Almost To The Altar

by Neesa Hart

  The determination in Bill’s voice reached her, comforted her. “Where is he?” she asked.

  “Northwestern Memorial.”

  “I can be there in an hour.”

  “I don’t think you should drive,” he said. “Do you want me to send someone to pick you up?”

  She’d started to shake. “No. It’ll take too long. I have to get there.”

  “Elise,” he said, his voice stern, “don’t drive. You’re too upset.”

  He sounded so much like Nikki in that moment that she felt her insides start to crumble. “I won’t.”

  “Promise me.”

  She looked at Wil. “I—I have a ride. Don’t worry.”

  “He’s going to be in surgery for a while. There’s no need to rush.”

  “I understand.”

  “You’re sure you’re going to be all right?”

  “Yes.” Lord, no, she wasn’t going to be all right. She was going to fall to pieces any minute. “I’ll be there soon, Bill.”

  “All right. He’s going to make it,” Bill told her again. “Just keep remembering that.”

  “I will.”

  Elise all but threw the receiver into its cradle.

  Wil covered her hand with his. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  The tension of the previous hour gave way to the wave of horror that swept through her. Despite her anger, despite the way he’d hurt her, she needed Wil’s familiar presence. She couldn’t bear to face this alone.

  Like a beacon, the picture of her and Maks, the one in the cardboard box buried beneath the pile of sweaters and jackets in her cedar chest, flashed into her mind. With stricken eyes, she met Wil’s gaze. Dear God, she’d lost one brother—she couldn’t lose the other. “It’s Nikki,” she whispered. “He’s been shot.”

  Panic, wicked and alive, shot through him. He knew, knew, she was going out of her mind. She’d been there when Maks died. She couldn’t live through it again.

  He crushed her to him in a desperate embrace while selfrecriminations washed through him. He’d been so close, so damned close, to walking away from her again. Twice he’d let pride destroy him. If he’d left, he knew, she would never have called him, shared this with him. She needed someone, urgently. And he’d come within seconds of not being here for her. “Shh, baby, hush.” She began to sob against him. “Everything’s going to be all right. I’m here.”

  “He can’t die,” she sobbed. “He can’t.”

  “I know.” He fought a wave of panic as he cradled her to him. The scent of their recent passion still clung to her skin. Recriminations flooded him as he realized what he’d nearly done to her. “I know.”

  “I have to get there.”

  “We’re going.” He combed his fingers through her stillmussed hair. “I want you to go in your room and put on some clothes and shoes. Okay?” She didn’t loosen her grip. “Elsa?” Her shoulders continued to shake, so Wil picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

  He sat on the bed while she hurried into the bathroom to change. With his face buried in his hands, he sent up a quick prayer that Nikki would live. He wasn’t sure Elise could survive if she lost him. Surely this family had suffered more than their share.

  When she came out of the bathroom, he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring look. She’d pulled her hair into a loose ponytail that seemed to emphasize the redness of her tear-laden eyes. “Let’s go,” she told him.

  “Do you want anything. Coffee, some tea?”

  “No, I just want to get there.”

  Her cold fingers closed on his offered hand in a bruising

  grip.

  They were headed into the city before Wil coaxed her into speaking again. In a halting voice, she told him what Nikolai’s partner had told her. “That’s all I know,” she said. He heard the fresh surge of tears in her voice. With a stricken look that threatened to shatter his heart into a million pieces, she turned to him. “He’ has to be all right, Wil. He has to.”

  The car’s heater was turned so high that Wil felt the sweat running down his body, but he could hear Elise’s teeth chattering. He tightened his grip on her hand. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever happens, you’re going to make it.”

  “What if he dies?”

  “Don’t think about it,” he warned her. “If you start thinking about it, you’re going to drive yourself crazy.”

  Her fingers trembled in his. In the glow of the oncoming headlights, he saw her pale face, streaked with tears. Her lips trembled. “Aina.” He rubbed one knuckle against her cheek. “Listen to me. Nick’s tough. He’s going to be okay.”

  “You can’t promise me that.”

