by A. m Madden
Nick then looked at Garrett and Reed. “We’ll get her out of there.” His voice was firm with conviction, yet I wasn’t as confident as he was. But I knew my brother-in-law was most in his element when in these situations. If anyone could hold to that promise, it was Nick Farley.
Two SWAT officers secured the lobby and stairwell while two others flew up the stairs with Nick, George, the other agents, and me following right behind.
When we reached Maygen’s apartment, Nick listened through the door and I worked to control the urge to bust through it myself.
“George, call her apartment,” Nick said quietly. Through the wood door, we heard her land line ringing, then a muffled manic laugh. “She’s delusional.”
When the phone rang for the eighth time, Nick knocked on the door.
“Gloria Michaels, FBI. Open up.”
“Fuck off. Where’s Garrett? This was supposed to be our reunion.”
“He’s downstairs. He wants to see you. How about you walk out here so you can get back together?”
“You think I’m an idiot? I called for him so he can watch his princess die. But whatever, him seeing it is not as important as killing her.”
“Gloria, if you kill Maygen you won’t be able to get Garrett back. You’ll be in jail.”
“Not forever. Once she’s out of his life he’ll realize how much he needs and misses me. She ruined everything. My son was supposed to be the golden child, his firstborn. Not her.”
“Your son, Reed? Do you want to talk to your son?”
“Oh yes. I have a lot to say to him, but first things first.”
Nick motioned for SWAT to get into position. “On three,” Nick said, barely above a whisper. He raised his hand, counting down from three, to two, and then at one the SWAT officer used a battering ram to bust open the door. In the most perfectly choreographed of maneuvers, the officers and agents fanned into position right inside the apartment door.
Nick and George blocked my entrance. From the doorway I saw Maygen taped to a chair, her head lolling back and forth and one side of her face covered in blood. On the floor at her feet were a knife and a syringe. Arnold lay dead on the ground a few feet away. A nasty-looking woman next to Maygen pointed a gun at the door.
Like a caged animal, I wanted to lunge and rip her heart out, then fucking tear her limbs from her body one by one. With eight guns pointing at her, including SWAT across the street, and only one pointing at us, the odds were in our favor. But she was inches away from the love of my life, and we couldn’t leave anything to chance.
“Put the gun down, Gloria,” Nick said with authority. In my head I demanded, Kill her!
“No.” Gloria turned the gun toward Maygen, who looked unconscious, her head slumped forward. She was inches from Maygen and could fire a shot at close range without warning. I could feel the blood pumping through my veins and heart. The pounding caused by fear exploded beneath my chest wall, forcing one foot to move forward in a half step. George grabbed my arm just as Nick fired a shot, hitting Gloria in the arm.
The gun tumbled from her hand, relief instantly engulfing me. She fell to her knees beside Maygen, her eyes wide and wild, her arm shaking from the hit. Even through her pain, the bitch picked up the gun with her other hand and once again aimed it at Maygen. Relief turned to panic as she refused to give up on what she came to do.
Before the words Kill her could pass through my lips, the SWAT team released a few rounds into her body, wasting no time. Through it all Maygen hadn’t moved.
“Nick!” I pleaded. I needed to get to her.
He held me in place with a hand on my arm. SWAT rushed toward them, one confirming Gloria was dead, and the other cutting Maygen loose from her confines. He carried her to the couch and placed her on her back.
The moment Nick raised his hand I flew over, lifted her, and cradled her in my arms. The vision that plagued me since receiving her phone call had become reality. Her limp, lifeless body molded to mine from the crushing hold I had on her.
A flurry of activity around us did little to deter my focus on her face. Nick and George stepped closer. George held out an evidence bag holding the syringe. “I don’t know what she shot her up with.”
“EMS is on their way,” Nick said.
“Thank you.” It was all I could manage to say, and it wasn’t nearly enough. Nothing I could say would be enough to convey what I was feeling while holding my love.
—
After Gloria was killed, I held Maygen in my arms while agents came and went. As we waited for the ambulance I suffered a severe PTSD attack. No one near even knew it; the entire thing occurred in the most bizarre way. Besides the normal shaking, sweats, and nervous energy that usually consumed me, I had the insane need to pray to God, begging him to keep her safe from that day forward. Like a guru’s melodic mantra, over and over the words repeated in my mind on an endless loop.
The paramedics ripped her from my arms, causing a growl to rupture from deep within me. Unapologetically, they moved her to the rug and began checking her vitals. I moved to kneel beside her, holding her limp hand in mine.
They asked Nick routine questions; some they directed to me, for which I had few answers.
“Do you know what she was given?”
“We assume heroin,” Nick responded for me.
One pulled out a syringe from his medical bag and injected her with something.
“What is that?” I asked, panicked.
“Narcan. If she was given opioids, it will halt any respiratory depression that she may experience.”
I had no idea what the fuck he’d just said.
In a blur I watched as they secured her to a gurney and wheeled her out of the apartment and into the elevator. I chased behind like a lost child.
