a hell of a lot.” He paused. “Not unlike families of the victims of inmates.”
Teague looked at him and there was a moment of brotherhood, a common understanding of what it meant to have someone you loved taken from you, no matter what form that absence bore.
“I’m Teague—“
“Roberts,” the man interrupted. “I know. And I hope that they give you the confirmation. No matter what some people might say, I can only believe that your experiences with this world will make you a better judge.”
The radio squawked again and the guard listened, then answered with a “ten-four” before he stood and opened the door.
“Thank you.” Teague smiled warmly. “And your first name?”
“Asher. I’m only here doing training, my regular job is back at a Texas facility on death row. But hopefully I’ll see you again before I leave. “
Teague nodded and they exited the room, making their way to another building where Asher handed Teague off to a new guard. Teague kept his mouth shut and his head down, exercising the most caution he could in order to ensure he didn’t get tossed out again. The walk to the infirmary seemed to take hours instead of minutes. And as they crossed the yard, he again had the thoughts of dogs in kennels. Then his angry words to Dee returned, echoing in his ears like bitter poison. He hadn’t meant them, not truly, but he’d been so blindsided by all of it—finding out Roland was sick, learning that Deanna could make decisions about his brother when he couldn’t, and seeing Dr. Forbes after all these years.
The simple fact was he hated Deanna’s parents, because no matter how angry he’d been at her for giving in to their pressure, he loved her too much to hate her. So while his hot anger had been directed at her, his cold hate had been reserved for the two people who had taken the most important thing in the world from him, and to see one of them standing over his brother was almost more than he could handle.
In his mind, Teague had turned the Forbeses into demons. Rationally, he knew they were more likely people who’d never known anything other than their limited life in Sewickley Heights and were frightened for their daughter’s future. Nothing rational had gone through his mind two days ago. A few rational things were slipping through now, but it was still hard as hell.
The guard stopped at the door to a large exam room and Teague steeled himself for what might be behind it.
“You’re allowed as long as you want with him. The guard inside will be there at all times if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Teague said.
The guard swung the door open, handing over a piece of paper to the other guard who stood inside. Then they motioned Teague through and he walked in, eyes pinned to the body on the bed in front of him.
Roland was sitting up a bit, the regulation hospital bed inclined at the head. He had the requisite tubes and wires connected to him, and he looked frail in a way that seemed impossible for a man who was over six feet and two hundred pounds. There was a smattering of gray in his hair, and even from the doorway, Teague could see that he had tattoos on his arms that hadn’t been there before. Prison tats. Teague’s stomach turned.
But the most shocking thing of all was to see Deanna’s father sitting in a chair beside the bed, laughing as Roland smiled at him and pointed out something in the magazine the doctor held on his lap.
Teague’s eyes stung as he took in the image, and he rested his hand on the frame of the doorway, breathing deeply once before taking another step into the room, then another.
Then he was standing over the bed, and he managed to choke out a single word. “Roland.”
Roland’s head whipped from Dr. Forbes to Teague, and Teague felt everything inside him burst with so much emotion, he wasn’t sure he could contain it. At that moment, there was nothing else in the room. There were no monitors, no doctors, no guards. There was only him and Roland—DNA, history, guilt, apologies, remorse, forgiveness, all of it played out as they stared at each other, caught in an emotional symphony that swelled between them, crashing against their hearts, spilling over in their eyes, seeping into their souls.
“Teague,” Roland croaked, his breath coming in short, wheezing puffs.
“I’m sorry,” Teague whispered, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry.”
“Come here, little brother,” Roland answered nearly as quietly, holding out his arms. Teague fell into them, and Roland wrapped him in an embrace that soothed Teague’s soul in a way that nothing ever had or ever could. And for the first time in seventeen years, that terrible wound that festered under the ugly scab didn’t ache.
After a few minutes of quiet tears, they pulled away from one another, adding a few backslaps into the mix to show that neither of them had gone completely soft.
Roland coughed roughly a few times, reminding Teague that his brother wasn’t out of the woods yet, and now he needed to make sure that Roland got healthy again as quickly as possible.
