by Melissa Tagg
“Do you know anything about Rio?”
She pushed a lock of his hair aside as she shook her head. “I’m sure Dr. Traeger will let us know what’s happening the moment he can.” With both palms on his cheeks, she looked into his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. Not until he knew if his brother was going to live. And even then . . .
It was too much. The very thing he’d never wanted, the life he’d tried so hard to leave behind, had ambushed him here. It’d endangered Raegan, her father. And he hadn’t known that in trying to outrun his own past, he’d apparently left Rio to deal with Lord knows what on his own.
Still. When Raegan leaned forward to kiss his lips, he was too selfish to stop her. He let himself cling to her.
While he still could.
Raegan had started to put the pieces together. Between Officer Jimmy’s questions and then Chief Ross’s and from the few utterances she’d heard from Bear, she could at least figure out the basics.
Raegan huddled into the jacket Dad had draped over her. He sat beside her now, but her focus was on Bear pacing the waiting room like a caged cat.
Rio, it seemed, had reneged on his criminal activities months or maybe even years ago. He’d become an informant for the police—or the FBI?—working undercover in an attempt to bring down someone named Inez. But when his main contact had gone silent and he started receiving threats, Rio went underground.
But Detective Rollins, who was apparently on Inez’s payroll, had tracked him here.
It was as much as she could piece together in the minutes since she’d rushed into the room and thrown herself at Bear. Couldn’t even bring herself to be embarrassed by that. In fact, if she had her way, she’d still be sitting on his lap, clutching him to her, just to convince herself again and again that he was okay.
She could still taste the horror of those seconds when Rollins had turned his gun on Bear. Even through the smog of her panic, a laser-sharp focus had lanced straight through her.
I can’t lose him.
She wasn’t Logan. She couldn’t survive a second devastating loss. She wouldn’t want to survive it.
Murky fear attempted to throttle her all over again.
But he’s okay. He’s right here in front of you.
Had it really only been a couple hours ago that they’d stood together in Beckett’s bedroom? It’d felt like a blow when he’d declined her offer to come to Atlanta with him, but she’d told herself then that she had to acquiesce. Had to trust him when he said he’d come back. That was part of loving someone, wasn’t it? Respecting their wishes even when you didn’t understand the reasoning behind them.
Maybe she understood a little better now.
But everything had changed when Bear came charging across the street, drawing Rollins’ aim. If he thought she was letting him go anywhere without her now—
“Bear McKinley?”
Her attention swung to the now-open door of the private waiting room. Dr. Traeger.
She was on her feet in a millisecond, leaving Dad’s side and crossing the room in a few quick strides to reach Bear. She grabbed his hand, but when his fingers didn’t close around hers, she knotted her arm through his instead.
Dr. Traeger must’ve noticed the same white sheen to Bear’s skin as she did. “Have you seen Dr. Lewis yet?”
“Tell me about Rio. Please.”
Raegan squeezed his arm.
Dr. Traeger nodded, though the concern didn’t leave his eyes. “The bullet hit his aorta. We’ve done our best to patch it but he needs a full repair and he needs it now. We’re not equipped here. We’re getting him ready to life-flight—”
Bear’s muscles stiffened under her palm. “Where?”
“Iowa City. I’ve already spoken to the heart surgeon there.”
“Can I—”
“There’s not room to ride with. I’m very sorry about that.”
“Can I at least see him?”
She could cry at the waver in Bear’s voice, so miniscule she might be the only one to have heard it. But she had heard it and it was all she could do not to draw him into her arms.
Dr. Traeger shook his head slowly. “We truly don’t have a minute to spare. I know that sounds dramatic. But we have to be ready when the helicopter lands.”
Bear’s nod couldn’t mask his distress. She tightened her hold.
Dr. Traeger reached for the door.
But Bear found his voice once more. “Doctor?”
He turned.
“The chances?”
