Nobody But You B&N

by Barbara Freethy

  A split second later, a blast echoed through the bank.

  Hallie saw the second gunman falter, but she didn't have time to see what happened next as the hooded man punched her in the nose. She fell backwards, clipping the side of a desk with her head as she fell toward the ground. She put up her hands to defend herself from the next attack, but it didn't come.

  Spencer pulled the man off of her and hit him once, twice, a third time. The man retaliated, landing a blow on Spencer's jaw. They pummeled each other with desperate fury, a fight to the death.

  Hallie tried to get up. She needed to help, but she was having trouble standing up. Stars were still exploding in front of her eyes. She forced herself to focus. She couldn't get to her feet, but she could crawl. She might not be able to help Spencer, but she could help Max. She got back to his side and put her hands on his bleeding wound.

  And then the front door of the bank blasted open, the glass shattering into a million pieces, as the SWAT team rushed into the building. From there it was a flurry of action, the cops pulling Spencer and the gunman apart, the other hostages crying out with relief that it was finally over.

  The paramedics rushed to her side, and she lifted her bloody hands off of Max as they went to work on him. Spencer came over as they hooked Max up to an IV and put him on a gurney.

  "Where are you taking him?" Spencer asked.

  "St. Mary's."

  As the paramedics took Max out of the bank, Spencer turned to her. "We did it."

  "Yeah," she said, wiping her hands on her jeans.

  "Your nose is bleeding, Hallie."

  "Is it?" She had so much blood on her hands and clothes, she didn't know where it was coming from. Spencer grabbed some tissue off a nearby desk and handed it to her. She pressed a wad of Kleenex to her nose. It hurt. She had a feeling it might be broken. But if that were the worst of it, she'd be happy. "Is the other guy dead?" she asked, looking at a second set of paramedics, who were working on the gunman Spencer had shot.

  "No. I hit him in the leg."

  "Nice shooting."

  "It was instinct. You did the hard part, Hallie. You were amazing. So fearless."

  "I wasn't fearless; I was terrified. But I knew that it was going to be him or us, so I did what I had to do."

  "Yes, you did. You're stronger than you think."

  "Maybe I am," she murmured.

  "You need to go to the hospital, Hallie. Your nose could be broken, and your forehead is swelling up. You must be in pain."

  "I'm not feeling anything right now."

  "You will." Spencer called one of the cops over and told him she needed transportation to the hospital. She would have argued, because an emergency room was the last place she wanted to go, but she was feeling a little dizzy, and it probably wouldn't hurt to get checked out.

  Before she left, she gave Spencer one last look. "You told me earlier that your brother was the good one. You're not so bad yourself."

  "Right back at you," he said with a smile.

  "Goodbye, Spencer."

  "Not goodbye. I'll see you later. I still owe you that drink."

  * * *

  "Max," Emma screamed, as the paramedics exited the bank with Max strapped on to a stretcher.

  She'd been holding her breath since the shots had gone off and the police had swarmed the bank. Her father and Sean had had to hold her back from rushing the scene. Now she broke free of their grip and sprinted across the street. She met up with Max at the door to the ambulance. His shirt was soaked in blood, and his face was terribly white. She put her hand on his. His skin was ice cold. He was so still, she couldn't even tell if he was breathing, if his heart was beating.

  "I want to go with him," she told the paramedic.

  "No. Sorry. Meet us at St. Mary's."

  "Wait." She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "Fight, Max," she said.

  And then the paramedics loaded him into the ambulance and closed the doors. As the vehicle raced away, she wished she'd had another second to tell Max how much she loved him, because she was very afraid she was not going to get another chance.

  A fear like no other ran through her. She couldn't lose him now, before they'd even really started. She wanted years with him, marriage, children, and grandchildren.

  She started to sway, and her father's arm came around her shoulders. She turned into his embrace, pressing her face against his chest. He patted her on the back. "It's going to be all right, Emma. Have faith."

  She lifted her head to face him, needing the Jack Callaway power of conviction. When her father wanted something to happen, it happened.