Teague sat in a chair that had mysteriously appeared behind him. He held on to Roland’s hand, reluctant to let go of what he’d only just regained.
“I’m sorry you’ve been sick, but we’re going to get you well now,” he said, giving Roland a watery smile.
“Don’t worry ’bout me,” Roland said roughly. “I want to know why you went and told everyone. They might not put you on the court now.” He shook his head.
Teague shook his head. “It was time. It was past time. And I’d rather have you
than the court. I’m just so sorry it took me all these years to realize it.”
“Don’t you apologize for any of it,” Roland said fiercely. “Mama and me wanted this for you. I was happy to give up anything I needed to for you to be the man I knew you could be. I’m so damn proud of you. My little brother, a rich lawyer in Washington, DC. Maybe even a Supreme Court justice.”
Teague shook his head, smiling softly. “I figured Mom just told you how it was going to be.”
“Naw, we talked about it a lot. When I first got arrested out here, we talked on the phone and wrote some letters. We agreed on all of it. She didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to.”
Guilt stabbed through Teague. “It wasn’t fair to you. You didn’t deserve any of this, and you shouldn’t have had to give up so much.”
Roland squeezed Teague’s hand, looking tired now. “It was the greatest joy of my life to know you are who you are. I’d do it all again in a moment.”
Teague shook his head, stunned at the unconditional love his brother exuded. Prison might make most men harder, more bitter versions of themselves, but it appeared to have made Roland a saint of some sort.
They chatted for a few more minutes until Roland began looking increasingly exhausted.
“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Teague said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
“You promise?” Roland asked, his eyelids already at half-mast.
“Yeah, man, I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s good,” Roland answered, closing his eyes. “I want to spend more time with my little brother.”
Teague held Roland’s hand until he fell asleep. Then he gently extracted himself and stood to look at the other side of the room.
Sitting in a corner with a chair pulled up to a rolling table that he was using as a desk sat Dr. Forbes. Teague took a deep breath, exhaling to a count of ten, reminding himself that he had to keep his cool or he’d be tossed out.
He walked to where the doctor sat. “Dr. Forbes?”
Dr. Forbes looked up, smiled, and stood, putting out his hand. Teague stared at it, unsure what he was supposed to do in a situation like this.
When it appeared that Teague wasn’t going to shake his hand, the doctor grimaced slightly and cleared his throat.
“Teague, it’s nice to see you again.”
“We both know that’s not true, but I guess I need to thank you for saving my brother.”
Dr. Forbes looked sad. “I deserve your disdain, Teague. And more. But I’d very much like to talk to you for a few minutes—about Roland and about Deanna. Can we do that?”
Teague shrugged, and Dr. Forbes indicated a nearby chair. Teague pulled it a few feet closer, and both men sat.
Dr. Forbes leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands hanging between his legs.
“Let’s talk about Roland first.”
Teague nodded in agreement. God knew it was the easier choice.
“He has a very serious form of bacterial pneumonia. It’s resistant to most antibiotics, although the combination I have him on now seems to be kicking in. It was touch and go, though, and he’s not out of the woods yet.”
“What caused it?” Teague asked, thinking through legal options to get Roland moved closer to DC—medical necessity being one of them.
Dr. Forbes shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry, Teague, but it appears that Roland has a mass in his left lung.”
Teague’s mind struggled to process what Dr. Forbes was saying even as his chest contracted in a painful clench. Because while his brain couldn’t accept it, his heart knew the truth.
“What? No, he’s only forty-one, and he doesn’t smoke—”
“Actually, ten to fifteen percent of lung cancers are in nonsmokers,” Dr. Forbes said, shaking his head sadly. “We can’t be sure why or what causes it, but Roland isn’t alone in this.”
Teague’s entire body became numb. He simply couldn’t take more today, and yet he knew that this was far from done.
“And did the prison know about this?”
“No, I spotted it when I looked over his X-rays. The doctor here is a fine generalist, but he’s not trained in pulmonology or oncology. It’s not his fault he didn’t see it. They saw pneumonia. It was a reasonable diagnosis.”
