Open Wounds

by Camille Taylor

  Rose sat down on a small wheeled stool, and rolled closer to the examination bed where Darryl sat. She took his hand in her own small, delicate one.

  Kellie took a few steps closer, her teeth cutting into her lip with worry and watched as Rose removed the now red towel and probed at the injury.

  “This is deep. How’d you get it?” she asked, and Kellie realised Rose had become a nurse rather than a friend in that short moment she had examined the wound and discovered it to be more than a mild cut.

  Darryl shrugged. “Fell into a mirror.”

  Rose raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. “You’ll need stitches,” she told him as she moved his hand to hover over a stainless steel bowl resting on the table next to the bed. She retrieved a slender opaque container with a nozzle on the top that Kellie assumed to be antiseptic liquid and washed out his wound, clearing it of smaller shards of glass to keep it from getting infected. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

  Darryl winced and Kellie was immediately by his side, caressing his back to comfort him. He smiled gratefully at her.

  “A couple years ago, I think.”

  Rose nodded. “I’ll give you another just in case.”

  Kellie shuddered. She hated needles.

  A short time later, he’d had his shot and Rose finished up with the last of his stitches. Kellie had alternated from comforting Darryl, to pacing, to looking over Rose’s shoulder as she worked. If the nurse had minded, she’d been polite enough not to comment.

  Kellie occupied her mind during the entire process, switching between concern for Darryl, grateful that his injury wasn’t more serious and scouring her memory for when she might’ve met Rose previously. Although the woman made no sign that she recognised Kellie, the sense of familiarity stayed with Kellie.

  Frustrated, she began pacing again. Rose shared a look with Darryl and her blood boiled from jealousy. She’d never once been jealous in her entire life and Kellie hated the feeling, but she knew she was seeing the little green monster when she imagined Rose and Darryl together.

  She stopped suddenly and glared at them, hating to be out on the inside joke. “What?” she demanded, and both Darryl and Rose’s heads swung in her direction.

  “How long have you two been dating?” Rose asked conversationally.

  Kellie fiddled with a loose fabric on her shirt. “We’re not.”

  He stiffened. She winced internally. She'd hurt him with that denial.

  Rose glanced at each of them in turn, and her mouth formed a perfect O. “Forgive me, I just assumed…”

  Kellie stared at her back intently. The nurse caught her gaze over the curve of her elegant shoulder and cocked her head enquiringly at Kellie.

  Her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement.

  Rose smiled and turned her attention back to Darryl’s hand.

  “If you’re wondering why I seem so familiar it’s probably because I look like my little brother,” Rose told her. “He works at the LAC.”

  Realisation dawned on Kellie and she smiled. “Nick,” she said, and Rose nodded. She could see it so clearly now. How had she not noticed it before? Rose had the same midnight black hair, only hers was much longer and pulled into a high ponytail. Her eyes were also the same cornflower blue as Nick’s. But that was where the similarities ended. Where her brother was six foot, Rose was closer to her height.

  “Yep, Detective Nicholas Doyle, my Nicky. Do you know him?” Rose tied off the last stitch.

  “Kellie trains with Nick,” Darryl said.

  Rose gave her a considering look. “Does he ride you hard too? You’d think being his sister he would cut me some slack, but no.”

  Kellie laughed and she relaxed, the tension draining out of her with one of the questions currently bouncing around her head answered. She peered over Rose’s head and her gaze settled on Darryl. As always, when their eyes met, her stomach fluttered and desire heated her blood. Her body tingled with awareness. She couldn't seem to be able to control herself where he was concerned.

  “Yes, Nick’s a slave driver but I’ve come to respect him for it. He only wants the best from us.”

  Rose nodded and wrapped a clean bandage around Darryl’s palm. “Yes, he does,” Rose agreed before changing the subject back to the more serious. “Now, change the dressing daily. Don’t let it get wet and if you start to feel your temperature rise call me immediately.”

  “I will. Thank you, Rosie.”