Dr. Traeger let out a breath, as if surrendering to a question he hadn’t wanted to be asked. “It’s bad. But if he can get into surgery within the next couple hours . . .”
Not an answer. But apparently it was as much as Bear was going to get.
As soon as Dr. Traeger left, the room fanned into action. Chief Ross said something about getting back to the station to question Rollins. Jimmy was on his phone with someone from Atlanta, apparently. Dad was asking Bear what he needed, if he should get the kids ready.
Bear raked his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, they need to come with. It might be scary for them, but . . . but it’s their dad.”
She didn’t miss the tears he blinked away.
Chief Ross pulled on his jacket. “We’ll get you a police escort, okay? It’ll get you there faster and, well, considering everything, I think it’s for the best.”
Did he still think there was some kind of danger out there? That Inez might send another man? Or maybe he just had that many more questions for Bear.
She glanced up at his face. “Let’s get you home first, Bear. We’ll change fast and—”
“No.”
She still held his arm. “I know you want to hurry, but the kids shouldn’t see you in a blood-stained shirt.” Blunt, perhaps, but he was in a daze.
Or . . . or he wasn’t. Because his eyes were startlingly clear as he pulled away and faced her. “You can’t come, Rae.”
Dad cleared his throat behind her. Chief Ross nodded in front of her. Soft footsteps padded from the room.
“Bear—”
He shook his head. “I mean it.”
“I’m not letting you go alone. If you’re worried about me—”
“I am. But I’ll worry less if you’re here.” The tenor of his voice had hardened and he turned away, facing the glass windows that stared into the hospital corridor.
“Bear, please. You shouldn’t have to deal with this by yourself.”
He spun from the windows to face her once more. “I can’t handle having you caught in the middle of this anymore than you already have been. Okay? I’ve got a brother who might be dying. I can’t be here for both of you at the same time. Can you understand that?”
“I can. I do.” She willed her voice to stay steady despite the tossing storm inside and stepped toward him. “But who’s going to look out for you? At some point, you have to learn to let other people help you.”
She tried to touch his arm, but he backed away.
“Let other people help me? Rae, I’ve spent the better part of the past month letting other people help me and all it did was bring danger right to your doorstep. All while Rio was being hunted down by real-life bad guys.” He panted the words ahead of an exhale as worn as his appearance.
His dark hurt was so palpable it thrummed in the air between them, fading out the bright overhead lights, a woman’s voice over the hospital’s PA system, air conditioning rattling through a nearby vent. Guilt spiked his pain—she could see it in every line in his face.
Comforting words ached to break free, but he didn’t want them, did he? Wouldn’t hear them if she tried.
“You need to stay. And I need to go.”
It was the second time tonight he’d said those words. But this time, there was no kiss or embrace to punctuate them.
Worse, no promise to return.
18
Bear’s gaze bore into the graveston
e, Atlanta’s heat swathing him in steamy, opaque air. So thick that if there were any chance of fleeing it, it’d be like stepping out of a heavy, damp bathrobe.
But there was no escaping it. Not now.
A thin figure in a navy blue uniform perched against a tree in the far corner of the cemetery. Police protection. It’d become his new normal in the week since the shooting. Did the officer wonder how much longer Bear would linger here?
Bear wondered himself. There was no peace to be had tracing with his eyes the letters etched in stone. The numbers underneath. Perspiration beaded on his forehead where the bruises were only beginning to fade.
“I thought I might find you here.”
Bear almost jumped. It couldn’t be—“John?”
The older man had stopped just feet behind Bear, skin even more sun-blotched than the last time Bear had seen him in Brazil, gray eyes swimming with compassion. “You didn’t think we’d leave you to deal with this alone, did you?”
“We?”
“Elizabeth’s in the car. She wasn’t quite . . . ready.” John’s focus settled on the stone behind Bear. If the words there unraveled Bear’s emotion, what must it do to John?