  No, he couldn’t, but he wanted to, wanted to do anything that would ease the look of stark terror that seemed to have permanently settled on her face. “He’s in God’s hands,” Wil told her. “Just hold on to that.”

  By the time they reached the hospital, Elise seemed to have fallen into a state of emotional exhaustion. He almost preferred her near hysterics to the unbearable si-!!lence, the look of tortured hurt in her eyes. They hadn’t spoken for the second half of the trip, and, except for the death grip she’d maintained on his hand, she appeared almost lifeless. He found a parking space outside the emer-!!gency room, then leaned across the car to press a gentle kiss to her trembling mouth. “Let’s go inside,” he told her. “We’ll see how he is.”

  Wordlessly she nodded.

  Wil guided her through the emergency room traffic until he found the information desk. He got the name of Nikolai’s surgeon and the floor number from the duty nurse. Elise made it to the elevator with him before she fell against his chest.

  “Wil.” His name was a breathless whisper.

  Gently he stroked her hair, supported her with his arms at her waist. “Shh… It’s going to be all right, Aina. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  God, he wished he had something else to say, anything to comfort her with. He’d stood with her once and watched a brother die. He wasn’t sure he could go through this again. He knew she couldn’t go through it. Her hands clutched at his shoulders. Her face pressed into his chest. She seemed to be trying to climb inside of him, be absorbed by him. He was powerless. And he hated it.

  They stepped off the elevator into the relative calm of the fourth floor. Compared to the emergency room, the place seemed deserted, lifeless. The antiseptic smell burned his nostrils. Like a mortuary, he thought, in grim realization that the drawn faces and huddled figures in the hallway were all there for the same reason. Each kept a watch between life and death.

  A burly man in rumpled clothes met them in the hallway. His graying hair was disheveled, his face slightly pale, but he had a comforting look in his hazel eyes. “Elise,” he said. “How are you doing?”

  Elise stepped from the circle of Wil’s arms to hug Bill Garrison. “Hi, Bill.”

  “How are you doing?” he asked again.

  Elise shook her head. “I’m all right,” she lied. “How’s Nikki?”

  “No news.” Bill stuck out his hand to Wil. “I’m Bill Garrison. Nick’s partner.”

  “Wil Larsen.” Bill’s handshake was firm, and oddly reassuring. Wil reached for Elise again, not yet ready to re-!!linquish contact with her. He needed her warmth just as he knew that she needed his. Pulling her against his side with a slight tug, he asked Bill, “Can you tell us anything more than what you told Elise on the phone?”

  Bill shook his head. “Not really. We were moving in on a warehouse. We’ve been working this case on interstate contraband for about six months now. Nick got a tip that a shipment was coming in tonight.”

  “A trap?” Wil asked.

  “Yeah. They were waiting for us. The minute we started approaching the building, they started shooting. Nick and I were on the back side.” Bill paused to clear his throat. “He was furious that we’d been set up. When he saw Steven Mitchell go down, he started screaming orders to pull back. All our guys had already taken refuge behind the ca
rs, but Steven was lying out there, exposed. Nick went after him.”

  Elise pressed her hands to her mouth. “Oh, God.”

  “We covered him as best we could, but they put three bullets in him. He took one in the thigh and two in the chest.” Bill shuddered, as if the memory were too much for him. “He managed to drag Steven to safety before he col-!!lapsed.”

  “How is he?” Wil asked.

  “Steve? He’s going to be all right. He was shot in the stomach. His surgery went okay. He’s got a young wife and two kids.”

  “Did you—?” Elise shivered. “The men, did you—?”

  “Yeah,” Bill said. “We got ‘em. After Nick went down, all hell broke loose. There were eight of them inside the warehouse. Two are dead, four wounded, and we got the other two trying to escape through the loading dock.”

  “I’m glad,” she said.

  “Yeah.” Bill’s eyes had taken on a bitter look. “Me too. I’ve never seen anything like what Nick did today, Elise. In twenty-seven years, I’ve never had a partner I admired as much as I do your brother.”

  “Thanks, Bill.”

  He accepted her statement with a solemn nod. “If you two want some coffee, my wife brought a couple of thermoses. They’re in the waiting room.”