“So what now?” Teague asked, going into problem-solving mode, because that was who he was. “Chemo? Radiation of some sort? Can you operate to remove the mass?”
Dr. Forbes looked tense. “As I said, I’m treating the pneumonia, and that’s helping. There are some options for the cancer, but you should talk to Roland about what he wants to do in that regard.”
Teague’s gut told him something wasn’t right here, but he was exhausted, and he wasn’t going anywhere for a while, so he simply nodded in agreement. Then he watched the older man, noticing that he had Deanna’s eyes and sometimes tilted his head the same way she did when she was waiting to see what Teague would say about something.
“Why’d you do it?” he asked. “Fly out here to care for the brother of a man you hate?” Teague huffed a wry chuckle. “Hell, care for a man you can’t possibly respect.”
“I came because I owed it to my daughter and to the man she loves.”
Teague raised an eyebrow, his chest contracting.
“What I did to you all those years ago? I can’t undo that. Can’t go back and conquer my fear of the unknown, tell my younger self that I was about to ruin one of the most beautiful relationships in my life—the one I had with my only daughter. What I can do is go forward. And I can vow to you that from this moment forward, if you and Dee find it in your hearts to allow me back in, I’ll never let you down again.”
Teague pursed his lips, thinking how strange it was that this man had once nearly been his father-in-law. “I’m not sure where Dee and I are at this point. Some things were said—” He paused to clear his throat, a thread of regret wiggling through him. “But even if we do continue seeing each other, how am I supposed to believe that you’ve changed?”
“Ask Deanna that. She has all the information I can give you,” he said simply.
Teague nodded, and then they were interrupted by Roland calling Teague’s name. “I’m right here,” he called over his shoulder.
“Since you’re here, I’m going to grab some food in the warden’s dining room. They’ve been letting me eat there,” Dr. Forbes said. “They have my cell phone if you need anything while I’m gone. I’ll be back in an hour.”
He stood and moved toward the door, but Teague stood and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Dr. Forbes turned.
“Thank you. For taking care of my brother,” Teague said. “If he’d died before I had a chance to see him again I’m not sure what I would have done.”
Then he put out his hand, and Dr. Forbes shook it.
“I’m glad I could help. Make sure you really listen to him when you talk. He’s a strong man, but he’s been here a very long time.”
Teague and Roland spent the day talking in between Roland’s naps. They reminisced, they caught up, they joked, and cried, and even called their mother, which Teague feared might put the poor woman in her grave, she cried so hard. And they took pictures. Selfies with Teague’s phone, and on the spur of the moment, he sent it not only to their mother
but to Deanna as well. He didn’t hear back from her. Through it all, Dr. Forbes sat quietly in his corner of the room, coming over occasionally to check on the IVs that were feeding medicine and fluids into Roland.
After Roland’s dinner had been served and taken away with him barely touching it, Teague knew that he should go.
“Hey,” he said, squeezing Roland’s shoulder. “You need to get more rest, so why don’t I go and come back in the morning?”
Roland smiled sadly at him. “I don’t want you to come back, little brother.”
Teague stopped, everything in him freezing solid. “What do you mean?”
Roland placed his hand over Teague’s where it rested on his shoulder. “This has meant the world to me, having you here, getting to talk to you, see what a fine man you became. And to know that you and Ms. Forbes are back together—”
“I’m not sure we are,” Teague blurted out.
“You are,” Roland said. “You love each other. She’s loved you all these years. She found me just so she could feel closer to you, and I didn’t mind a bit because it made me feel closer to you too. But you found each other twice in one life, you don’t turn that down, brother. You hold that close, and you do everything to make sure it grows big and strong and healthy.”
“What does any of this have to do with me coming back tomorrow?” Teague asked impatiently. “We need to talk about the treatment options for your cancer, and how I can schedule to be here when you have those. I want to make sure that you’re given the very best care. If you’re willing to make me your attorney of record—”
SCOTUS: A Powerplay Novel Page 18