Annie Beth Lane
Beloved dreamer, daughter, friend
“We met your sister-in-law,” John offered. “She wasn’t sure where you’d gone. But when she said you were on foot and when we realized how close to the cemetery the apartment was . . .” John’s voice trailed off as he faced the grave.
Yes, the apartment. They’d been crammed into it for a week now. Rosa had found it during the first week he’d been in Iowa.
Before she’d solved the mystery of her husband’s whereabouts, realized it was her own father endangering her family. She’d gone underground for the same reason as Rio—worry over her children. Rio had never been in jail, not recently. He’d concocted that lie himself, hoping to keep Rosa from looking for him, to keep her safe. But she’d put the pieces together quicker than Bear.
It was all still such a mess. But at least Inez had finally been arrested. Rollins was still behind bars, of course. And the FBI contact, the one Rio had been working with, had been found. That is, his body had been located.
But enough information had come out to clear up any lingering questions about Rio’s part in it all. Rio had gone to law enforcement of his own accord more than a year ago, offering himself up as an informant. They’d known they couldn’t just arrest Inez for a routine drug deal, throw shallow charges at him. All Inez would’ve had to do was whip out a fancy lawyer and not even Rio on the stand would’ve made a difference.
Instead, they’d set out to stop the whole operation, cut Inez down at the knees. And it had started with Rio making nice with Inez, working his way into the man’s inner circle, and figuring out who he had on the inside with the Atlanta P.D.
Rollins.
But six months into the undertaking, Inez had grown suspicious. The threats started. Rio’s contact went silent.
“I can’t believe you came all this way.”
“Then you sorely underestimate our love for you, son.”
Son. A sob caught in his throat. John clamped his hand around Bear’s shoulder as he had so many times before, having to reach up to do so.
“How is he?”
“Alive. But weak. He’s still not awake much.” Rio had been transported from Iowa City to Atlanta just two days ago. Partially for health insurance reasons—such a mundane concern in a whirlwind of disorder.
But also because Georgia CPS had only allowed the briefest of extensions on that court order demanding Bear return the kids to its jurisdiction. Even with both parents now accounted for, it was still an open case. But Bear and Rosa had met with Marilyn Beach on Thursday. Things seemed to be smoothing over in that one area, at least.
And Jamie and Erin, after all they’d been through, were holding up. They’d been overjoyed to see Rosa, had been able to talk to Rio a couple times this week. They talked about Iowa constantly, and twice, Bear had let Jamie borrow his phone to call that friend of his back in Maple Valley—Elise. The young girl was due for a surgery of her own soon, wasn’t she? Raegan would be nervous about it. She loved that little girl.
Raegan. Every thought eventually led back to her. And every time, his heart twisted.
Same way it twisted each day when, inevitably, one of the kids asked if he was staying.
John’s hand was still warm on his shoulder. “From what you wrote—and what Rosa said at the house—it’s a miracle your brother survived.”
Yes. The surgeon in Iowa City had said so. The ICU doctor in Atlanta agreed. “He’s got a long road to recovery, though.” But just this morning when Bear had gone by the hospital to see him, Rio had been optimistic. Said he had the perfect incentive for recuperation.
“I want to be in perfect health by the time Luis Inez’s trial starts. Don’t want to pass out on the witness stand or anything.”
“Rio—”
“I know it could be a year away. Might take them months just to settle on the charges, given his history. But no matter. That gives me plenty of time to get in shape. Wanna look good in case my picture ends up in the paper, too—the man who helped bring down notorious drug lord Luis Inez.”
The security officer leaning in the doorway had snorted.
It was the most he’d heard his brother say since the shooting, the surgery. Bear had walked out of the hospital wearing his first full-fledged smile in days.
But he couldn’t blink fast enough to stop his welling tears now. Rio had been given the miracle of another chance. But Annie . . .
The sorrow crashed in all over again. The shame. “It’s my fault, John. Your daughter—”
“Bear, no.”
He swiped the back of his hand over his eyes, sweat and tears mingling.
“I don’t know how many more ways to tell you this, son. You can’t keep living with this shame.”
