My pulse spiked. That’s the last thing you should tell someone if you don’t want them to freak. “Right—that works. What the hell?”
“Rose is at the hospital. I rode over with her and didn’t want to panic you until I had all the details. She was shot—right shoulder—”
I didn’t wait for the rest, hanging up the phone as soon as I heard the front door open. I said a silent thank you to perfect timing, which was for once working in my favor.
“How—” Katie began until she saw my face. “What happened?”
“Jack’s asleep. I have to run.”
I drove straight to the hospital and sprinted toward the information desk, but Trent caught me before I could make it.
“She’s fine.”
“Then, I want to see her.”
“She’s in surgery.” His hands tightened on my shirt—sure not to let me slip away.
“That’s not fine.” I ground my teeth together.
“Went through the muscle. It looked clean so I don’t think it hit any bone. They’re debriding the wound and closing her up. She was a little shocky, but probably more from pain and the situation than anything else.”
I didn’t want to hear that. Shock. Pain. All more than she ever deserved. I ran my hand through my hair, pushing and pulling it in every direction. “Who? Why wasn’t anyone protecting her?”
“You know we couldn’t justify it after we brought in the trio who had been watching her.” He paused, longer than humanly necessary to compose a sentence—even though it was probably only a fraction of a second. “She said it was Alley.”
That was impossible. All of the oxygen drained from my system. I couldn’t imagine Alley wielding a gun—let alone shooting Rose. How did she even find Rose? It raised a million more questions that I didn’t have time to think about.
I collapsed against the wall just as a doctor came around the corner.
“Detective Davis?”
I snapped back to attention as the doctor looked between us, confused for a second.
“Officer Carter,” Trent said, pointing in my direction.
The doctor nodded. “She’s doing well. She’s awake now and in recovery, but it’ll be a while before you can question her since she’s still feeling the effects of the anesthesia. She was lucky—there was minimal tissue and muscle damage. She should be fine to go home day after tomorrow, but she’s going to be uncomfortable for a while, and she’ll need therapy as the muscle begins to heal.”
Lucky. That was becoming the story of my life. I was going to have to get it engraved on my tombstone.
But it wasn’t lucky. I’d already let her get hurt—so many times had I let her get hurt when all I wanted to do was protect her. Just like the day I’d left the compound for a meeting—my only opening at getting her out before the raid.
I had the meeting all set up and plans to pin her disappearance on Gabe—it would have been fucking perfect to watch him go down for it.
But then I got the call from Miles.
A single attempt at making everything right turned everything into an even worse shit storm. I was only a few minutes away from the compound, but by the time I got back and we tracked her down, they’d already stolen her body, drugged her mind, and polluted her soul with a darkness I could never erase. In an instant, we pulled Gabe off of her, and Miles dragged the bastard into the corner of the room.
In one afternoon, I thought my smart ass fighter had become a broken mess. I lifted her naked form off the bed—tucking her against my chest was the only comfort I could offer at the moment.
I was lost inside my own regret, details blurred with the train wreck of thoughts exploding in my head. Before I knew what she was doing, she reached for my gun. I realized that without thinking, I had left it on the bed. I shouted and reached to stop her, but it was too late. Even in her drugged and dazed condition, the bullet made a beeline for Gabe’s head.
Perfect shot.
I pulled the gun from her hands, but her expression was vacant. What other secrets did my girl have to hide?
Miles met my gaze—his eyes as wide with shock as I imagined my own were. She had taken a life because I couldn’t get her out. The darkness could drive people to do crazy things.
“Why’d Alley do it?” I asked.
“Rose wasn’t exactly... talkative. But I wouldn’t worry about her too much, her stubborn attitude puts you to shame.”
I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to escape the all-consuming white noise.
Rose was asleep again by the time the doctor let us in to see her. At the sight of her laying in the bed, my heart lodged in my throat, leaving me light-headed and off balance. Trent stayed for a few minutes before slipping out to do the detective thing. This time, I had no problem taking advantage of some time off. My desire to find out why and how this happened decimated by my refusal to leave.
