NO END TO LOVE
a Love In Spring novel
by Roberta Capizzi
Copyright © 2017 Roberta Capizzi
All rights reserved.
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Edited by Serena Clarke - Free Bird Editing
Cover design by Najla Qamber Designs - All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, institutions, organizations, places and incidents in this novel, other than those clearly in the public domain, are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Table Of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Epilogue
Coming Soon
Other Books By Roberta
Acknowledgments
About The Author
Prologue
* * * 3 years earlier * * *
Seattle PD officer Adam Cavanagh sat on the floor of Union Bank in downtown Seattle, his right arm wrapped around his wife’s shoulders, while his left hand pressed down on the wound on her abdomen, hoping against all hope it would be enough to stop the bleeding until the paramedics arrived.
The sound of the two gunshots still rang in his ears, as warm blood seeped through his fingers and stained his dark blue uniform.
This wasn’t happening.
This couldn’t be happening.
The day had started just like any other since they’d moved back to Seattle from Spring Harbor, Oregon, as newlyweds three years ago. He’d gotten up at six, showered and had a quick breakfast, then put on his uniform. Just before heading out to work, he’d bent and kissed his beautiful wife. Hannah had opened her eyes, smiled, and wished him a good day.
Then he’d taken a step to the left and placed a soft kiss on Sophie, his six-month-old daughter, who was sleeping peacefully in her cot after keeping them up until past one in the morning. She’d been getting better though; now she only woke a couple of times throughout the night. Even though Hannah was confident that in a couple of months their little angel would let them sleep a whole night through, Adam thought she was indulging in some wishful thinking.
It was shortly before lunchtime when his partner and senior officer Xavier Mendosa drove past Union Bank. Adam had asked him to stop by for a minute so he could say hello to Hannah and see if she could manage to have a quick lunch break with him.
He hadn’t expected to walk in on a robbery. He hadn’t expected to step into the bank where Hannah worked and see a man holding a gun to her head. Another man stood beside her, wielding a knife and demanding she hurry up and shove the money inside a black bag.
He’d frozen with his hand on the glass door handle, completely forgetting his police training as feelings overwhelmed him. Things could’ve been different, if only he’d managed to keep his cool and not let his heart rule his actions—just like he’d been trained to do. But they didn’t teach you how to be detached when the person you’ve loved for all of your life has a .45 caliber pressed to their temple.
Without thinking, he’d pulled out his own handgun, aimed it at the man, and shouted, “Seattle PD, drop the weapon!”
The guy with the bag had freaked out and escaped through an emergency exit, triggering the alarm. The other man had whipped his head around, taking his eyes off Hannah. The sixty seconds that followed were the longest minute Adam would remember for the following weeks, months, and years. Everything felt like it was happening in slow motion. The man lifted his Glock, and Adam froze. He’d never shot anyone before. He’d never killed a man. He hesitated all of two seconds, and when two gunshots sounded in the room, he waited for the pain to engulf him—but it didn’t. It couldn’t, because the shots hadn’t reached him.
The man lay lifeless on the floor, with a hole in his chest right above his heart—courtesy of Mendosa, who’d come out of nowhere and had done what Adam hadn’t been strong enough to do. It was only then that Adam’s brain registered the images his eyes had witnessed a few seconds before: Hannah thwacking the man’s hand, the hand that held the pistol aimed at Adam. That had been the moment the first gunshot went off. The one that followed was the one Mendosa had fired.
Which meant...
Hannah crumpled to the floor before Adam could realize what had really happened, and his agonized shout rang in his own ears as he rushed toward her.
Now, as he sat cradling her, tears streaming down his cheeks, he wondered why he’d hesitated in the first place. Why hadn’t he just shot that man when he’d had the chance? Nobody would’ve blamed him for killing a criminal. Sure, he would’ve undergone an interrogation and investigation by the Internal Affairs Department, but he’d only have to tell the truth: the guy had aimed his weapon at him, and Adam had fired. Self-defense. No authority abuse or bureaucratic nonsense. His wife would’ve confirmed his version, and they would’ve dropped all charges.
He wouldn’t be sitting on the cold, tiled floor, listening to his wife’s ragged breathing, as she tried to tell him she was sorry for acting impulsively.
“I freaked out. I thought… he was going… to kill you…” she croaked, and squeezed her eyes shut in pain.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. Just stay calm, the ambulance will be here any minute now.”
Mendosa had called the station to inform them about the robbery and was now taking people’s statements. Sirens wailed in the distance, and Adam prayed the paramedics would get there in time to save his wife, whose body felt limp and heavy in his arms now.