  Wil glanced at the clock in the hall. “Any word on how long the surgery might take?”

  “No. This part is hell,” Bill told him. “You just pace and worry.” He gave Elise’s arm a slight squeeze. “Why don’t you go on in the waiting room and make yourself comfortable? It’s going to be a long night.”

  “All right.”

  “And, Elise?”

  She met Bill’s gaze. “Yes?”

  “He’s going to make it. I know he is.”

  “Thanks, Bill.”

  With a slight jerk of his head, he indicated the waiting room. “Go on in,” he said. “Your parents are waiting.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The floor dropped out of her world. Elise gave Wil á helpless look. “I can’t go in there.”

  His palm felt warm, reassuring, at the small of her back. “Aina, they need you now.” With the slightest of pressure, he guided her toward the waiting-room door. “They’re scared, too.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t go in there.”

  With a look so tender it stole her breath, he gathered her into his arms. “You’re the strongest woman I know,” he told her. “They need you. They’re afraid of losing another child, and they need you.”

  She drew several deep breaths, but nothing seemed to keep the panic at bay. “Go with me,” she whispered.

  “Anywhere.”

  Her gaze met his in the glare of the fluorescent lighting. For a moment, she allowed herself to believe that all would be well, that as long as she held on to Wil she could face the coming demons and escape whole. In his eyes she saw the tenderness, the warmth, she’d once craved from him. Drawing from his strength, she took his hand and walked toward the waiting room.

  Neither of her parents looked up when she entered the room. Her mother sat on the green vinyl couch, a Bible clutched in her wrinkled hands. Always a plump woman, Anna Krestyanov had a crown of silver curls framing a broad face. The usual ready smile that made her features so appealing was gone. In its place were lines of worry and fear. Her lips moved in a silent litany of prayer.

  Andrei faced out the window, his wide shoulders slightly hunched, his head tipped against the glass.

  The breath slowly drained from Elise’s body. A clawlike sensation began to relentlessly squeeze her chest until her heart ached from the pressure. She glanced from Anna to Andrei and back again. Her mother had begun a slow rocking motion. Behind her, Elise felt Wil’s hands settle on her shoulders, offering reassuring warmth. She had to try twice before she found her voice. “Mama?”

  With a startled gasp, Anna raised her head. A surge of tears wrinkled her face like a woolen blanket as she rushed forward to enfold Elise in a comforting embrace. “Elsa,” she whispered. She raised her plump hand to cradle Elise’s head. “My Elsa.” Gently rocking her back and forth, Anna began to cry.

  The impact of her mother’s embrace caused a shattering deep in Elise’s soul. Uncontrollable shudders swept through her as tears long suppressed rushed forth in a torrent. She sobbed against Anna’s shoulder, clinging to her like a small child.

  Feeling torn, slightly battered, Wil took his gaze from the heart-wrenching scene and sought Andrei’s figure across the room.

  He remained as he had been, facing the window. A stiffness had altered the curve of his shoulders. In the glass, Wil saw the reflection of his face. The expression made his blood run cold. Andrei’s features were impassive, except for his eyes. Even from his distance across the room, Wil could see the bleakness in his eyes. Slowly he made his way to the window.

  “Andrei,” he said, laying a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about Nikolai.”

  “Wilem.” Despite the brief acknowledgment, Andrei didn’t move.

  The soft sound of weeping was the only respite to the oppressive stillness of the room. Wil gave Elise and her mother an anxious glance, then turned to face Andrei once more. “She needs you, Andrei,” he said. “She’s lost one brother. She’s afraid of losing two.”

  Elise’s father didn’t answer. Wil fought back a surge of anger at the old man’s stubbornness. All he could think about was the pain he’d seen on Elise’s face when she told him about the quarrel with her father. He felt that pain as surely as if it were his own. He could only imagine what she’d gone through in the wake of his accusations. To make matters worse, Wil had turned on her, too. The thought made him feel slightly sick. And he lashed out at its cause. “Is it worth it?” he asked Andrei. “Has resenting her all this time made you happy? Is this what you wanted? You lost one son. You might lose another. Do you want to lose your daughter, too?”

