After Detective Webb had told Fancy that Corey’s parents had been notified, she tried to call them, but her former father-in-law told her never to call them again and hung up on her. Apparently, they now blamed her for the deaths of both their sons, despite knowing as little as the rest of them. From what her Aunt Denise had learned, the Maguires were arranging for Corey’s body to be flown back to Ohio and buried next to Patrick in the plot that had been originally bought for her. If this had happened six months ago, Fancy would have been hurt, but now…she’d finally been able to let her husband go, and if it brought his grieving parents comfort, then that was fine with her.
At her bakery, her staff had taken over—God bless them. Jamie had suggested hiring her cousin to help out so Fancy could stay at the hospital. Fancy had met the other girl several times and had okayed her working at the shop. If she was a good fit, Fancy would consider keeping her on full-time, giving herself more free time to spend with Brody. If he…no, when he woke up, he would need her to help take care of him as he recovered.
Three o’clock rolled around and for the first time, Fancy was going into the ICU for visiting alone. Elise and Gerard had returned to the hotel for a bit to rest and would be back later, and Brett was on a phone call with his police department back home about a case he’d been working on. Harper, Marco, Angie, and Shelby would remain in the waiting room while Fancy went in for her fifteen-minute visit.
Several family members of other patients stood and walked into the unit behind her. Stepping into Brody’s cubicle, Fancy pulled the curtain closed to give herself a little privacy. Not much had changed in his appearance over the past two days. They’d been cleaning and treating the burn marks on his lower legs and feet. From what the doctor had said, he would have only minor scarring from the second-degree burns, but he might lose the small toe on one foot where a third-degree burn had formed.
The monitors still beeped, but the good news that morning was when they’d briefly turned off the ventilator, the respiratory staff found Brody was breathing on his own. With the doctor’s permission, they had removed the intubation tube. Now, he had a nasal cannula in place sending oxygen into his nose. The doctor had been surprised, yet pleased with his EKG and stable vital signs this morning. The only problem was he hadn’t woken up yet.
As Fancy pulled over the lone chair, the blood pressure cuff on his arm inflated again. On the bedside table was a silver package with moist applicators in it. They smelled like lemon, and she pulled one out and ran it over his lips to keep them hydrated as the nurses had instructed. Cupping his cheek, she stared at his pale but still handsome face. The stubble there tickled her palm. “H-hi. It’s me. I’m here, Sir. Waiting for you to wake up and show me your beautiful, brown eyes.”
The only times she called him Sir was when she was alone in the room with him. She didn’t know if his family knew about his lifestyle and it wasn’t her place to tip them off. Some people didn’t understand it, and Brody himself had told her his first impressions of the BDSM community had been one of abuse. It was as far from the truth as possible. She loved him, what he did to her, and how he took care of her. But this was a time she had to take care of him.
“Kristen was here earlier with JD. I just love holding him. I would love to have your babies someday, and, yes, I can still have them as far as I know. Before I met you, I never thought I would get pregnant again. I didn’t think I could go through another miscarriage and survive it. But you. . .you make me want to try, Sir. I would love to have a little boy with your dimples or a little girl with your eyes. . .maybe some of my freckles on her nose because I know how much you like them.”
Swallowing hard, she continued. “Mara is trying to take her first steps, but Marco is hoping she waits a few more days so her Uncle Brody can see her do it. Your family, all of them, love you. Come back to us, please. . .I love you so much and need you. Please, Sir.”
She still didn’t receive any response from him and wondered if she ever would. What if he never woke up? Fancy couldn’t stop the tears and sobs that spilled forth. She grabbed some tissues from the table and blew her nose. After wiping her eyes, she held his hand, stroked his hair, and just told him all the positive things that were going on around them. She babbled about anything she could think of that might get through to him, but at the end of her fifteen minutes, she once again kissed his forehead and left without any response from him.
* * *
Walking into the private room, Fancy put on a big smile when she saw the patient sitting up in bed. “Good morning, Russell. I’m so glad to see you’re awake. Boomer sent me a text last night to say they’d moved you out of the ICU. How are you feeling?”