“Hold on, baby. They’re almost here. Stay with me.”
Hannah tried to take a breath but the effort caused her to cough. He pressed his hand down harder on the wound.
“I couldn’t… lose you…” she said, in a small and barely audible voice between heavy breaths.
Adam’s heart broke, shattering into a thousand pieces, small shards he’d never be able to glue together again. She’d taken the bullet that would’ve hit him, and now she was slowly fading away in his arms, life oozing out of her body with every drop of blood that stained his uniform.
“You’ll be okay, ba
by. I’ve got you.” He bent down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, before resting his cheek next to hers. She was warm—unusually warm, considering she was the one who was always freezing, no matter the season. “I’ve got you.”
Seconds dragged, one after the other, each ticking instant pulling her away from him, like black fingers tugging at her white blouse sleeves, trying to snatch her out of Adam’s grip. Those same black fingers squeezed around his throat with each ragged breath his wife took.
Where is the ambulance?
“Love Sophie… for both of us…” Hannah said, choking on the last two words. A fit of coughing shook her body, and when she inhaled the effort made her squeeze her eyes closed in pain again.
He sat up straighter, giving her space to breathe, and she looked up at him through slightly dazed eyes. Her beautiful, clear blue eyes that always held a sparkle of liveliness and excitement for life, that always oozed love when she stared at him, now looked dull.
“Stay with me, please Hannah. I can’t do this alone.”
As the corners of her lips twitched weakly in an attempt to smile, the memory of the way her beautiful smiles always lit up her face, squeezed his heart. He couldn’t bear to never see his loving wife smile at him again.
“Promise...” She coughed again and her body shook so hard, he thought she was convulsing. Then she lifted a shaky hand to his face, and her eyes glazed over, trying to focus. “You’ll love again.”
The touch of her cold palm against his cheek sent shivers skittering along his spine. She was leaving him. The paramedics would never get here in time.
He shook his head. “I could never love another woman the way I love you. I don’t have enough love left in me for anyone but Sophie and you.”
“This can’t be… the end… for you, too…”
Her breathing became more ragged and he asked her to be quiet, to save her breath for when the paramedics arrived. It was just like her to put other people’s happiness, his happiness first. She’d done it all of her life, and even in her last minutes, all she wanted was to make sure he’d love again. As if that were ever likely to happen.
She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and when she opened them again, they were sparkling with tears. “Believe… there is no end… to love… Starsky.”
He smiled at the nickname she’d given him since he’d graduated from the police academy. She’d always loved using it as a term of endearment, rather than the usual sweetheart or baby.
“I promise I’ll try, baby.” He gave her a sad smile, but it was the best he could muster. There was no point in telling her she’d be okay and he’d love her until they were old and gray. They both knew these were their last few minutes together. The least he could do was reassure her he’d be fine, even though he knew it was just a big, fat lie.
Hannah nodded lightly, and her lips moved as if she wanted to smile back but the effort was just too much. She closed her eyes and took one long, uneven breath.
“I love you, Hannah. I will always love you. You’re the love of my life,” he whispered against her ear. Then he blew her soft blond curls away from her pale face. He’d always loved tucking the golden locks behind her ears, whenever she complained about her crazy curls. He’d follow the gesture with a kiss on her cheek or, just like now, blow them away from her face, and she’d laugh and kiss him. She didn’t laugh this time, though.
She inhaled deeply and coughed, then her eyes fluttered open. Her lips moved but no sound came out. He focused on her mouth and could only make out the words, “I love you, forever” before she let out a sigh and closed her eyes.
Then her body went limp in his arms, and his life ended right there with hers.
Chapter One
The sheets were tangled at the foot of the bed: the usual, tangible proof of his restless sleep. It was a good thing Adam had the whole bed to himself, or he’d risk kicking the other person off the mattress.
It had been a while since he’d woken up soaked in sweat in the middle of the night, after reliving those seemingly endless minutes when he lost the love of his life forever. He’d even started believing that being back in Spring Harbor and living in his childhood home had been working miracles on his mind.
Until yesterday, when Xavier Mendosa had called to inform him that they might have a lead on the man who’d gotten away.