  Rose hugged Darryl, then squeezed Kellie’s arm on her way out.

  “He’ll be all right,” she said soothingly, but in a tone that made Kellie think that if Rose decreed it, then it must be so. “It was nice meeting you.”

  “You too.”

  A moment later she and Darryl were alone, and she moved to stand beside him. He shot her look.

  “What?”

  “I was getting worried there for a moment. You were starting to look very dangerous, Kellie. I thought you were going to slug Rose.”

  She snorted derisively. “Hardly.”

  “You can’t tell me you weren’t jealous.”

  “Like you were yesterday when you growled at Nick?” she countered. She wasn’t proud to admit that she’d gotten a little thrill when he’d snarled at Nick. She remembered his easy exchanges with the nurse. “Do I have a reason to be jealous?”

  “No. I’ve never had carnal thoughts about Rose.”

  She placed her hands on her hips, not believing him. “How is that possible? The woman is gorgeous.”

  Darryl shrugged. “She’s like a little sister to me. Besides, Nick wouldn’t take kindly to one of us fooling around with his sister. Not unless marriage was our intention.”

  “Ah, yes, because then it would be all right,” she said mockingly.

  “We men are simple creatures.”

  Kellie didn’t doubt that. They could be extremely single minded when the occasion called for it. She shivered at the sensual reminder of how intently Darryl could focus on a task. She led him out of the ER and towards the parking lot. His keys jingled in her hand as she walked.

  “Come on. I’ll take you home and keep an eye on you.”

  “No,” he said, coming to a stop. “It’ll be better to keep some distance between us.”

  Kellie turned around to face him. He looked like a man with his mind made up. Clearly she hadn’t been the only one thinking. Sharp pain pierced her heart but she forced her face to be impassive, as if his words weren’t crushing her. She had given him the power to shatter her after all, she thought harshly.

  “We’re good together, Kellie, but that doesn’t change the fact that getting involved right now isn’t the best idea. I could see how much it frightened you in there and how worried you are about me. It could be dangerous in the wrong situation and I think we both need to take a step back, at least until the case is over.”

  She had to admit that he was right. She cared for Darryl far too much and it surprised her. She wanted him with every fibre of her being. The night they were together only seemed to whet her appetite for him and every day they spent in each other’s company had her falling for him even more. The intensity of her feelings scared her more than looking down the barrel of Wayne’s gun. He was kind, considerate, and just plain wonderful. She wondered what the hell he saw in her. She was temperamental, bitchy, and her sharp tongue had the ability to cut a person to shreds if she so chose.

  What the hell would she do? They had moved too quickly, jumping into bed without thinking of the consequences, and now they were being brought into the harsh light of day. Not too long ago, she’d had everything worked out and now she was utterly lost.

  She wanted Darryl’s strong arms wrapped around her comfortingly. How had she become so dependent on him in such a short amount of time? She hated that he had so much control over her and that she had very little. She needed to step back and maybe get some well needed clarity.

  Darryl swore and stepped closer. He pulled her into his arms and she realised she mu
st’ve let her true feelings show on her face. Damn her for allowing that mask to slip. She stiffened her spine and broke the embrace. She had to be practical. Maybe the time apart would be good for them. Make her realise he wasn’t as awesome as she believed him to be.

  Could they be happy? She wasn’t so sure. She was too damaged to be able to sustain a healthy relationship. Darryl may understand the demons she fought but she’ll never be able to share them with him. And they were a very big part of her life. Surely she was just kidding herself. Maybe it was better to make a clean break now before either one of them got in too far over their head. Before he had the ability to break her heart so completely that there would be nothing left but the pieces.

  Her mind made up, she smiled sweetly and brushed a light kiss over his lips. A goodbye kiss. Desire sizzled. Passion ignited and she forced herself back even though she wanted to deepen the kiss—to stroke his tongue with hers.

  But Darryl had a point. The case they were working was dangerous and if they didn’t get their distance they could easily wind up getting one or both of them killed. That didn’t mean she didn’t hate him for suggesting it.