  "Max is a strong man," he told her. "And he needs you to believe in him."

  "I do believe in him. But he's really hurt. I can't believe this is happening. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life."

  "The day is not over yet. You are not a quitter, Emma. Lord knows you've proven that to me on a lot of occasions. Don’t you give up on me now."

  She drew in a deep breath. "I won't. You're right. Max is going to be fine, and one day this is just going to be a crazy story we tell our kids."

  "That's my girl."

  "Will you take me to the hospital?"

  Her father nodded, but as they turned to leave, she stopped, looking back at the bank. "Where is Spencer? I should find him, make sure he's okay."

  "Spencer is talking to Brady. You'll see him at the hospital. He's all right."

  "Was he hurt?"

  "No, from what I understand Max was the only one shot. Spencer actually took down the bank robbers and saved Max's life. He's a hero."

  "Well, good for him," she said. "Max will be proud. He has tried to tell Spencer so many times that he is much more than just an ex-con. But Spencer hasn't been able to see that. Maybe he will now.

  Chapter Eight

  Ten minutes later, Emma and the rest of the Callaway clan, as well as Max's mother, Susan Harrison, gathered in the waiting room of the Emergency Department at St. Mary's Hospital. Information was not long in coming, but the news wasn't good.

  "Mr. Harrison is being prepped for surgery," the attending physician told Emma. "He took a gunshot wound to the abdomen and suffered heavy blood loss. We won't know the extent of the internal damage until we operate."

  "Oh, God!" Susan Harrison said, tears gathering in her eyes.

  Emma took Max's mother's hand in hers. Then she turned back to the doctor and asked what they all wanted to know. "Is he going to be all right?"

  "We're doing everything we can. The nurse will take you up to the third floor and show you where you can wait." He tipped his head to the woman in blue scrubs standing nearby. "Mr. Harrison will be in surgery for several hours. The surgeon will be Dr. Blake Holland. He will speak to you as soon as it's done."

  As the E.R. physician left, Emma looked at the nurse. "He didn't really answer my question."

  The nurse gave her a compassionate smile. "Let me show you to the waiting room."

  "You're not going to answer my question, either, are you?"

  "I'm afraid I don't know the answer, but I can tell you that Dr. Holland is the best surgeon we have. Mr. Harrison is in good hands." She turned and headed toward the elevator.

  "The doctor is one of the best," Emma told Susan, as they followed the nurse down the hall. Her words didn't seem to register. Max's mother was terrified, which only made Emma more worried. A part of her wanted to get away from the older woman's negativity, but she knew that Max would want her to make sure that his mother was all right.

  "I can't lose Max," Susan said. "He's always taken care of me, even though I drive him crazy half the time."

  "We're not going to lose him. I have big plans for your son." As they neared the elevator, Susan hesitated. "Maybe I should wait here for Spencer."

  "They'll tell him where to find us," Emma replied.

  "I can't believe my boys got caught up in a bank robbery. I blame myself for that."

  "Why?" she asked in surpri
se.

  "Because I suggested Max change his money before going to the airport."

  "You had no way of knowing what would happen."

  "I didn't. But I really wish I hadn't said that." She paused. "Max was so happy this afternoon. When he came by to get Spencer, he had the biggest smile on his face. It was blinding. I hadn't seen him like that in such a long time. It reminded me of the way he was as a little boy, so eager, curious, and optimistic. That all changed when his father left us. Max lost his joy. But he got it back when he met you." She gave Emma a sad smile. "You changed his life."

  "He changed mine, too," Emma said, as they stepped onto the elevator. "And I'm not giving up. You shouldn't, either. Max would want us to be strong."

  "He would," Susan agreed. "And I'm rarely as strong as my son would like me to be. But you are. You're going to get him through this."

  "We both are."