Lowering the TV volume via the bed remote, Adams gingerly shifted in the bed. His voice was weak, and his skin was pale, but he grinned back at her. “Hi, Miss Fancy. I’m doing okay, sore, but okay. After giving me a few pints of blood and stitching me back together, the doctors think I’ll be okay. Once they let me wake up yesterday morning, they took out the breathing tube. How’s the senior chief?”
Placing one of the bags she’d grabbed from the bakery this morning on his bedside table, she sat in the chair next to him. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “He still hasn’t woken up, but the doctors are going to run some tests later to see if he responds.”
His eyes filled with regret. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save him—”
She grabbed his hand, cutting off the rest of whatever he was about to say. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about, Russell. If it weren't for you, it would have been too late, and he would never have had a chance. He’s still alive and fighting, so we just have to think positively.”
It was basically the same thing Brody’s mother had said to her. This wasn’t anyone’s fault except for Corey’s, and he’d paid for it with his life.
When Russell nodded in response, she said, “I brought you some goodies since I know how bad hospital food can be. I gave a box of cookies to the nurses from you, too, both here and in the SICU.”
“Thanks. They’re all really nice to me. I just hope I don’t have any flashbacks while I’m here and hurt someone.”
Fancy pointed toward the door. “Boomer made sure the nurses knew about your PTSD so there’s a sign on the wall next to your door that says to make noise and announce yourself when entering.”
A knock on the open door had them both looking up, and Ian walked in. “Good morning, Fancy. Adams, how are you feeling today?”
“Good, sir.”
Brody’s friend and boss had obviously been in to see the Navy veteran before this morning. He stopped next to the hospital bed and inhaled deeply. “Damn, are those pecan rolls I smell?”
“Yes, sir, I think they are,” Russell answered while grinning. “Fancy brought them for me.”
Chuckling, she pulled a smaller paper bag out of a larger plastic one and handed it to Ian. “You didn’t think I would forget you loved them, too, did you?”
He took the bag from her. “Thanks, you’re a doll. After this one, though, I’m going to have to start declining every once in a while if I want to get into my dress whites for the wedding.” She doubted that, because the man was in peak physical condition, just like the rest of his team. Turning back toward the injured man, he asked, “What are your plans when you get sprung from here?”
Adams shrugged. “I hadn’t really thought about it, sir. Why?”
“I’ve got a proposition for you.” Over his shoulder, Ian said in a raised voice, “Tori, come on in.”
A brown-haired woman Fancy had never met before rounded the door jamb and strode into the room. She was close to Fancy’s age and stood about five foot six. On a leash beside her was a beautiful Rottweiler. The large dog was wearing a yellow vest with the words “Service Dog in Training” on it. When the woman stopped a few feet from the bed, her canine companion immediately sat next to her, his stubby tail and butt wiggling with happiness.
Ian gestured to the man lying
in the bed. “Russell Adams, this is Tori Freyja. Tori, this is Russell, and Brody’s girlfriend Fancy Maguire. Tori is a friend of a friend, and in addition to running a rescue for Bullmastiffs, she trains other rescues to be service and assistance dogs for veterans, specifically those who have PTSD,” he explained to Russell. “If you’re willing, when you get out of here, she has a ranch just north of Tampa. You can stay there while training your own dog. She’ll teach you how, and it’ll take a few months. After that, we’ll sit down and discuss putting you to work and getting you a permanent place to stay. All the expenses for the dog are covered and then some. Tori’s Healing Heroes is a non-profit, so all you have to do is learn how to train your dog to help you when you need it. Oh, and you’ll be expected to help out around the ranch, which also has some therapy horses. The staff is experienced with veterans with PTSD so don’t worry about having any incidents there. Again, this is all up to you. You can decline if you want to.”
Fancy’s eyes had welled up as she watched Russell’s expression go from confusion to shock and then to awe that someone would do this for him. His gaze went back and forth between Ian, Fancy, and Tori several times in disbelief before it settled on the dog with its goofy face and tongue hanging out. “Is that. . .would he be my dog?”
