by Terri Marie
"Oh God, Tyler. I need to see him!" She began to cry harder.
"No, you both need to stay in bed and heal. Brian's just a couple of rooms away, down the hall. When you guys are feeling better, you can see each other."
"How did you find out that they'd questioned, Brian?"
"Vincent and I were in the room with him at the time. We were walking in the hallway, after checking on Jacob, when we spotted the detectives heading towards his room. We took off and were on their heels before they got the chance to speak to him alone."
The nurse came back into the room. "Renee, you can have some pain medication if you need it."
"No, I'm okay as long as I lay still, don't laugh, yawn, cough, or do aerobics." Renee winked at Diana.
"You have your call light if you need anything," she said, closing the door behind her.
When they were alone again, Tyler leaned over and kissed her forehead. "I love you. I was so scared, Renee." He held her hands and looked down at her. If anyone had died, he'd have lived out the rest of his life crippled inside. My brother, Renee, and Brian, were almost killed. I was busy running out to the driveway, while they were being shot at. I should have been the last one to leave the house, so I could have helped them. Guilt was creeping through his veins.
"Tyler, I love you with all of my heart, but I'm not going to let Robert hurt you guys, any more than he already has. I hope you understand that you can't hide me anymore. Two innocent people almost lost their lives, because the psychopath was trying to get to me."
"Listen to me! I'm not letting you go off by yourself. It's not happening, Renee. I'm not budging on this." Tyler's gut twisted at the mere thought of her out there alone and being hunted.
Renee lay silent for a minute. "We can't escape him forever. He'll come for us again, Tyler. He's not done."
"No, we're not going to run. I'll put you guys in hiding until this is over. Vincent is hiring investigators to find Robert. If the police don't get to him before I do, he's a dead man." Tyler meant every word he said.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
Robert was livid. The stupid doctor hadn't even fixed his arm. The bastard. What the hell good were they anyway? "I'm a big fat doctor and I'll charge too much money not to fix shit!" he yelled out loud. It felt good to finally be able to make some noise. His damn wife sure was causing him a shitload of work. He could be in his apartment, watching ESPN, but noooo. His useless wife had decided to walk out on him, all because he asked her to go pick up some beer and snacks for poker night. What the hell? Now his arm was busted, and he needed to find out who'd knocked him out…Who drove that big ass van.
The girly designed doctor's office was going to open up soon, and then his little stupid patients would see their dead hero. Robert could just picture Dr. Viva Las Vegas reaching for that metal bowl so he wouldn't mess up that clean floor. He laughed at images of the hole in the doctor's throat. It was the same size as the pansy's eyes.
He'd checked upstairs to dig around and see if the doc had anything clean he could put on. But the stupid Ripoff Doctor was a puny, boney-faced man. Was. Robert laughed. The fridge was stocked though, and Robert could smell the baked chicken and beans he'd heated up in the microwave. Even though he was starving, Robert had to get out of dodge before someone showed up. He wasn't scared of the stupid hick folks, and he knew he had plenty of bullets in his rifle, but Robert hated to waste them on anyone other than his prey. That's me, King of the Jungle! He laughed out loud, causing his swollen arm to hurt.
Not that it creeped him out or anything, but he didn't want the bone that was sticking out to get caught on anything. It was still bleeding some, so Robert had found some gauze and dressing, and wrapped up his arm. "That'll be sixty bucks!" Robert couldn't help but mock the doctor again. His arm wouldn't be very useful in this condition. Hell, he'd had trouble lifting the beauty to shoot the idiot. In a way it was worth it. Now he had a great story for his next poker night. "So this one night, I got hit with a bowl…" He'd never been hit with a bowl before. Who the hell swings a bowl? Robert was tempted to get off on an exit, just to tell the patients at that stupid wanna-be doctor's office, how ignorant the man was. Yep, go ahead and pay the Bowl Slinger. Robert busted out laughing so hard, it was difficult to keep the car on the road.