  “She is not my daughter.”

  Rage exploded in him. “Damn it, Andrei, why are you doing this?”

  “She is not my daughter,” he repeated.

  “Pop?” Elise’s voice was soft, distraught. Wil turned in surprise to find her standing just behind them. He hadn’t realized she’d crossed the room. “Pop, please talk to me.”

  Andrei remained silent. Anna came to him, laid her hand on his arm. “Andrei,” she said. “Please.”

  Andrei pulled his arm away from his wife’s grasp. “I have nothing to say.”

  “Pop—” Elise’s voice broke on a sob. Wil no longer resisted the urge to hold her. From behind, he wrapped his arms around her waist, so that she could lean against him. “What do I have to say to you to make you listen to me?” she asked Andrei.

  “I don’t know you,” he said, still staring out the window. “There was a time when you didn’t want to know me. Now, I don’t know you.”

  “Andrei!” Anna’s voice had grown sharp. “It is time to end this.”

  Andrei raised his head. Wil saw him meet Elise’s gaze in the reflection. At the look in his eyes, Elise shrank back against Wil with a soft gasp. He tightened his hold on her. Andrei held her gaze for long seconds, then shook his head. “She is not my daughter,” he said. At the finality in his voice, Wil felt Elise’s body shudder. With a soft cry, she broke free of his embrace and fled the room.

  Wil struggled for control as he stared at Andrei’s back. Beside him, he heard Anna’s soft sobs. Fighting a desperate battle with the cloying anger and frustration that threatened to engulf him, he thought about how much he’d loved these people. Once, they’d been like family to him. The bitter realization that because of Andrei he’d driven Elise from him filled him with rage. His insides clenched into a tight ball. His hands fisted at his sides. He felt the quaking frustration tear at his gut, pound through his blood, until he tasted it on his tongue. “Why?” he finally managed to ask.

  Andrei turned on him like an animal caged. “I have told you why. She chose. I did not.”

  “No,” Wil said, his
voice lethaliy calm. “No, she did not choose. You both chose.” He narrowed his eyes on the hard face of the man he’d once loved like a father. “And you both chose wrong. At least she admits it.”

  Anger flared in the other man’s eyes. “She is not my daughter. You were Maks’s friend. You know what we suffered. My daughter would not have betrayed me, have be-!!trayed Maks.”

  Anna reached for his arm once more. “Andrei, no.”

  “Maks,” Wil said, unable to keep the scorn from his voice. “All of this because of Maks. He died, Andrei. It’s time you let him go. You’re punishing your whole family because you can’t let Maks go.”

  “Elsa made her choice,” Andrei said. “She is no longer my child.”

  “And you’re an old fool,” Wil told him. He gave Anna an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Anna.” Tears streamed down her face. His heart broke at the pleading look she gave him. “I’m sorry,” he said again, then strode from the room to find Elise.

  She leaned against the cool wall of the chapel. Why? Why had she let him do this to her again? For ten years she had struggled to find herself amid the ruins her father had created in her heart. For ten years she’d forced herself to see her value, to believe in her abilities, to believe he couldn’t hurt her again. In a few short sentences, he’d managed to crush her.

  Now, when she needed them, needed to be with the people who loved Nikki most, her father had deliberately and cruelly hurt her. She dropped her head into her hands with a sob. God, what would she do if she lost her brother, too? She’d have nothing, no one. Her whole life, she’d been afraid. Afraid of moving from New York. Afraid of her new school. Afraid of losing another person the way she’d lost Maks. Now those fears seemed to swamp her, overwhelm her.

  For years she’d managed to isolate herself from caring too deeply, loving too freely. But Wil had changed that. He’d opened her heart, found her secrets, shared her pain. Would he condemn her now, as he had before, because Andrei had turned on her? Would she be left without him, without Nikki, with no one?

  “Aina.” She heard Wil’s voice from the door of the chapel, but didn’t raise her head. At the soft endearment, she found a measure of strength. If he was going to reject her, he wouldn’t call her that wonderful name in that tender voice. “Aina.” He hunched down in front of her. “Look at me.”