Saints United [For Love of Authority 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Rhiannon Ayers

  Lyss nodded as the group hurried down a hallway and wheeled the patient into a waiting emergency surgery room. She hustled about, getting an IV bag ready, as the ER doctors started examining the patient. It wasn’t until she reached for the man’s arm that she noticed the birthmark on his forearm, a small, star-shaped patch of skin.

  Huh. A.J. has a birthmark like that.

  She looked up at the patient’s face—

  Oh, God. It was A.J. lying there, his upper body wrapped in bloody bandages, which were currently being cut away by one of the other nurses while the doctor shined a light in his eyes. She stood there, staring stupidly, while orders and demands flew around her head, going unheard past the roaring in her ears. A.J. was lying there. He’d been shot. What the hell happened to him?

  “What’s wrong with you?” Genevieve hissed, snatching the IV bag from Lyss’s limp fingers. “Have you lost your mind?”

  Lyss tried to swallow past a dry throat and whispered, “I know him. Oh, God, Gen…I know him.”

  “Then get out,” Genevieve said flatly. “If you can’t help, get out right now.”

  And she shoved Lyss back, trying to force her to step out of the small operating room. Lyss recovered herself, and grabbed the bag out of her superior’s hand, hooking it to the pole before grabbing A.J.’s arm to insert the IV needle. As the other nurses started working on A.J. feverishly, Lyss tried to black out her feelings, using the rushing in her ears as an excuse not to think about what was happening on that table. Machines in the room beeped and blipped, noises she once could have identified without a single thought. Now it just sounded like noise, confusing noise, none of it making a damn bit of sense.

  That was A.J. on the gurney. Her A.J.

  Finally, the ER doctor said, “He’s stable enough for surgery. Let’s go.”

  Several of the nurses took hold of the gurney’s rails and started wheeling it out of the room. Lyss tried to join them, but Genevieve held her back.

  “Not you,” the charge nurse said coldly. “I don’t know what happened back there, but obviously you’re too close to deal with this one, Lyss. Let us take care of him. You were almost ready to go off shift, anyway. Why don’t you wait in the lobby? I’ll come get you when we know something.”

  “But…”

  “No buts. I’ll come get you.” And she ran down the hallway after A.J.’s entourage, leaving Lyss standing in the empty ER room. She stood staring after them for all of a minute. Then she raced out of the room, out of the whole damn building, and pulled out her cell phone. Stopping to lean against a street light in the middle of the parking lot, she dialed Ryder’s number.

  “Lyss?” he answered in the middle of the first ring. “What’s going on?”

  “Get here now,” she whispered, tears making her voice desperate and weak. “A.J.…Ryder, he’s hurt. I don’t know what happened, but he’s hurt. Get here. I…We need you.”

  “We’re pulling into the parking lot, beautiful. See you in two seconds.”

  Lyss hung up, a sob escaping as she pelted back toward the ER entrance. Ryder and Shawn were just pulling into the emergency drop-off lane. The moment the passenger side door opened, she threw herself into her husband’s arms and started bawling like a little girl.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Ryder whispered against her hair.

  Lyss shook her head violently, gripping the back of his shirt in balled fists. “No, it isn’t. God, Ryder. You didn’t see him. There was so much blood…”

  “Do you know what happened?” Ryder asked, palming her head to hold her still against his shoulder.

  Lyss sucked in a sob. “No. He was shot. Somebody shot A.J., Ryder. Our A.J.” And she broke down again.

  Ryder patted her back while Lyss tried to regain control of herself, to no avail. She heard him tell Shawn, “Find out everything you can. Then get back to us. I’m going to take her inside. We’ll be in the waiting room.”

  Shawn must have agreed, because the cruiser started up and drove off, but Lyss couldn’t hear anything else over her own sobs. Ryder guided her back inside the ER, where they were immediately surrounded by concerned co-workers. Her husband fended them off when all Lyss could manage was a mangled “I-I-I’m oh-k-k-kay,” pushing his way through the nosy nurses until Genevieve intercepted them.

  “This way,” said the charge nurse, and she led them to the elevators, up to the surgical floor, and finally to the main waiting lobby. Ryder helped her into a chair, then sat beside her, one arm wrapped around her back.