Robert's stomach was growling loudly, and that chicken he'd wrapped up and placed in the backseat, smelled better and better by the second. He'd have to find a place to pull over soon. The next exit was to Maryville. As he came to a red light, he was tempted to pick up his rifle and blow the brains out of that stupid blonde who was giving him dirty looks in the next lane, shaking her head, and rolling her eyes. Who does that Stupid Bitch think she is? I'm a killer. Who makes fun of a killer? The freakin' King of the Jungle!
Instead of shooting the twit, Robert pulled into a shopping plaza parking lot and got his meal out of the backseat. He wasn't very happy that it was no longer warm, but it tasted good. He cooks like a girl. Robert giggled and stuffed his mouth full with chicken and beans. When he was done eating, he wiped his hands on his jeans and then tossed the empty plate on floor next to him. As he lifted his stretched-out shirt over his large belly to wipe his mouth, he spotted a hospital sign. A new plan struck him immediately. Robert started the car and headed up the road. He grabbed his wallet out of the console, and shoved it under the seat. Concocting a story was going to be simple; doctors are idiots, nurses are women. This would be easy. Easy peasy!
Robert parked on the other side of the building and walked around to the emergency room. He became more pissed off with each step he took. He kept thinking about that blasted parking structure. He hated his stupid wife and was glad she was dead. When Robert walked inside, the girl sitting behind the desk had a name tag. Her first initial was "R" and he wanted to punch her just in case her name was Renee.
"May I help you?" the bimbo asked.
"I need to see a doc. I was fishing and fell on some rocks. I busted up my arm pretty good." Robert took off his bandage, just to gross her out.
"Do you have some identification?" Bimbo needed to be slapped around.
"No, I lost my wallet in the lake." Robert was proud of himself for his quick thinking again.
"What's your name, Sir?" Bimbo asked.
"Lawrence Smith." That's a mighty fine name, thought Robert.
"Have a seat right here, and I'll get someone to come and help you," R. Bimbo picked up the phone.
A nurse came out, another blonde, and escorted Robert back to an examination room. She looked at his arm, and then up at his face.
"Let me go get the doctor, Mr. Smith. My name's Amee and I'll be your nurse. I'll be back in a jiff to get an IV started and get some blood work on you."
How 'bout you just stick the needle in your ass. He wanted to laugh, but he knew better.
Robert looked out the door and into the hall. The stupid nurse left it open, so everyone who walked by, stared at him. If there weren't so many people around, he'd punch each one of the Nosey Bastards in the throat. Finally, the doctor walked in. A Jock, Robert concluded. The man was young and muscular, but The Freakin' King of the Jungle was waaayyy smarter than him.
"Mr. Lawrence Smith? I'm Doctor Jefferson. How'd you break your arm?"
He smells like garlic, thought Robert. Doctor Garlic.
"I fell on some rocks when I was fishing. Lost my wallet and everything." The idiot doesn't even read the damn chart first.
"Are you here by yourself?"
"Yep. I was on vacation and slipped and fell." Robert wished he'd hurry the hell up and shut it.
"Well, Lawrence, you have what's called a compound fracture. We're going to have to do surgery to fix this kind of break. The nurse will be back in shortly to make you more comfortable. I'm going to call the orthopedic surgeon on staff to come and see you."
Robert was grateful that Doctor Garlic, got out of his face. He wasn't happy about sitting there forever, while the stupid nurse took her damn time. When she walked into his r
oom and smiled, Robert wanted to flip her off.
"I need you to put this gown on for me, and then I'll start your IV. Do you need some help?"
When the nurse took Robert's big shirt sleeve, and began to slide it off of his good arm, he wanted to slap her back to the circus. He knew he couldn't cause a fuss here, though, so he let her.
After the nurse started the IV, she made Robert feel very fuzzy. He could hardly stay awake long enough to talk to the Old-Man surgeon. Robert hoped he wouldn't keel over dead while he was operating. He signed his name on a sheet of paper, and almost screwed up. Lawrence Smith, Lawrence Smith, Lawrence Smith. He couldn't tell anyone—
Robert startled awake as he was being rolled down the hall on the stretcher.