  “You take the car. I'll have one of the guys swing round and pick me up.”

  Kellie nodded and stepped back. “Goodbye. Take care Darryl. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She turned and started quickly away. Usually she wasn’t such a coward but she needed space between her and Darryl. Needed it like her next breath. Had he heard the finality in her voice? The pain consumed her.

  “This isn’t over,” he called out to her. “When the case is over, you’d better watch out because I’ll be coming for you, Kellie Munroe, and I won’t be letting go.”

  She picked up her speed.

  Chapter 30

  A few days later, Kellie hit the print button and waited for the printer on her desk to spit out her report. The temperamental beast wheezed sickly before finally relinquishing the paper. She gathered up the pages and signed the bottom of the document before stapling it into to the manila folder resting on her desk.

  The siege and corresponding paperwork on the Houston was over and the three bodies belonging to the party who’d opened fire on the LAC—along with their executioner—had been brought to the morgue for identification.

  The case against Coleani continued to move slowly. The man had not managed to stay in power for as long as he had by being sloppy. Kellie felt frustration at every turn. She’d hoped by now that they would’ve been able to build a strong case, but if anything she felt further away from her goal than the day they’d started.

  She hadn’t seen Darryl again since the hospital despite her weakening resolve, especially at night when the memories of how he felt against her body were the strongest. She longed to be held by him again, longed for more mornings like the one they’d shared in bed, and felt a tightness in her chest and a deep sorrow inside her. She knew she was doing the best thing for them both by maintaining distance but she hated herself for it. Only knowing there could be no future except heartache stopped her from throwing herself at him.

  It would be foolish to hope. Sure, the idea had appeal.

  Home. Love. Family.

  Everything she’d been deprived of in the past. But it was too risky, and she felt hollow inside. Darryl deserved so much better than her. She would never be normal, her issues running so deep they might never be resolved. Kellie wasn’t even sure if she had the capacity to love and she didn’t want Darryl to end up hating her for never being able to give him what he’d eventually want from her.

  She ached knowing he’d never be hers, but she wasn’t selfish enough to keep him when she knew nothing would come from their relationship. For a brief moment she’d been sublimely happy, then the world had come crashing down beside her and she was forced to sift through the rubble.

  Despite the arrest warrant out for Wayne Burton, he’d yet to be located and she’d been placed on desk duty by her boss. She’d been practically chained to her cubicle, which may have helped her to keep her distance from Darryl, but it made overseeing Mia difficult. Thankfully, her friend had graciously kept her informed on the meagre developments in the case. Carlisle had also insisted she speak with the site psychologist, so she’d spent two hours with the woman. She left feeling raw and in a worse emotional place than when she’d first walked through the door.

  Kellie brought up yet another report template and began filling out the relevant information. She was so engrossed in deciphering her own notes that she didn’t hear the man approach her desk.

  “Such a nice office, Ms. Munroe,” he said.

  Kellie startled, and found herself staring into the cold eyes of Dick Coleani. She tensed and took a deep breath in an effort to control her outward appearance. Her mind might be wreaking havoc on the inside but her expression remained composed and indifferent. Kellie fought the urge to throw her letter opener at him. The scum had some nerve to sully the LAC with his stench.

  “Mr. Coleani, to what do I owe this honour?” she asked, distain dripping from her voice.

  He stepped closer. “I’m just visiting the detectives downstairs, trying to help out in Michael’s case.”

  “Come to sign a confession, have you? That would certainly make things easier,” she said flippantly, even while her stomach knotted.

  He smiled, baring his teeth which were slightly yellowed, a colour that no amount of cleaning could possibly remove. “I’ve also come to make arrangements for Mikey’s body.”

  She nodded. “Probably would have been easier to have buried him after you shot him, huh? That way you could’ve bypassed all that red tape.”

  Coleani grinned as if she truly amused him. “You’re nothing like your mother, you know that? She was so pliable. No sense of self-respect. Do you know I punished her every time you interfered with my business? In the end, she enjoyed it.”

