“Did he see him?” Jake asked, sparing me a quick glance.
“No, he shot him in the back,” I replied, disgusted by the knowledge.
“Son of a BITCH!” Jake snarled, the first break in his control since I told him what happened to Connor.
We were racing down River Road now, a trip that normally took twenty minutes from my house was done in under five with Jake’s driving. We saw the flashing lights clustered ahead of us on the road. There must have been officers in the area when Jake called 911. We pulled in, seeing an ambulance had arrived already. I was relieved, because I didn’t know how badly Connor was shot.
Officers blocked our rush into the building, and Jake snapped at them before calming down. He explained that the man shot was his partner, and they were doing an undercover sting. That was how he was able to call it in so quickly. He told them they were on the phone when he heard the shot. I was impressed with his ability to come up with a cover story in such a short amount of time, while under extreme stress. The officers seemed to believe him, as seconds later the EMTs were running toward the ambulance with Connor on the stretcher. They had called a medevac helicopter in to pick him up. We couldn't get close, so we stepped back and watched them work. I heard the chopper blades seconds later. Each thump seemed to echo my single thought, ‘Faster, faster.’
I knew it was bad, as I watched the EMTs fight to keep him alive, and I prayed they succeeded. Jake was tense next to me, keeping an ironclad control over his emotions.
I had learned through our Q&A sessions they had met in college, both criminal justice majors. Connor was a couple years older than Jake and had joined the force straight out of college. Jake followed him, once he graduated, and they were made partners.
I blocked the thought that this could be the end of their partnership. The knowledge that we had to stop whoever was behind this was driven home by the frantic actions of the EMTs, as they worked to keep Connor alive.
I saw them bring a body bag out of the warehouse. I nudged Jake to get his attention, and he looked down at me, irritated. I pointed to the body bag. Apparently, Connor wasn’t the only one who had been shot tonight.
“Who’s in the bag?” he whispered tensely, leaning down to me. His eyes glittered dangerously, their color deepened by his anger. He kept himself closed off from me, holding himself apart, as he asked for details.
“His contact. The one that knew the dirty cop,” I replied, the answer coming to me easily. “He went by Larry.”
“Fuck, our guy shot both of them?”
“No,” I replied tersely, seeing the man that shot Connor and Samuel, but knowing he didn’t shoot Larry the Snitch.
My answer was lost, as they loaded Connor into the helicopter, and we watched it take off. Jake grabbed my arm, pulling me to the car. An officer shouted at us to wait, but we didn’t. Jake’s only concern was Connor and getting to the hospital.
Chapter Twelve
The next few hours were tense. After we arrived, Jake made the call to Connor’s family from the hospital waiting room. It broke protocol, but he couldn’t wait for his captain to arrive and make the call. He knew Connor’s family almost as well as his own, and it devastated him to have to call Connor’s mom.
Jake told me to stay in the corner of the waiting room. He didn’t want anyone to know why I was there and start asking questions we couldn’t answer. I did it, knowing he was attempting to protect me. The fewer people that knew about me the better.
Their captain showed up about an hour later, stopping to offer encouragement to Connor’s family. He and Jake had a tense conversation, before the captain left again. Apparently, he had shit to straighten out. Connor had no reason to be where he was, and one of their informants was killed. Both men had been shot in the back. It was highly suspicious, and Jake was tight-lipped, causing his captain further aggravation. But Jake wasn’t willing to explain our situation, especially not while Connor was fighting for his life.
They had taken Connor into surgery immediately upon arrival. It would be a long night waiting for news. I managed to call my mom and tell her I was sleeping over at Carly’s house. She was surprised, but not suspicious. I had never given her reason to be, and it made my lies easier to accept.
I felt Jake sit down next to me.
“How are you?” I hoped my question would trigger information. I was worried about him. He had withdrawn from me, as soon as he had found out Connor was injured. I suspected he felt guilty and thought the same thing could happen to me. He shook his head, not answering my question, an indecipherable expression on his face.