“I asked her to check in on Rio and Rosa. If not for me—”
“She’s gone, Bear. I miss her everyday, but my Annie is gone from this earth and that’s not going to change.” His voice broke, but he pushed on. “You can blame yourself ’til kingdom come, replay every choice you’ve ever made, but it’s not going to change anything other than to ruin your own life.”
Maybe his life deserved to be ruined. He hadn’t deserved Annie back then, nor John and Elizabeth’s acceptance. He certainly didn’t deserve Raegan or the life he’d begun to picture for himself these past weeks in Maple Valley.
He didn’t even deserve his brother’s love. He’d abandoned Rio as a teenager and then again as an adult. Like a hypocrite, he’d spent the past ten years resenting him—as if Rio’s faults were so much more unforgivable than his own.
“So you’re the only one who can do the right thing? The only one who can make a sacrifice?” Rio’s words under the bridge came pummeling in. “Did you ever stop to think that maybe what I’m doing, I’m doing for Jamie and Erin? And Rosa. And you.”
He’d given up on his brother. He’d walked away.
While Rio had done the thing Bear couldn’t. He’d stayed. He’d put himself in danger to fight for a better life for his family.
“You’ve talked so many times, Bear, about the choice you made. And I know it eats at you.” John came to stand in front of him, blocking Annie’s grave. “But at some point, you have to make another choice—stay in this prison of unworthiness you’ve let erect itself in your soul or accept the grace that changes everything. It’s your choice. You either believe God can redeem your past and your regrets and your pain . . . or you don’t.”
“What does that even mean?”
“I’ll tell you what it doesn’t mean. It doesn’t mean all the hurt just instantly vanishes. But it does mean you stop carrying a load that was never yours to carry in the first place or holding yourself to a promise nobody ever asked you to make. It means instead of the gray walls of your guilt, you start focusing on the crack in the d
oor filled with light. You move toward it—baby steps or otherwise. You get intentional about discovering the good God can bring from the bad.”
Blessed cloud cover veiled the sun and ushered in a breeze. Bear gave up stopping his trail of tears. “But, John, I . . . I don’t deserve . . .”
“None of us does, son. That’s the point. But you can’t cling to God’s grace and your shame at the same time.” John closed the gap between them, a father’s love in his embrace. “Choose grace, Bear. For once. Choose grace.”
The weight in his spirit crumbled as he let himself cry.
Raegan hadn’t exactly meant to bring the swirl of conversation dancing over Dad’s dining room table to such a sudden, skidding stop. But that was exactly what her abrupt announcement had done.
The tantalizing aromas from enough breakfast foods to feed a small army wafted from every corner of the table—a classic Walker tradition, made all the more meaningful today due to the reason they’d gathered. Everyone was here. Kate and Colton. Logan and Amelia and little Charlie, back from Chicago again. Beckett had brought Kit—an honorary and most likely soon-to-be-official member of the family. Dad was here, of course, and Seth and Ava.
A plate of Beckett’s blueberry pancakes sat right next to a platter of Kate’s French toast. They’d spent half the morning, as always, arguing about whose sugary, syrupy treat was best. Logan had only just left his position at the stove after an hour of taking individual omelet orders.
Normally Raegan would’ve prepared a fancy fruit arrangement of some sort—a colorful fruit salad or tropical fruit kebabs, perhaps. Once she’d even carved half the rind of a watermelon to look like a basket and shaped all the pieces of melon inside like little flowers.
Instead, today, she’d washed a bag of grapes and called her offering good. It was all she’d had in her. “Sorry, guys. Any and all creativity I possess these days has gone into the mural.”
A convenient excuse and at least partially accurate. She’d spent every spare minute of the past week at the mural—first scrubbing and scraping away the textured blobs of paint from the vandalism. Rollins’s doing. Because apparently he’d thought it would prompt Rio out of hiding. Or he’d just wanted to antagonize Bear.