Reed was stuck answering questions. All the while he wouldn’t look at the woman who birthed him, wanting nothing to do with her as she was wheeled out in a body bag. Garrett asked to ride in the ambulance. I wasn’t sure if it was pity or exhaustion that had him nodding to the EMT when I demanded to go as well. One of us was forced to sit in the front. Again he surprised me by allowing me to stay with Maygen in the back.
After arriving at the hospital, I didn’t leave her side, let go of her hand, or move my eyes from her face. She babbled incoherently during the ambulance ride, but there was no other response since then. Garrett had also been sitting vigil in a chair on the other side of her bed. Besides communicating with the nurses or the doctor, we remained silent. My guess was he was even more lost in thought than I was.
The syringe Gloria used on Maygen was being tested for disease, and we wouldn’t know the results for a few days. Her blood was drawn to determine what she’d been injected with. It came back positive for heroin, as Nick had suspected. They gave another dose of the Narcan through her IV.
When they began working on the gash on her cheek, her father insisted on calling in a plastic surgeon. We were told the priority was the opioids in her system, and there was no time to waste waiting to stitch her up. Based on the depth of the slice made on her cheek, as well as its location, seven stitches were required. My heart ached at having a constant reminder of what she’d been through.
As I sat woodenly in the chair beside her, the adrenaline I felt earlier dissipated, causing mental exhaustion to hit. I had come so close to losing her, and I couldn’t wrap my brain around it. And even now that she was safe and sound I wasn’t confident she’d come out of this okay. Yeah, physically she’d heal, but psychologically so much could happen.
Once she was settled in her hospital bed, her doctor explained that the Narcan saved her life from the heroin by forcing withdrawal. We were to expect Maygen to experience all symptoms such as the shakes, vomiting, sweats, and even possibly seizures. It was going to be torture to watch. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t moving until she woke up.
When the nurse hooked oxygen tubing into Maygen’s nostrils, I panicked. “What’s that for?”
“It’s jus
t precautionary.” She jotted down some notes on a clipboard while staring at the monitor and then left the room.
The shakes resumed, and when I raised a trembling hand to grip the back of my neck I saw Garrett’s eyes on me.
“You love her, don’t you?” His out-of-the-blue question surprised me, stopping the crushing hold I had on my own neck.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. It felt so good to admit that out loud.
“I know. I can see it.” He moved his gaze back to his daughter’s face, which made me think he was done. Without looking back at me he continued. “You know how much she means to me. I’ll never apologize for wanting to protect her as much as I do.”
I now understood completely where he came from. Fuck, if I could keep her in a padded room for the rest of her life I would. I got it now.
He brought his eyes back to mine. “I guess what I’m trying to say is, I am who I am. I do have a lot to make amends for, with her, with Reed….” He paused. “And with you.” My eyes widened just enough, giving him reason to go on. “David, we got off to a rough start. I’d like to start over. Please accept my apology.”
My initial reaction was skepticism. But it couldn’t have been easy for him to admit that. I remained silent, trying to think of one thing to say to this man. We were both caught up with our feelings for this beautiful woman beside us. And my feelings were so new compared to his. He’d loved Maygen her whole life. My brain told me I needed to give the guy a break, if for no other reason but to make Maygen happy.
The discomfort I felt over his honesty and the confusion over how I should proceed with him must have been evident on my face.
He read my mind, adding, “Well, if nothing else, can we try to get along for her?”
Suddenly he stood, stretching his arm and offering his hand across Maygen’s bed.
I hesitated before accepting it. The lines on his forehead smoothed out when a small smile appeared on his lips. The look in his eyes wasn’t judging or condescending in any way. He genuinely wanted to make amends.
While holding his hand in a firm grip I nodded and said, “Yes, I’d like to start over, too. I accept your apology.”
Chapter 36
David
Garrett and I were forced to sit helplessly and watch Maygen go through the stages of withdrawal. Over the span of three hours, she’d had several major episodes that left her drenched in sweat, tremors running throughout her body while she thrashed restlessly in her bed.
She had just calmed when a different doctor sauntered into the room. He introduced himself, but his name went through one ear and out the other. All I could focus on was Maygen, and I continued wiping a cool cloth across her forehead.
“Why is this taking so long?” Garrett asked.
“Withdrawal is different for each user.” He checked her chart and added, “Although the symptoms of withdrawal often mimic the flu—chills, sweats, and fatigue—and can last for several hours, the psychological symptoms can sometimes go on for weeks, even after the drug is no longer present in the body. Heroin is a highly habituating drug, and rumors claiming the addiction is instant are false. Those who become instantly addicted often have used other drugs recreationally, and the heroin high suddenly becomes the best they’ve had. It feels like they will die if they don’t continue their use. Maygen doesn’t fall into this category.”
“So how can we help her?” I asked, my eyes on her face.
“Just what you’ve been doing. Keep her as comfortable as possible. You may want to take turns and give each other breaks. This could get exhausting.”
He scribbled in her chart and checked her vitals. “I’m sure you both have lots of questions. I’ll be back with some literature to help you understand what lies ahead for her. I know how scary it is to watch helplessly, but it is part of the detox process. Although it looks like she’s getting worse, the reality is she’s actually improving because her body is ridding itself of the toxins.”