Smiling and taking two steps forward, Tori patted the edge of the bed and said the word “place.” Going up on his hind legs, the dog set his front paws on the mattress, and Fancy swore he was grinning. Tori stroked his big head. “This is Jagger, and he’s about eighteen months old from what we can tell. We pulled him out of a crowded shelter where he was scheduled to be euthanized. He’s already started his basic training and will be ready to begin working with you when you’re released from the hospital. Hold out your hand, palm down, and let him sniff you. He’ll let you know when it’s okay to pet him.”
Russell did as he was told and Jagger sniffed his hand enthusiastically. He then thrust his muzzle into the palm, demanding to be petted, and his new owner complied. “Hey, Jagger,” he said while scratching the dog’s ears. Everyone laughed when the dog groaned in delight. “He’s awesome. I had a Rottie growing up.”
“Sounds like it was meant to be then,” Fancy told him as she stood, her voice thick with emotion at the lengths Brody’s extended family took care of their own. And it was clear Russell Adams was now a part of that family. “Visiting starts in ten minutes in the ICU, so I’m going to head up there. I’ll stop in to see you before I go home later, Russell.”
“Thanks, Fancy. I’ll say a few more prayers for the senior chief. When he wakes up, please have someone let me know. And thanks, Lieutenant Sawyer, for everything. I honestly don’t know what else to say.”
Ian held out his hand for the other man to shake. “It’s Ian. And you don’t have to say anything more. It’s the least I can do for your service and for helping us find Brody.”
* * *
After Gerard and Elise had come out from their brief visit with their son, Fancy and Brett went in. On the way to Brody’s cubicle, Fancy stopped at the nurses’ station in the middle of the unit and handed a large bakery box to Sheila, the head nurse. “This is for all of you for taking such good care of Brody. Thank you for all you do.”
The woman grinned. “Thanks for thinking of us. Whatever it is, it smells delicious.” An alarm sounded, and she checked the monitor in front of her. Leaving the box on the desk, she led the way into Brody’s cubicle, visibly not worried about anything. “One of his EKG leads came off. It happens after they’ve been on a few days. We rotate where they’re placed so it doesn’t irritate the skin too much.”
“How’s he doing today?” Brett asked.
Sheila checked the wires and patches on her patient’s chest and found the loose one. The alarm shut off when she adjusted the patch. “His vitals are all stable, and he was moving around a bit in his sleep last night according to the nurses. That’s a good sign.”
Fancy hoped so. She’d give anything for Brody to open his eyes and talk to her. Stepping forward, she grasped his hand and squeezed. “Hi. It’s me. Brett’s here, too.”
To her surprise, his hand squeezed hers in response. She gasped, uncertain if she imagined it. “B-Brody? Squeeze my hand again.”
Shelia and Brett’s eyes widened as they realized what she’d said. All of them stared at where the two hands were joined. Slowly but surely, Brody’s fingers closed around hers again. His mouth had opened seconds before his eyes did, and his tongue tried to moisten his dry lips. His sleep-filled gaze met Fancy’s, and in a soft, raspy voice, he said, “You smell like pecan rolls, sweetness.”
Bursting into tears of joy, she carefully leaned forward to kiss him. Neither of them noticed when Brett and Sheila left the room to tell the others Brody was awake and going to be okay.
Chapter 25
“You look beautiful, Angie,” Brody told the bride as her maid of honor, Kristen, gave a last second adjustment to the veil. He was in his dress whites, trying to ignore the phantom pain from the amputated small toe of his right foot. If that was all he’d lost after being electrocuted to death before being brought back to life, he’d take it. The alternative would have been much worse.
After being released from his ten-day stay at the hospital, the first thing he’d done was have Fancy drive him to the Healing Heroes Ranch. He’d wanted to thank Russell for his part in the rescue and to see how he was doing. The man had recovered from his stab wound and had found a niche for himself at the ranch with two other veterans staying there. Brody couldn’t get over the difference in the man. Russell’s eyes were full of hope and happiness with Jagger by his side, and Brody was glad the man now had a positive future.