Chapter 6
Jacob Montclair slowly opened his eyes when he heard the familiar voices of his brothers, Sean and Tyler. One of the biggest jokes in the family was about Sean's driving; he had the worst lead foot of anyone he'd ever met. Jacob could only imagine how fast he'd driven to get them to the hospital. The doctor had told him that he was 'clinically dead' when the van pulled up to the emergency room doors. He hadn't learned about Renee and Brian's injuries until he saw their names on the board of the surgical intensive care unit. Jacob was beyond relieved that none of their gunshot wounds were fatal. But even so, he'd much rather be shot to death, than burned alive in a house fire.
He talked to Tyler briefly before drifting back to sleep. Jacob could see the worry in his brother's eyes; the one who'd always looked after them, trying to take on the responsibility of their well-being, even after they'd become grown men. Despite the smile Tyler had kept on his face, Jacob could tell how exhausted he was. It seemed like the weight of the world was resting on that man's shoulders.
He remembered Sean being the first person he saw when he woke up on the unit. That's when he'd been informed that Robert was the shooter. Jacob recalled the stabbing, burning pain in his abdomen when he reached the porch and feeling the wetness spreading beneath him, but after that, everything went black.
Tyler kept checking on everyone, while Vincent was keeping all the legal ramifications at bay, but Sean had refused to leave his side. Jacob had always had a special bond with his twin brother, but now, it was stronger than ever. He wished he was in a position to comfort his family like they were comforting him, but that'd have to wait. Even the smallest movement caused him pain.
The doctors had repaired a large vein and his intestines, which were struck by the bullet. The surgeon didn't think Jacob would develop an infection due to his intestinal injury, but they were keeping him on strong antibiotics, just to be safe. The nurse was going to make him get up and walk to the chair in the morning, which he wasn't looking forward to, but he needed to heal and regain his strength. The Montclairs were exceptionally close and took care of each other. They'd band together to overcome all obstacles, including Robert. Jacob would have to be ready to fight alongside his brothers; he knew for a fact that Tyler, Sean, and Vincent, were about ready to reverse the hunt.
The detectives came in earlier. He knew better than to speak with them without Vincent in the room, so Sean called him immediately. The questions weren't bad, but they were draining. Detectives Delcan and Joy would be handling the investigation, and Jacob felt those two would best be of service working at a car wash. The pair was inept at best. When Robert's body wasn't found in the driveway, he knew that the real fight had just begun. Seriously, if you're going to attack a Montclair, you'd better make damned sure you kill him. No matter how long it took, they'd find Robert and make sure he never hurt another living soul.
The pain medications the nurses kept giving him were causing him to lose track of time, and blurred his vision. Jacob could have sworn he saw that woman, who called herself Angelique, standing in his doorway in the middle of the night. Jacob blinked hard to try and focus, but she'd disappeared like dust in the wind. Maybe what he saw was real, but maybe it wasn't. The older woman had walked into the Montclair house the night of the fire, but why was she here? He'd have to tell Vincent to check into it. Hopefully he was just seeing things.
He loved seeing his brother, Tyler; his mentor, foundation, and father-figure when he was left without one. But every time he saw him, he thought of Emma. Jacob hadn't seen her yet. As angry and upset as he'd made her, she probably could care less about what happened to him. Still, he wished he could see her, even if all she did was tell him to go to hell. He could only imagine what she was going through right now.
"Hey, you're awake," said Sean while he stretched out on the chair and yawned.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," replied Jacob as he held his stomach and tried to stop himself from laughing.
"How're you feeling?" Sean stood up.
Jacob could tell that his brother wanted to make a smart-mouthed comment, but he refrained.
"I'll be doing better after they get this damn tube out of my nose. I'm ready to remove it myself. It's irritating the hell out of me." Jacob couldn't stand it. His mouth felt like sandpaper and he wasn't allowed to drink anything yet.
"The doc said your stomach has to stay empty so your wounds can heal. Perhaps you can teach it how to be a slacker like the rest of you." Sean rolled up a magazine and gently tapped his brother's leg.