Hours passed as she faded in and out of consciousness, mostly from the pain medicine and the lingering effects of the anesthesia. She’d always been a lightweight when it came to pain medicine—nearly the only thing I ever saw that keep her down for long. But her experiences with it were far from restful—I’d also seen it send her into delusions and condemn her to hellish nightmares.
I leaned against the side of the bed, yearning to touch her. But no matter the strength of the magnetic force she had over me, I resisted. Even with a small brush of skin, I felt like I’d be taking advantage of her unconscious body.
“Am I high?” her quiet voice rose from the bed.
“Probably.” I remembered the last time I’d watched her suffer through both pain and the effects of morphine after Gabe had attacked her. I wanted to bleach the memory out of my mind and out of her life.
“Good,” she whispered. “Getting shot sucks.”
That was one thing she didn’t have to tell me. I was only glad that she was awake, and the wound—although painful, probably wouldn’t have the same recovery time as mine. Even though hers might be more rehab intensive since the damaged muscle would need to regain a wider range of motion.
“Are you real?” she asked flexing her hand.
Her fingers were cold as I laced mine around her and squeezed her hand. “Do I feel real?”
“As soon as my arm is healed I’m going to punch you, then decide.”
I deserved it—in fact, I almost looked forward to it. I missed the stubborn belligerent girl whom I’d struggled to best on more than a few occasions.
She slipped back into a quiet sleep, but woke every so often through the night and into the next morning, until her eyes popped open, like we’d never stopped talking, and she uttered the question I dreaded answering.
“Where have you been?”
“Around. I wanted to—” I had no idea how to explain. How to put into words how much I wanted to see her, but how much more I feared that desire would only serve to screw her up more. “My psychologist and my supervisor warned me to stay away from you. They said you’d heal better if I kept my distance. I wanted to see you, but I wanted them to be right. I wanted... I wanted you to be able to go back to normal.”
“There is no normal.”
Normal was the very thing I’d spent few weeks chasing. Maybe our normal wasn’t like everyone elses’, but I was convinced it existed somewhere. I had to hope for it—for something that at least felt right, because at that moment, everything in my life seemed sideways and mismatched.
After another long nap, she finally seemed to be opening up, and my heart thudded a tune of hope when she asked me to hold her hand. But then, I made the lethal mistake of nearly calling her Silver.
Her eyes flashed and she straightened beneath the sheets. “You should have talked to me. Given me a choice. Said goodbye. Something. I deserved something.”
I couldn’t argue. Everything I’d done was a useless attempt at protecting her—the last an attempt at protecting her from myself. And I wasn’t sure that she didn’t still need that protection. “I’m sorry. I
didn’t even trust myself to make the right decision.”
“But you still decided to make a decision without me. I didn’t expect to come back and have everything be fine, but suddenly, I was just on my own.”
I dropped my gaze. The touch of her smooth skin against my fingers was almost enough to make me feel alive again—almost. I couldn’t take the back and forth. The push and pull of acceptance and outright rejection.
I begged for one little thing—a miniscule clue that something I had done over the past two months had been the right thing. But if I couldn’t even convince myself of that, I didn’t see the point in arguing with her.
Watching her sleep and being near her was the only respite I had, so I stayed through the fits and starts. I refused to move, knowing the moment she woke up she might be the one to kick me out.
I could at least give her that privilege if she wanted it.
Trent came in and sat with me Saturday morning, giving me a brief update on the investigation. He also brought food and coffee, but I left most of it untouched, and he eventually left me to my silence as he sipped a cup of coffee and scrolled through messages and reports on his phone.
Around mid-morning, she woke in a panic. Yelling and batting her arms at some invisible enemy. Nurses rushed in, but the more people tried to help, the harder she fought.
“Stop touching me,” she yelled.
“You’re bleeding,” Trent said as she finally settled.