  Stepping off the elevator, they entered a nearby waiting room. Emma took a seat in a chair against the wall, happy when her mother made a point of asking Susan to sit with her, so Emma could have some time to herself. The rest of her family and bridal party spread out, smaller groups forming here and there. The cops and firefighters had stayed downstairs, so as not to crowd the family, but Emma knew there was a lot of support a few floors down.

  Nicole sat down next to her. "Can I get you anything, Em? Coffee? Water? Food? It sounds like we're going to be here for awhile."

  "I don't want anything."

  As she shifted in her seat, her gaze caught on a splash of red on the waist of her wedding dress. Her heart skipped a beat. She must have gotten the blood on her dress when she'd leaned over to kiss Max. She put her fingers against the red stain and then her mouth started to tremble. She had to bite down on her bottom lip to stop the cry of pain from slipping past her lips.

  "Emma?" Nicole asked, her brows knitting together with concern.

  "This is Max's blood. He lost so much."

  "If he needs blood, he'll get it. We'll line up the family, the firefighters and the police officers, and there will be plenty of blood flowing his way. And don't be thinking it's too late, because it's not. Callaways don't quit, and we don't give up."

  "You sound like Dad," she said with a sniff.

  "I was channeling him just now," Nicole admitted. "But the important thing is that he's right."

  "I know."

  "I need to check in with Jessica, see how Brandon is doing, but I'll be right back."

  "That's fine." As Nicole left, Emma settled back in her chair and rested her head against the wall. Closing her eyes, she said a silent prayer for Max's recovery. He had to get better, because he was truly the love of her lifetime. She forced the image of him lying so still, covered in blood, out of her mind and tried to bring up the happy memories.

  They'd had a lot of good moments in the past year, but probably the best was the day they'd moved into their apartment.

  She smiled to herself as she drifted to a happier place…

  It was after midnight.

  They'd spent the night unpacking boxes and arguing about where to put the ugly recliner Max thought was perfect for watching ballgames, and she thought was perfect for the dumpster.

  Max had ended up winning the argument with a kiss that had turned into much, much more. After making love, they'd been lying on the floor of their barely furnished apartment when Max rolled over on to his side and gave her a serious look.

  "What?" she asked. "If you thought making love to me was going to make me change my mind about the recliner, you do not know me at all. I am not that easy." She smiled, then started to worry when his expression only grew more serious. "Okay, I am that easy. If you really want the recliner—"

  "Emma, I don't give a damn about the recliner."

  "Then why do you look so concerned? What are you worrying about?"

  "Whether or not you'll say yes, or if you'll think it's soon, too fast."

  Her heart started to beat in triple time. "Yes to what, Max?"

  He gave her a long look. "Will you marry me, Em?"

  The question took her breath away. She hadn't been expecting him to propose so soon after moving in together. She'd thought they were easing their way towards a more permanent commitment.

  "Okay, now I'm thinking it is too soon," he said when she didn't answer. "Sorry, forget I asked."

  She immediately shook her head. "No, it's the perfect time—for the question and for the answer. Which is yes. I love you, Max. I want to marry you. I want to have a life with you."

  Relief flooded his eyes. "I love you, too, Emma. You are the most stubbornly annoying, beautiful, generous, smart woman, I know."

  "Hey, you could leave out a few of those adjectives," she protested. "And I'm not the only one who's stubborn. You have a very hard head."

  He smiled. "I know. We're a perfect match. I want to live with you and love you and fight with you every day of our lives."

  "Maybe we can keep the fights to only every now and then," she teased. "Or maybe never if you agree to put that chair in the dumpster."

  "Fine, the chair goes in the dumpster."

  "I was just kidding. If you can't live without it, then it stays. And I'll be very happy to curl up on your lap while you're sitting in it."

  "The only thing I can't live without is you."

  "You don't have to. I'm not going anywhere."

  "Good."

  "So when did you decide you wanted to marry me?" she asked.

  "After our first fight."

  "We fought the first day we met," she reminded him. "We were working on a case and you didn't want to share your information with me."

  "And you didn't want to share your info with me, either. But I thought you were gorgeous with your silky blond hair and spitfire blue eyes."