  “Here, I brought some water,” Genevieve said, thrusting a cup into Lyss’s hands. Her next words were addressed toward Ryder. “What’s going on? This guy comes into the ER, and suddenly Lyss is freaking out. I’ve never seen her lose control. What is this Andre Johannes to you guys?”

  “Everything,” Lyss whispered, before Ryder could answer. “He’s everything.”

  And she laid her head back on Ryder’s shoulder and let the tears run.

  * * * *

  “Shit! Where’s the anesthetist? He’s starting to come around.”

  Come around what?

  “Looks like a through-and-through. Might be fragments, but no bullet. Internal bleeding.”

  Oh, well, that’s a good thing, right?

  “BP is dropping. IV push saline. And where’s the damn anesthetist? We can’t afford to have him come back up before surgery.”

  Wait, I thought I was coming around something…

  “BP still dropping. Heart rate slowing, Doctor.”

  “Where the hell is the…never mind, there you are. Get that IV set up. Come on, we’ve got to put him under.”

  Around, up, and now under? Make up your minds.

  “Ah, there he goes. BP rising. Heart rate good. He should be…”

  But the rest was lost as the blackness closed in again, taking A.J. with it.

  * * * *

  Ryder lost track of time somewhere between his third and fourth trip to the vending machines. Lyss had finally stopped sobbing, which helped him calm himself somewhat, but he still felt wound tighter than a shock-absorber spring. Hours must have passed, based on the number of people he’d seen come in and out of the waiting room. But since none of them were doctors or nurses coming to tell him and Lyss what was going on with A.J., he stopped trying to keep track of them. Now, he and Lyss sat side-by-side, holding hands and waiting in silence.

  Finally, Shawn found them. His partner looked like a ghost of himself, his dark ebony skin paler than Ryder had ever seen it. He pulled a coffee table over to where Ryder and Lyss sat and seated himself with a deep, mournful sigh.

  “What’d you find out?” Ryder asked.

  “Lots of things,” Shawn said, running a hand over his face and through his short black hair. “Still piecing together the details. Some we got from a neighbor who witnessed some of it. Some will have to wait until A.J.…” but he trailed off, his deep baritone voice wavering enough to scare Ryder to the bone.

  “Just tell us,” he whispered hoarsely. “What the…heck happened?”

  Shawn leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. “First, I need to ask you…” He cleared his throat. “Did you guys know…I mean, did A.J. ever tell you…that he was married? And that…he had a kid?”

  Ryder scowled. “Of course he told us. Why wouldn’t he? Get to the point.”

  Shawn looked up and met his eyes. “Calm down, man. I just wanted to know if you knew about them. I didn’t want to…” Another sigh. “Never mind. Look. This is what we know. This afternoon, a woman and a boy showed up at A.J.’s apartment. According to the neighbor, there was some serious yelling going on. The neighbor went and knocked on the door, to find out if A.J. was okay.”

  Shawn closed his eyes. “When A.J. answered the door, he was acting strangely. The neighbor said he pretended things were fine—speaking loudly, as if to trick someone inside—but then told him to call 911. When A.J. went back inside the apartment, the neighbor did call
the police. A few minutes later, the neighbor heard A.J.’s door open again. He walked outside to ask A.J. what was going on. And that’s when…that’s when…”

  “Just tell us,” Lyss whispered. She was gripping Ryder’s hand so hard, he knew he’d have bruises.

  Shawn nodded, looking down at his clasped hands. “That’s when…the neighbor saw the woman. And…she was holding a gun. Pointing it at A.J.”

  Ryder sucked in a breath. “So she shot…”

  But Shawn was shaking his head. “No, man. I wish it was that simple. But…it’s not. No, the neighbor said he saw the woman holding the gun, but then she closed the door and locked it, leaving A.J. and this neighbor standing on the stoop. The guy immediately asked A.J. what happened, and A.J. said it was his ex-wife. That she’d gone crazy.”

  “Oh my God,” Lyss whispered.

