Bang Switch
Page 19
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 them to do.
I’d returned to work three days ago, and I already 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 towards. “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 that 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 that 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 serving quite a bit of time, they’re just wait
ing 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 dog fighting 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 seeing 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 in 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 inside 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,” she 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 waggled 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 in 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.”
His words sounded so damn defeated that it hurt my heart.
“I have bad dreams. I relive every-fucking-thing. Literally, anything bad that’s ever happened to me, I relive it. The time I broke my arm and my mom was at work, I walked to her job, five freakin’ miles, with my arm at a weird angle. Every agonizing step I relieve in my dreams.” He shook his head. “Then there’s the time I watched a good friend get his head blown off by a fuckin’ sniper in Afghanistan. Now I get to add your fucking abduction, waking up to you duct taped and tied down to a fucking filthy ass chair. Seeing your eyes stray to the window to witness your dog about to die.” He took a deep breath, and I shivered at the look of desolation covering his face.
“The worst dream, though, is reality. I wake up every morning with the taste of you on my lips, but you’re fucking gone. The smell of you on my sheets has faded. I can’t remember what it’s like to hear you laugh. Or the way you make me feel.” He shook his head and ran his hair underneath the water again. “I hate the way I can’t fucking breathe without you here.”
I lost the battle to stay away from him.
I went to him, wrapping my arms around his chest and squeezing tightly.
“I’m here now, Downy,” I said softly.
I felt his chest expand with a huge breath, and then he let it out slowly.
“This has been a pretty shitty three weeks,” he admitted.
There was one more thing to ask him before I said what I had to say next. I needed to know.
“Did you know what the implant in my arm was?” I asked, holding my arm up until he could see the incision in my arm where I’d had the GPS chip removed.
He turned around, eyeing my arm like it was a serpent ready to strike.
He looked at me curiously. “Your birth control? I thought you said that was good for two more years.”
I visibly wilted with his words. Something inside of me was set free, and I finally allowed myself to feel happy about my circumstance for the first time in three whole weeks.
I shook my head. “Not birth control.”
His eyebrows thinned when they rose nearly all the way to his hairline. “What?”
“When I was nineteen, I’d asked my mom to make me an appointment with my girl doctor for some birth control. I was interested in having sex for the first…” I saw his face contort into something that closely resembled rage, so I skipped forward to what I had to tell him. “My mom made me an appointment, and then took me to the ap
pointment where the doctor I’d had her call implanted what I thought was birth control… it wasn’t.”
He looked at me, and I mean really looked at me, when he asked, “Well then, what the fuck was it?”
I could tell he was getting mad. Really mad.
That made me happy that he would be offended on my behalf.
“A GPS,” I said softly.
“What the fuck? Who would do that?” He asked irately.
I sighed. “He had a good enough reason, I guess.”
He shook his head at what my mother had told me just that morning when I’d called her to ask her the very same question he’d just asked.
“Supposedly, when he was in his twenties, he got into some very bad stuff with the club, but he turned it around. In the process, he offended some of the members, and they left with a promise that they would retaliate in kind one day.” I shook my head, shivering now from getting splashed with the now cold water.
He flipped the knobs off and stepped out, grabbing a towel and offering it to me before he got his own.
He still hadn’t touched me, and that stung, but I’d give him the time he needed.
“So he decided to put his nineteen year old daughter at risk for getting pregnant, just so he could have peace of mind? Seems fucked up to me,” he admitted.
I shook my head. “Apparently, he found some evidence that the men that left had started terrorizing the dog that attacked me, Bobo, while nobody was looking in hopes that he’d attack one of the members. When the dog attacked me, they hightailed it out of town, but daddy found them after asking some questions around the area. He got a lot of conflicting evidence, but most of it was about a couple of men terrorizing the dog. They’d thought the men had been part of the club, so they didn’t think to say anything.”
He shook his head. “That doesn’t fuckin’ matter. Jesus.”