I waited patiently, knowing he would talk when he was ready. Finally, he asked me, “When I asked you if Samuel Phillips was dead, was that the worst question you’ve ever been asked?” I sat back, surprised. This was not what I expected, but it had obviously bothered him for a while.
I shook my head no, sifting through my thoughts so I could explain when he continued.
“You don’t have to lie to me. I didn’t understand how a question could affect you. I didn’t know you’d see him,” he muttered, the thought obviously weighing on him.
“It’s not the worst question I’ve been asked,” I told him slowly, trying to decide if I wanted to reveal my own painful memories. He looked at me, disbelief written on his face, and I knew I would need to explain before he could believe me.
“It was my grandmother actually,” I said, seeing his surprise. “She asked my mom and me, ‘What are y’all doing tomorrow?’” I nodded, familiar tears prickling behind my eyes. “I saw us sitting in a waiting room at the hospital.” I paused to look around, “Kind of like right now. One of my rare ‘seeing the future’ moments.” Jake’s face changed to one of sympathy. “I didn’t know why, who it would be. I asked so many questions after that. Pretty sure they thought I was nuts. But it didn’t matter. She had a massive heart attack that night. We waited in that room for hours, but they couldn’t save her.” I paused, almost whispering the next part, the thought that had haunted me for years. “Maybe I didn’t ask the right questions.”
Jake took my hand, “There was no right question.”
I smiled faintly. I had told myself that dozens of time and still didn’t believe it. “I’m serious. You can’t blame yourself for what you didn’t know. She wouldn’t want that. You tried.” He wrapped his arm around me, and I couldn’t help but see the similarities in our situations. I could only pray this one turned out differently.
“Seeing Samuel dead was horrifying, but it was my inability to save my grandmother that’s haunted me,” I whispered to him. “Never knowing if I could have made the difference. I loved her.”
He tightened his arm around me, “You can’t blame yourself. You tried. You were there.” His words were quiet, as he made an effort to comfort me for something that had happened years before.
I poked him in the side, startling him enough to look at me. “Same here,” I said, capturing his gaze to make sure he understood. “You’re here and you tried. Connor knew the risks. We all do.”
“But did he? Maybe if we’d shown him a picture of the guy he was looking for, it would have been different,” he said guiltily. I shook my head.
“He was shot in the back. That was intentional. He never saw the guy. We gave Connor as much as we could. He’s here because you got him help in time,” I told him vehemently.
“I should have been there with him,” Jake shouted in a low voice, looking around the waiting room. His eyes rested on Connor’s parents. They were sitting as close to the OR doors as possible, waiting for any news. I could see where Connor got his blonde coloring. He was the spitting image of his father.
“And you would be dead,” I whispered brokenly, tears forming, despite my attempts to stop them. He looked at me, surprised by my words and my tears. “It’s true. You would have both died there. I couldn’t bear that.”
He brushed the tears from my cheek. “It was bad enough seeing Connor hurt. Not knowing if he’ll liv
e. But the thought that it could be you? That guts me.” He couldn’t hide the pain in his voice as he told me this. I nodded against his chest, both of us taking comfort from one another.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed when I heard him say, “I have to ask.” He looked over at me, his eyes reddened and pleading. “I have to. You understand?” I nodded, already suspecting what he wanted to ask me.
“Is he going to live? Will he be okay?” I desperately wanted to tell him yes. I wanted the answer to be clear, but it wasn’t. Tears spilled down my cheeks as I shrugged helplessly. “I can’t tell you.” I jumped as Jake slammed his fist against the wall, shouting, “Fuck!”
I pulled my knees up and rested my head on them. He looked over at me, his expression apologetic. He sat back down and ran his hand over my hair. “I’m not mad at you.” I nodded, feeling the rough denim of my jeans against my cheek. I knew he wasn’t. He was mad because there was no answer.
“Why?” I couldn’t decide if he was asking God why Connor got shot or if he was asking me why I didn’t know the answer. I went with the one I had the best guess for.