Jacob wanted to ask about Emma, but he didn't know how to bring it up. With Sean at his side, he knew that Tyler, Vincent, and Emma, were trying to keep an eye on Brian and Renee.
"I'll give you less than three cents for your thoughts, Bro," Sean teased.
"Is Emma doing alright? I haven't seen her." Jacob hoped his brother wouldn't read too much into the question, though it wasn't a secret that the pretty redhead wanted to choke the crap out of him.
"She's with Brian. Let me swap places with her for a few." Sean picked up his phone from the nightstand and called Emma.
"You didn't have to do that," said Jacob, though he was happy he did.
"I'll meet her in the hall. That way Brian isn't left alone, because the detectives have been hounding him. I'll be back." He turned and walked out the door.
Jacob felt so bad about the kid. He couldn't imagine being in his shoes, knowing that the cops could haul him back to his parents. Somewhere along the way, the Montclairs had become more focused on Brian's safety, rather than on him being a witness. But Jacob had no doubt that Brian, even if faced with dire circumstances, would walk into a courtroom to save Tyler. Besides, he'd risked his own life and possible capture, just to ensure Renee's safety, which said a lot about the kid's character.
"Jacob?" Emma walked inside the room, cautiously.
"Hey, Em. I hadn't seen you and wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn't mean to pull you away from Brian," Jacob could feel his cheeks getting warm. Here she was, seeing him at his worst, and yet she walked closer to him than she had in years.
She stopped at the side of his bed and bowed her head.
"Look at me, Emma, and tell me what's wrong?" Jacob feared that something had happened to Renee.
"I can't," she whispered. "Give me a minute." Emma choked on a sob as tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Shhh," said Jacob, as he reached through the railing and held her hand.
She immediately wrapped both of her hands around his, and then lowered her face so she could press her cheek against him.
Jacob wished he could get up and hold her. With his other hand, he reached up and placed his palm against the side of her hair, trying to hug her the best way he could.
"I thought—I'm sorry…" Emma sobbed. "Forgive me, please. I shouldn't have been so angry for all this time…to never see you again. Oh, Jacob, I'm so, so sorry." She squeezed his hand even tighter.
"We're all alive for a reason. Sean told me some of what you went through, and how hard you tried to help us in the back of the van. Thank you…you're a fighter, Emma. We all are." Jacob pulled her down closer to him so he could wipe the tears from her face. Each time he'd tried to talk to her in the past, to clear the a
tmosphere between them, she'd become angry and was cold as ice. Jacob couldn't risk never having another chance to discuss what had happened. "I didn't know why you were so angry with me. After I saw you that evening in the restaurant, things changed between us. If I offended you with my flirting, I apologize. I'm not normally like that." He hoped she wouldn't storm out of the room.
"This is embarrassing for me to talk about, Jacob." Emma slowly stood up straight, releasing his hand. "I got an email from you, inviting me out for dinner. By the time I got home, I was so excited. Normally I don't have a reason to try to make myself pretty, but that night…" Emma turned her back and waited a moment before continuing. "When I was escorted to your table, you were sitting there with another woman. I felt so hurt and humiliated. Making myself stay angry at you was my way of preventing you from ever having another chance to do that to me again."
"My God, Em. I wish you would have said something to me. That woman was actually my younger foster sibling. Her name is Emily, and I wish I would have been more careful when I went through my contacts. She'd just gotten her braces off, so it was my way of celebrating with her. She's a bit hyper and gets sidetracked pretty easily, so I sent her a kind reminder. That must have been the email you got. I feel so sick for making you feel that way." If Jacob could have kicked himself in the ass, at that very second, he would have.
"Really?" Emma's face showed a mixture of relief and shock all at the same time.
"Really. If I was going to go out on an actual date, I'd have asked in person."
"I'm sorry, Jacob. I shouldn't have assumed you wanted to go out with me." Emma's cheeks warmed as she turned her face away.
"Am I interested in meeting someone to date right now? No. Would I mind dating you? No. Hell no." Even if he angered her again, Jacob had to risk it. "I can't exactly dance or even eat food right now, but when this is all over with, would you, Emma Ward, go out with me?"