  Shawn nodded. “Yeah. But it gets worse. Right then, the cops arrived. The neighbor heard A.J. tell the First on Scene that his ex-wife had taken their son hostage, and that she had a gun and had lost her mind.”

  Lyss gasped as Ryder started to ask more questions, but Shawn just kept on speaking.

  “The cop told him to wait, that they would handle it. He called for SWAT. A.J. said he didn’t think they had time, but the officer insisted. That’s when…” Shawn heaved a deep sigh, his barrel chest expanding hugely. “That’s when they heard…the first shot.”

  “The first shot,” Ryder echoed. Oh, God…

  Shawn nodded. “A.J. tried to go back into the apartment then, but the FoS held him back. They were arguing…when the second shot rang out.”

  “Oh, God…” Lyss whispered, tears streaking down her face. Then she frowned. “But…you said A.J. was on the stoop. How could there be two shots, but he wasn’t hit?”

  “I’m getting to that,” Shawn said. He cleared his throat. “A.J. busted down the door. They found his ex-wife dead in the hallway. She’d blown her own brains out. A.J. rushed past the scene and made his way to a bedroom. The cop followed him. And that’s where they found…” Shawn closed his eyes and spoke in a strangled whisper. “That’s where they found the boy. A.J.’s son. The ex-wife shot the boy, then shot herself. He was declared dead at the scene.”

  Ryder felt hot, molten tears dripping down his cheeks. Oh, God. Poor A.J. To find his son dead like that, along with his ex-wife…and to know she was responsible for the boy’s death…Oh, God…

  “That’s when A.J. went berserk,” Shawn continued, his deep voice now hollow with pain. “They had to drag him out of the room where…where his son was found. He collapsed in the living room, and the officer thought he was just going to cry himself out. The officer left him there and went to go ask for a psychiatrist. That’s when A.J. scrambled across the floor…and took the gun out of his ex-wife’s hand. He was shaking, crying so hard he couldn’t see, but he tried to point it at himself. The officer realized it, but almost too late. He managed to hit A.J. just in time to spoil his aim. That’s the only reason A.J. didn’t commit suicide this afternoon. He tried. Damn near succeeded. But the officer managed to hit him just right, so the bullet hit his shoulder instead of his neck. Saved his life. At least, we hope so.”

  Oh, God. Oh, God. This was a nightmare. A living, breathing nightmare. A.J.’s son, dead at his wife’s hands. A.J. trying to kill himself because of it. Oh, God…

  “There’s something else,” Shawn grated. “Two things, actually. The ex-wife was found holding A.J.’s phone. Ryder…all of your texts to him have been logged into evidence. The department knows about your relationship.”

  Ryder nodded, numb. “Figured they’d know, one way or another.”

  Shawn took a deep breath. “That’s not the worst part, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, really?” Ryder said with a derisive snort. “What could be worse, Shawn? What could be worse than my lover’s ex-wife shooting their son before killing herself in his apartment, followed by my lover trying to kill himself? What could be worse than that?”

  Shawn waited until Ryder met his eyes, his gaze filled with pained sympathy. “Everything that happened…the hostage situation, the three gunshots…Ryder, all of it happened…using your gun.”

  Chapter 24

  Ryder’s hand went ice-cold in Lyss’s grip. She peeked at his face and found it white as a piece of chalk, and just as hard.

  “My gun,” Ryder whispered.

  Shawn nodded. “Obviously, they know you weren’t there. Weren’t part of…what happened. But since it was your gun in a civilian’s hands…well, they’re suspending your badge, Tex. Until the investigation is completed. IAB asked me to bring you in. I told them you were at the hospital, waiting for word. They said fine, it could wait until A.J. was out of danger. But you have to go in, man. You’re going to have to explain to them why your gun was used at a crime scene…and why you were in a relationship with A.J.” He glanced at Lyss as he said the last part.

  Lyss pursed her lips. “They think Ryder’s been cheating on me, don’t they? They think he was having an affair.”

  Shawn nodded reluctantly. “I told them it was bullshit. They said they needed to hear it from Ryder. Understand, most of these guys are straight-laced religious. They’ve never seen a triad relationship before. To them, there’s no way this could be…a good thing.”

  “But it wasn’t a good thing, was it?”