“He hasn’t decided,” I answered, knowing it was true. Jake looked at me, focused on what I was saying. “I can’t tell you the answer, because Connor hasn’t decided if he’s living or dying. People have freedom of choice.” I shrugged, aware of how unsatisfactory my explanation was. “The doctors are working, but there are so many threads in play at the moment, and Connor needs to choose to live. It’s not always simple, but that’s why I can’t see it. A decision hasn’t been made yet. The future hasn’t been decided.” Jake nodded his head, but remained silent. He sat with his legs spread, hands dangling between them. I ran my hand over his back in an effort to comfort him. His twitch caused me to hesitate, but he said, “Don’t stop.”
It was another two hours before the doctor appeared, exhausted, to talk to them. Jake was standing next to Connor’s mom, holding her hand, when they got the news. Jake looked over at me and his relieved smile told me everything I needed to know.
An hour later, Connor was in recovery and, with only family allowed, Jake came to take me home. I was exhausted. We both were. It was after midnight on a Friday. I had been up since six that morning and was mentally and physically exhausted by this point.
I managed to nod, and he took my arm to escort me to the car. He skirted the main entrance, still trying to protect my identity. As we walked through the parking lot, I saw his captain speaking with a man by the main entrance. I paused, looking at the stranger’s back. There was something about the man that was familiar. His stance or build. I wasn’t sure why, but I wanted him to turn so I could see his face. He didn’t though, and I let Jake pull me along.
Once we left the hospital, I realized I couldn’t go home. I explained to Jake and he nodded, turning onto the highway to go out of town. The rumble of the tires on the highway lulled me to sleep quickly. It felt like a few minutes later that Jake was shaking me. I stumbled after him into a building. He pulled us into an elevator and opened a door a few minutes later. He sat me down on a bed, and I blinked at him. “Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” I nodded and laid down, sleep taking me immediately.
Hours later, I woke up to sunlight streaming into the room. I blinked, disoriented. I had no idea where I was, as I looked around. The walls were light gray, and the comforter I was tucked under was a dark navy. There was a picture on the nightstand, and I recognized a younger Jake with an older couple. His parents, I imagined. I knew he had an older brother and sister as well. I figured out I must be at his real apartment. The knowledge was surreal. It felt like our two worlds had collided with a sudden explosion. The day before trickled back in, and I blinked back emotional tears. My moment on the bed with Jake followed by the race to save Connor overwhelmed me. The tears I denied yesterday wouldn't let me continue to deny them, and I cried helplessly over everything that had happened.
Jake found me a few minutes later and held me while I cried. He murmured soothing words, rocking me gently as the tears poured out. Finally, they stopped, leaving me drained but feeling better.
“Connor?” I asked, uncertain. Last night he had pulled through surgery, but I wasn’t sure what the verdict was this morning.
“He’s okay,” Jake answered. “He has a long road to recovery, but he’s alive.” He nudged me gently. “You tell me. Is Connor going to be okay?” I smiled and then laughed, as the relief flowed through me. He was.
“One more question.” I felt the press of his lips against my forehead. “Did Connor find out anything from the contact?” I shook my head in the negative. They’d never had a chance to exchange a word before they were shot. Jake walked me through what happened by asking me questions. The contact, Larry, was shot first. It gave Connor enough time to turn slightly before getting shot himself. That slight movement had probably saved his life.
Something about the night before was bothering me, niggling in my memory, but I couldn’t seem to grasp it. Jake interrupted my thoughts, “Do you want to take a shower? I put some clothes in the bathroom for you. I’ll make breakfast, okay?” I nodded gratefully. A shower and food sounded perfect. Maybe then I could remember what was bothering me.
The shower woke me up and made me feel human again. I pulled on a pair of Jake’s sleep pants and t-shirt. It was comfortable and had the faint aroma I associated with Jake; a combination of laundry detergent and cotton. I took a deep breath, already knowing he was never getting these clothes back.