  "I thought you were annoying, but also kind of hot," she admitted.

  "I liked that you didn't back down."

  "No, you didn't," she teased.

  "Okay, maybe I didn't like it that much. But I know that life with you is going to be one hell of a ride."

  "Never boring. So when do you want to get married?"

  "Whenever you want. But for now…" He got up and walked across the room, pulling a jewelry box out of his coat pocket. Then he came back to her. "I was going to give this to you tomorrow, on your birthday." He glanced at the clock. "Actually it's after midnight, so it is your birthday." He opened the lid. "What do you think?"

  She gasped at the sight of beautiful square-cut diamond ring. "It's gorgeous. And it's so me. You did good."

  "I had a little help from your sister, Nicole. Do you like it?"

  "I love it."

  He slipped it on to her finger. "It fits."

  "It does," she said, tears blurring her eyes as she looked from the ring to him. "You just have to make me one promise, Max."

  "Anything."

  "Don't ever leave me."

  "I promise," he said, then kissed away her tears. "You and I are going to be together for a very long time."

  The memory of Max's words echoed through Emma's head as the dream faded away. She opened her eyes and looked around the waiting room, wishing she could go back to the happy place. But reality was right in front of her.

  There were a lot of concerned faces turned in her direction, but everyone was giving her space. Her family knew her well. She was a strong person, and she knew how to fight, but sometimes she needed to be in her head for a few minutes so she could get past the fear and get onto the battle ahead.

  She straightened in her chair as Spencer entered the room. His tuxedo jacket was missing. His white shirt and gold tie were covered in blood. His face looked battered, a golf-ball sized swelling around his right eye that was turning a dark shade of purple. His mother ran to him, giving him a long, tight hug.

  "I'm okay, Mom," he said.

  "You're hurt?"

  "It's not a big deal," he said, gently extricating himself from her embrace. He walked over to Emma. "I'm so
sorry."

  "It's not your fault," she said, getting up to give him a hug. "And from what I hear, you were quite the hero."

  "When will we know anything?"

  "The doctor said it could be a few hours. Can you tell me what happened, Spencer?"

  "Sure," he said, waving her back into her chair. Then he sat down next to her. "What do you want to know?"

  "Everything. Your mom said Max went to the bank to change some money?"

  "For your honeymoon. It was supposed to be a quick, ten-minute stop." Spencer shook his head, his lips tightening. "And then it all went to hell."

  "How did Max get shot?"

  "One of the bank employees went to hit the silent alarm on her computer. The gunman saw her and just as he pulled the trigger, Max dived in front of her. He was acting the hero—as usual. I told him not to, but does he ever listen to me?" he said gruffly.

  She heard the pain in Spencer's voice. He was covering up his fear with anger. "What happened next?"

  "I tried to stop the bleeding, but I didn't know what I was doing. Fortunately, there was a nurse in the bank, Hallie Cooper. She told me what to do."

  "Thank God. Was Max in a lot of pain? Was he talking?"

  Spencer hesitated.

  "What did he say?" she pressed.

  "He wanted me to tell you that he loved you, Emma."

  She put a hand to her mouth, tears welling up again. "He didn't think he was going to make it, did he?"

  "You were on his mind. You're always on his mind. My brother is crazy about you." He paused. "After that, he passed out. It was better that way. His body was resting. But then, towards the end, he started to get restless. I had trouble keeping pressure on the wound. Hallie and I realized that we were running out of time. The gunmen didn't know what to do. They were afraid they were going to get shot walking out the door."

  "So what did you do?" she asked, a shiver running down her spine as his words took her right into the bank, into the terrifying ordeal.

  "One of the men had left his gun on the desk by the phone when he went to look out the window. It was our chance to make a move. Hallie started screaming, telling the other guy that Max was dying. When he came close, she knocked the gun out of his hand. I picked up his gun and shot the other guy. It all happened really fast. Looking back, I wish we'd acted sooner. But we kept thinking it was going to be over in a minute."