He paused before walking out, leaving us silently staring at her and processing his words. It was necessary, albeit fucking painful, to witness. I just hoped she wouldn’t remember most of it once she came to. From the outside looking in, coming off heroin had similar symptoms to a full-blown PTSD attack. There was nothing I could do for her, except to let her know that this ride that she was on I also was on…and I wasn’t leaving.
When her next episode hit, what the doctor had said didn’t make it any less heart-wrenching to watch her tiny body trying to fight off the remnants of the drug. I held her through it all, caressing her head as I held her to my chest. Her strength didn’t match mine and after a few minutes she submitted and relaxed while whimpering against me.
“It wasn’t as bad as the last,” Garrett said as she mumbled over and over, “I need it…I need it.”
“Garrett, why don’t you go get something to eat or drink? I’ll stay with her.”
We’d both been sitting vigil for more than four hours straight.
Emotions ran deep in his blue eyes. When he looked at me like that all I could think of was his daughter, and how much she wanted us to move past our issues. Here we were moving past them, and she wasn’t awake to witness it.
“Go ahead. I’ll call you if anything changes,” I said.
Uncertainty passed over his face, but he nodded anyway. “I guess I’d better go make some phone calls. I’m sure George and Reed are pissed that I haven’t kept them updated.”
He walked around her bed, but instead of heading for the door he came to stand beside me. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Thank you, David…for being here. I know it has little to do with me. Regardless, I really appreciate it.”
Embarrassed over his honesty, I shrugged. “There isn’t anywhere else I’d be.”
When I heard the door close behind me I tightened my hold on her. I had so much I wanted to tell her. She knew it all, but the desperate need to reconfirm my feelings consumed me. I became lost in visuals of the last time I made love to her. The memories left me raw, desperate.
“Baby, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need to say it anyway. I’m here for you, and we’ll get through this. I just want you to know that I love you. I love you more than anyone in this world.”
With each hour that passed I was no longer worried that physically she’d be back to her old self. What ate at me was the possibility that what happened with Gloria would change how she felt about us, about me. What if a different Maygen emerged?
One single moment in my life had forever altered who I was.
What if this was her life-altering moment?
What if she was never the same again?
—
“David.”
I stirred, wanting to hear her voice again. In my dream, she was sitting on my lap telling me a story about her job. The smile spread over her face was like looking into the sun. Blinding me, but at the same time filling me with a kind of warmth that I’d never felt before.
When she softly repeated my name, my eyes flew to her face as I realized I wasn’t dreaming. She was awake. Her gaze shifted between her father and me.
“Baby,” I said, my voice rough from lack of sleep. Garrett heard me and woke up with a jolt.
“Sweetheart.”
Still clutching her hand, I impulsively stood to kiss her lips. It was 3 A.M. The dark circles under her eyes, the pallor of her skin left no doubt what her body had just been through. She looked confused, and searched my face for answers.
“What happened? Where is she?” Her anxiety caused the heart monitor to beep furiously. It had happened so many times over those long, torturous hours that her dad and I were no longer fazed by it. One hand tentatively touched the bandaging that covered her cheek. “I remember she cut me.”
My heart clenched at remembering the deep gash that had sliced open one side of her face. “You’re safe, baby. She can’t hurt you anymore.”
“What did she inject me with?”
I swallowed audibly b
efore saying, “Heroin.”
Her eyes became moist with emotion while her bottom lip trembled. Sobs took over, and she buried her face in my chest.
“Hey. Stop. It’s over, okay?”
“She was so crazy. I was scared. When she shot Arnold, I was terrified she would kill me at any moment. I didn’t think I’d survive her.”
“You did survive her. She’ll never hurt you again. Let’s not talk about it now. Okay?”
Her eyes cut to her father. “She told me her brother, Jonah, killed Mom.”
Garrett paled.
I pulled her closer as my heart squeezed tightly in my chest. “We’ll tell George and Nick. They’ll find him.”
“Maygen.” Garrett gently pulled her other hand, which was gripping my shirt, and wrapped both of his around it. “I’m so sorry, my sweet girl.”
“It’s not your fault,” she said through tears.
“Yes, it is. I brought her into our lives. It may have been a long time ago, but I should have realized then how much she really needed help. I tried, but I didn’t try hard enough.”
“When is Arnold’s funeral?”
“His family lives in California.”
I watched her lip tremble. “I’m an awful person. The man lost his life for me, and I didn’t even know that.”
“Shh, baby.” I tightened my arms around her. “When things calm down, you can pay your respects.”
Garrett stood awkwardly, wanting to comfort her as well. “Maygen, please don’t blame yourself for what happened to Arnold.” He hovered beside her bed with a tormented look on his face.
I needed to give them some privacy, at least for a few minutes.
“I’ll be right back.” I kissed Maygen’s head and slipped off her bed. On stiff legs I walked to the waiting room to make a quick phone call to Nick. I had never really thanked him for what he did for me, for her. I’d said the words “thank you,” but it wasn’t enough.
Once again I owed him so much. He’d argue about it but not long ago he had saved my life, and now he had saved my girl’s. I also would tell him what Maygen shared regarding Jonah Michaels.