  Lyss gasped and looked toward the doorway. Austin Parker stood there, dressed in a disheveled gray suit, his tie all askew and his short blond hair clumped together as if he’d been pulling it. He was weaving back and forth, and there was murder in his eyes.

  Shawn sprang to his feet as Austin took several unsteady steps into the room and caught the man as he lunged toward Ryder. “I trusted you!” Austin yelled, pointing a condemning finger toward Ryder’s chest. “I trusted you with A.J., and now look what happens? I never should have told him you were here! I never should have trusted you with his heart!”

  “Calm down, man,” Shawn rumbled. “Dude, are you drunk?”

  “Damn right, I’m drunk,” Austin agreed, still glaring. “Been kicking ‘em back since I saw it on the news. After everything that happened before, I thought surely, you’d take better care of him. But I should have known better. I knew I never should have trusted you!”

  Ryder rose to his feet, bring Lyss with him. “What are you talking about, Austin?” Ryder said in a low, dangerous voice.

  Austin blinked at him. “He didn’t tell you?” The man laughed harshly, a sound filled with scratchy gravel. “Of course he didn’t tell you! That’s A.J., right? Take the blame on himself, never ever letting anyone else know when they’ve fucked something up.”

  “What are you saying?” Lyss cried.

  “That Ryder was the reason his marriage fell apart in the first place!”

  Cold, deadly silence.

  “Tell me what you’re talking about,” Ryder growled. “Right fucking now.”

  Austin hiccupped, leaning heavily on Shawn, as if he couldn’t keep his feet without the support. “He married her because she got pregnant. You know that, right? Okay, good, then this won’t come as a complete shock.” The last was said with a derisive roll of his eyes. “They stayed together because of the kid. Because of T-T-Tyler…”

  Lyss watched tears pour down Austin’s face and had a revelation—Austin knew Tyler. He’d known A.J.’s son. That’s why he was so heartbroken. She and Ryder were devastated, but only on A.J.’s behalf. They had no personal knowledge of the boy. Austin, though, had obviously met him. Known him. And he felt the boy’s death as a personal blow.

  “Austin…” Lyss started to interrupt.

  But he was on a drunken roll now, past hearing anything but his own voice. “Their marriage was miserable. Absolutely miserable. She loved him…and hated him. Tortured him for years. Then one night, she accused him of cheating on her.”

  “We know about that, Austin,” Ryder said, anger gone from his expression and voice.

  Austin laugh
ed harshly. “But did he tell you why she thought he was cheating? Did he give you the details?”

  Both Lyss and Ryder shook their heads.

  Austin laughed again. “It’s because he kept talking in his sleep. Did it for years. Talking in his sleep, saying the same thing over and over and over again. And she convinced herself that he wasn’t just dreaming, that he was reliving the real thing. So she called him out one night. Asked who it was he kept dreaming about. Asking why he kept shouting the same words over and over.”

  She didn’t want to know. God, she didn’t want to know. “What was he saying?” Lyss asked, hating herself.

  Austin gave her an accusatory look, then focused on Ryder. “She thought A.J. was cheating on her with another woman. Because he kept shouting the same thing every night. She thought he was saying ‘ride her, ride her.’”

  Ryder gasped, his face going even paler.

  Austin nodded gleefully. “You get it, don’t you? He wasn’t saying ‘ride her.’ He was saying your name. Ryder. He kept dreaming about you. Well, you can imagine her surprise when A.J. corrected her. Because that’s his way, right? He wouldn’t let her think he’d been dreaming about a woman. Oh, no. He had to tell her the truth. That the whole time they’d been married, he’d been dreaming about another man.”

  “God,” Ryder whispered.

  Austin cackled. “I know, right? Well, Marian flipped. She tossed him out. Asked for a divorce the very next day. And she told the judge to take custody away, based on the fact that her husband was a sexual deviant. She got the judgment, all right. Helps when the judge is a homophobic asshole.”

  Lyss exchanged looks with Ryder. Obviously, Austin didn’t know about the photos. He didn’t know that A.J.’s trips to the BDSM club had been what eventually convinced the judge to give Marian sole custody. Not that it mattered now.