The day he’d buried Hannah, Adam had promised himself he was going to find the man if it was the last thing he did. He’d left the department immediately after the shooting, but that hadn’t stopped him from obsessing over the guy, until his captain at Seattle PD had asked him to step back and let them deal with the investigation. He obviously hadn’t listened to his former boss, especially since he no longer worked for the department. He’d spent months after he left getting updates from his former partner, working on the investigation vicariously through him, until too many sleepless nights and skipped meals had brought him to his knees, and his parents had convinced him to let it go. Obsessing over the one who’d escaped wouldn’t bring Hannah back. He was only wasting energy over something that couldn’t be changed, energy he should be using to raise his baby girl. Three days of forced stay in bed had convinced him it was time to let go of the horror of that day and concentrate on the most precious thing that had come out of his short marriage.
But Mendosa’s call yesterday morning had brought him back to the start, and the dreams had started again.
One of the guys from the drug department had informed Xavier that they were keeping an eye on a couple of men who’d been seen dealing drugs outside the university campus. Mendosa had recognized the man in the photographs as the robber who’d escaped that day and had promptly informed Adam.
If it hadn’t been for the knowledge that Sophie needed him, Adam would’ve gotten in the car and driven up to Seattle to find the man and beat the life out of him. The guy had moved on with his life as if nothing had happened, making money selling drugs to students, while Adam had been on the verge of a nervous breakdown more often than not.
The first few weeks after Hannah died, he’d thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep until the man was securely locked in a six by eight cell where he’d spend the rest of his life. He may not have been the one who’d pulled the trigger, but he’d been there, he’d had a knife in his hand, and he probably wouldn’t have thought twice about hurting Hannah if she’d refused to give him the money.
He’d have to be processed as an accessory to murder and get the longest sentence. With a degree in criminal justice, Adam knew what the man deserved for what he’d done—and would’ve been more than happy to testify in court, if only they could get their hands on him.
I failed, both as a husband and as a cop.
Now the thoughts that had haunted him immediately after the robbery, until his family had shaken some sense into him again, came back in full force. His throat constricted, and he shook his head, refusing to let them pull him under again.
He’d thought he was starting to recover, that maybe the pain and guilt were finally fading away, but tonight his certainties and hopes for a brighter tomorrow had come crashing down, when he’d once again relived the awful circumstances of his wife’s death. Only, tonight it hadn’t been about the shooting, the blood, and the weight of Hannah’s limp body in his arms, like the other times. It hadn’t been about the guilt of not being able to find the other man who’d been involved in the robbery and make sure that at least one of them paid for what they’d done.
No. Tonight had been all about what Hannah had said to him, in those last few minutes. With what was left of her breath, she’d made sure he listened to her, that he promised to let another woman into his heart, a woman who’d love Sophie like she would have if that robber hadn’t taken her life.
He had no intention of ever keeping the promise he’d made to his dying wife, though. No matter what anyone said, he would never in a million years love another woman the way he’d loved Hannah. She’d been his one and only, ever since
he became interested in the opposite sex. He’d imagined creating a big family with her, even though she used to say she wouldn’t want more than two children, while he insisted he wanted at least four or five. He’d dreamed of growing old with her, maybe coming back to Spring and having his brother Kean build their dream house somewhere close to the beach. He’d imagined sitting on a swing on their back porch, holding Hannah in his arms and feeling the familiar warmth of her body pressed to his, while watching their grandchildren play in the garden.
He’d never have any of this.
The thought of all he’d lost, of all he’d never be able to experience, was like a knife twisting through his heart. Every. Single. Time.
Wiping away a stray tear, he got out of bed, scrubbed a hand across his face, and listened closely to the baby monitor on his nightstand. He didn’t hear any unusual noises, but the sudden need to see his daughter and remind himself why he couldn’t let the nightmare break him down again pulled him out of the door of what used to be his and Kean’s room back in the day.
He padded barefoot to the room on the opposite side of the narrow corridor. The carpet was rough under his feet, reminding him of all the times he and his brothers had run in bare feet all along the corridor, up and down the stairs, and in and out of the rooms, playing cop and thieves, or a game of tag. It was high time his parents removed the carpet and replaced it with wooden flooring instead. Kean would be only too happy to work on that, and Adam would be glad to help. Anything that kept his mind busy was welcome these days.
The room was dark and only a beam of moonlight peeped through the teddy-bear-patterned curtains his mother had bought especially for her only granddaughter. He stopped close to the crib he’d built with his own hands a few weeks after moving home from Seattle, when his brother Kean had brought home some fine cherry wood planks and insisted Adam make something out of them. His brother had always appreciated Adam’s skills in building stuff and had encouraged him more than once to partner with him and build or restore furniture for the houses Kean renovated—especially now that he didn’t have a job.
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