As Kristen left the room at the back of the church to join the other bridesmaids, Brody scratched an itch on his chest. The portable cardiac monitor had come off yesterday, but where the patches had been still irritated him like crazy. The doctors had made him wear the device for a few weeks to make sure there weren’t any lasting issues from the trauma his heart had received. While everything seemed fine, he was banned from any overly strenuous activity until he had a stress test next week. Thankfully the doctors hadn’t put sex on the not-allowed list as long as there were no sexual acrobatics involved.
The worst part of the ordeal had been sitting down with Fancy, after being interviewed by the police, and telling her the details of why Corey had kidnapped and tried to kill him. As a Dom and her lover, he’d instinctively wanted to gloss things over and not reveal that Corey had been responsible for Patrick’s death and was behind the vandalism at her shop. But she deserved to know, and he couldn’t risk her finding out when someone from the press uncovered the truth. From what Detective Webb had told him, the Maguires were refusing to believe that their youngest son had killed his older brother. Grief would do that to people, and Brody wasn’t sure he would be any different if he were in their shoes. When the police had executed a search warrant on Corey’s apartment, they’d found evidence of the long-time obsession the man had with his sister-in-law. He’d been stalking her for years without her knowledge. His dating Nora had apparently been a ruse, and Brody felt sorry for the woman for having been used that way. He couldn’t imagine the shock and horror she’d gone through when Webb had interviewed her after Brody’s rescue. At least, the boyfriend she’d thought she had was never going to hurt anyone ever again.
Brody’s folks had returned to Texas with Brett with the promise that both Fancy and Brody would be at the hoedown in two weeks. When his mom and he had had some alone time in the hospital, she’d asked him when he was putting a ring on Fancy’s finger. He’d laughed knowing that was her not-so-subtle way of telling him she approved of her future daughter-in-law. After Fancy had finally returned to work on a daily basis, he’d run out and purchased her engagement ring along with a permanent collar. At Angie, Kat, and Kristen’s insistence, the collaring ceremony had taken place three nights ago at The Covenant, instead of waiting until after today’s wedding. The
ring he was holding onto for a little longer until he was certain she was ready for that next step.
As Brody escorted Angie to the vestibule at the back of the church where they would start their long walk down the aisle, a late arrival dressed in a custom-made, gray suit came rushing in the door. The man skidded to a halt when he saw them. Grinning broadly, US government spy T. Carter stepped toward the bride and brought her manicured hand to his lips for a kiss. “Don’t want to get yelled at for messing up your makeup, little one. You look stunning. I’m almost tempted to whisk you away for myself, but I know better than to piss in Boss-man’s cornflakes.”
Angie grinned at him. “I’m so glad you made it.”
“Wouldn’t miss this for the world. The ‘I’m never giving my heart to a woman’ big guy is going down in a grand and spectacular way.” He punched Brody lightly in the right shoulder. The spy had made a 3:00 a.m. covert visit to see him in the hospital before heading back to complete an assignment he’d been on. “Nice to see you up and walking on your remaining nine toes.” When Brody opened his mouth to call him the usual “jackass” to which the response would be “asshole,” Carter cut him off. “Ah, ah, ah…not in church, my friend. See you after the show.”
He hurried to take a seat as the bridesmaids started down the aisle to their music. When Angie and Brody were in position, she squeezed his arm. “You know I would have killed you if you missed walking me down the aisle. I swear, I was starting to think I was cursed.”
Hearing the nervousness in her tone, he smiled as he spotted Fancy sitting next to Kristen’s cousin, Will, in one of the pews near the front of the church. “You wouldn’t have had to kill me because that’s the only way I would have missed this honor. Consider your curse broken, Angie. Now, let’s get you down that aisle before Ian passes out or pops a blood vessel.”
Tickle His Fancy: Trident Security Book 6 (Trident Security Series) Page 22