I walked into the kitchen to see a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast waiting for me. My stomach rumbled at the sight, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before. I dove into the food, and there was nothing but the sound of us crunching, until we finished.
I had remembered what I wanted to ask Jake, while I was in the shower. “Did you see the guy the captain was talking to last night?” I asked him, remembering the man’s back. The sense of familiarity wouldn’t leave me. I wished I had seen his face.
“What man? When?” Jake asked me. When he asked, ‘What man?’ I could almost see the man’s face, but a shadow hovered over it, and I groaned in frustration. I knew there was something about him, something important.
“Last night when we left the hospital. Your captain was talking to another man. I only saw his back, but there’s something about him. Something important,” I replied, irritated that I couldn’t figure it out.
Jake shook his head apologetically, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention. I wanted to get you out of there without anyone seeing you.”
I nodded understandingly before asking him, “What’s going to happen now?”
Jake sighed, his reluctance clear. “Our cover is essentially blown. Connor’s for sure and then I showed up to save him, blowing my own. We still have Daniel’s testimony, but we can’t take the risk of remaining undercover here. Obviously, our dirty cop was able to find out we were looking for him.”
I nodded, relief flowing through me at the knowledge he would be safe now, but also aware our time together had ended. He seemed to know what I was thinking as he said, “I shouldn’t have brought you here, but I wanted you to see me. The real me.”
I smiled, telling him, “I always saw the real you, but it is nice to know you have actual furniture.” He laughed with me, our moment bittersweet in the presence of an uncertain future.
As we left his apartment, I tried to give his phone back.
“No.” He pushed it back at me. “It’s yours. Don’t worry about the bill. I need to know I can get in touch with you. That you’re safe.” My heart warmed at the implication he wasn’t quite ready to let me go either. I nodded and slid the phone back into my pocket. I took one last look around his apartment, the decor clean and masculine. The place suited him perfectly, and I admitted I was gratified not to see any feminine touches. It was obvious his girlfriend didn’t live with him. I knew I should be ashamed of my thoughts, but I wasn’t. My t
ime with Jake would never be anything I regretted.
It took us about thirty minutes to drive to my house, since he lived a couple towns over from me. We sat in the car as it idled, staring at my front door. I was reluctant to end our time together. We both tried to speak at the same time. I paused and let him go ahead. “Call me if you ever need anything. I won’t be back at school.” His look was one of finality. I thought I saw a flicker of regret before he shuttered his emotions. He hadn’t enjoyed going back to high school, but I liked to think I had made the time passable.
“Same here.” My smile was a pitiful parody of my usual happy one. “Any time you have a question that needs answering I’m your girl.” He nodded, giving me that heart stopping grin that showed a hint of his dimple. “I won’t forget it,” he said, before leaning over to brush his lips against mine. The kiss was feather light and over in a second, but it was the only kiss we had shared that held no pretense. No undercover, playing pretend, or using each other. I touched my lips, cherishing the delicate impression his lips left on mine.
I forced myself out of his car, pushing the door shut behind me. In spite of my determination not to, I glanced back and saw him watching me intently. My hand jerked in an automatic wave as I reached my front door.
I fumbled with my keys before giving up and trying the door to find it already unlocked. Shoving the door open, I forced myself to walk across the threshold knowing the agony that awaited me. I leaned back against the door listening to him put the car in reverse and then roar out of my life. My eyes drifted closed as the tears I had been holding back slipped down my cheeks.
Chapter Thirteen
The next few weeks passed slowly. Jake sent a few texts to keep me updated, and I clung to them like a lifeline, desperate for any interaction at all.
The first time he texted was to let me know Connor had been released from the hospital. He would have months of recovery and rehabilitation ahead of him, but he would be fine. A few weeks after his first text, I got another saying they had put Daniel Phillips into federal witness protection. The case wouldn’t go to trial for months, and they were afraid Daniel would wind up dead.
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