  Bile rose and her throat burned in an effort to keep from throwing up. She’d seen the bruises on her mother’s skin, yet the woman had always brushed off her concern. Knowing Coleani had touched Jules gave her the shivers, but to know her mother had unduly suffered at his hands because of her actions gave her pause. Kellie had never expected retaliation. She’d been foolish and her mother had paid the price.

  She blinked back tears for her mother, who had tried her best and had taken the brunt of Coleani’s anger for her. She wanted to rip this man apart with her bare hands. The letter opener looked extremely good right now.

  She remained quiet lest she open her mouth and allow him to see how much his words affected her. He eagerly waited for a response. She would not give him one—at least not the one he was after.

  “I never thought a perky little blonde could cause so much trouble,” he commented when she didn’t rise to the bait.

  “Yes, well, we know how you deal with trouble don’t we, Mr. Coleani? You’re leaving quite a few bodies in your wake.”

  His eyes hardened. “You may want to take note of who you’re talking to, little girl. I have eyes everywhere. Call off the investigation or you’ll find you’re the one getting buried.”

  Kellie sucked in a sharp breath. “Is that a threat? Note who you are talking to. I am not a little girl. I am a sergeant in the NSW police force.”

  He snarled. “I don’t give a shit who you are. Back away or you’ll find yourself in a world of pain.”

  Her ill-advised temper reared its ugly head. “What will you do? Sic Wayne on me?” she asked tartly even as her heart beat wildly in her chest.

  He stepped closer again, his voice dropping an octave. “Oh no, Ms. Munroe, it’s not you I’ll attack. It’ll be your friends downstairs. Your buddy Nick, the instructor. How about dear Amelia…or what about your current fuck, Detective Hill? Yes, I know all about you. Do you really want to be responsible for whatever happens to them? Good day, Ms. Munroe. Please take some time to consider what I’ve said.”

  He walked out of her office like a king, as if he owned the building and had ev
ery right to be there. Kellie slammed a fist against her desk, hard. The sound echoed in the empty room. Her stomach knotted as once again she felt impotent, weak, and unable to defeat one man. She fought for control, breathing heavily in an effort to calm the rage and helplessness she felt. Tears rolled down her cheek.

  Days like these she wished she had a bottle of Wild Turkey in her bottom drawer. She yanked a tissue from her purse and dabbed at her rebellious tears, then blinked and took a moment to regain her composure before applying corrective foundation to her mascara streaked cheeks. When she had successfully covered up her temporary loss of control, she stood and adjusted her dark grey pencil skirt and jacket.

  For the first time, she felt thankful the elevator moved so slowly to the second floor. She was in no rush, but even so, the doors opened before she was ready and she stood staring out at the Pig Pen.

  “Stop whatever you’re doing in regards to the Coleani investigation,” she told them as she drew near, hoping her voice would remain steady and clear and not broadcast her fears.

  “What?” Amelia looked up from her desk, followed by the three other detectives. She felt Darryl’s stare acutely and it burned her. She refused to look in his direction, knowing she would crumble if she did.

  “Do as I say, Detective Donovan. You have your murderer lying in autopsy.”

  “And what of his murderer? Coleani is up to his ears in this.”

  “He may well be.”

  Amelia snorted. “You know he is.”

  “As far as IA is concerned, the investigation into your conduct is finished. All that’s needed to close the case is my report. I will advise you of the outcome. And unless you have direct evidence linking Coleani to the shootings, the LAC doesn’t have the manpower to continue looking into it.”

  Amelia raised an eyebrow, clearly biting off what she wanted to say.

  Kellie turned and started back toward the elevator. She passed Nick, who asked, “Has this got anything to do with the fact Dick Coleani just left?”

  She ignored him and quickly retreated, trying to hide her fear. Coleani didn’t make idle threats. She jabbed her finger against the up button and was relieved when the doors immediately opened. Kellie slipped inside. A moment later, Darryl’s large form dominated the small space.