One nurse shoved her way through—a persnickety expression on her face as if Rose was purposefully being a difficult patient. “You probably pulled a stitch with all of that—”
I growled in warning, and the nurse’s eyes darted to me, and her mouth snapped shut.
It didn’t stop her from running her mouth while she checked under the bandage though. Uttering assurances that Rose had been lucky that she hadn’t ripped the stitches out.
Rose took it all with a straight expression until the nurse mentioned pain meds.
“Can I get something else?” she asked. When the nurse objected, Rose continued to explain. “I don’t like feeling so foggy when I’m awake.”
The nurse promised to check on the prescription, but gave us all a scowl as she left. At least Rose was fighting with someone other than me.
I needed to do something, but I felt fated to continue watching from the stands. A spectator who wasn’t supposed to have any say in her life. I hated the way she looked at Trent, trusting in him while being pissed at me.
I was all over the place, but the moment that Trent stepped out, and I tried to make amends. I slipped up again. “Silver....” I began before I could recall the word.
Her eyes shot open. “You’re going to have to break that habit. Kirk and Silver are gone—”
“They have been for a long time, Sugar.” I had no idea why I called her that again either. It had begun as a taunt. A wedge to force some measure of distance between us, but her face softened when I said it.
“You—you’re the one that requested this stupid protective detail, aren’t you? Does that mean you’re planning on leaving me alone?”
I focused on only the first part since it was the most straightforward to answer. “She found you and came into your house to attack you, but it was Trent who ordered it.”
“You avoided the second question. Maybe the doctors were right.” Her eyes glazed over. “You’re the only person I feel connected to. I held on to that for the last four weeks. I couldn’t move on, but even with you here. I—”
It was like listening to a tape recorder of my own thoughts.
“I don’t think I can do this either.”
I stood. I’d been expecting it, but I didn’t expect it to feel like my lungs were collapsing. I wished my damn mind and body would decide what they wanted. And maybe, possibly, act in unison, just once.
“This time I get to make the call,” she continued. “James and Rose don’t even know each other.”
I heard footsteps in the hallway and breathed a silent thank you when I saw that it was Trent coming through the door. “Make sure she’s safe.”
With nothing left at the hospital, I went for a drive. I needed to escape. To shut down the memories and thoughts. I hit the gym and took out my aggression on a punching bag and a long run around the track until my body couldn’t take it anymore. Then, I went home taking every small detour to waste as much time as possible and stall my arrival. When I finally pulled up the drive, the SUV was gone. The house was locked, too, with a note inside the door that said they were with Katie’s parents. I threw together a sandwich and took a shower, pulling on a fresh pair of clothes and headed back out again—desperate to keep moving.
My final stop for the evening was a bar downtown. I flattened my hair before climbing out of the car. The last thing I needed was someone recognizing me and calling Trent—my ever ready guard dog—before I had a full opportunity to get shit faced.
Inside, I spotted an opening near the end of the bar and went straight up to sit down, ordering the tallest beer possible as soon as the bartender was in earshot.
I gulped down the entire thirty-two ounces, then ordered a string of double bourbons until I could barely recognize the text on my phone. I opened the messenger and slid off my barstool, leaving a pile of bills.
“Hey buddy,” the bartender said. “You’re not driving.”
“No kidding.” I waved the phone, grabbing the back of a nearby booth for support as the room swayed.
“Maybe you should wait in here for your ride.”
And now I was being controlled by some stranger in a bar. I shrugged and dropped into an empty booth. I didn’t really feel like making the effort to walk anyway. I typed in a message that I thought was slightly legible and sent it to Evan.
Then I rechecked, hoping I had really sent it to Evan.
I plopped my legs up on the bench and laid my head against the wall, closing my eyes to the music and chatter.
Someone shoved my foot off the bench and I jumped, prepared for a fight. But I saw a slender blonde standing at the edge of the table.
Not the brunette I preferred, but at least Katie could get me home in once piece.
“What’re you doin’ here?” I asked.
“Picking you up apparently. Evan was up late last night, so he and Jack are at home asleep. I stayed up to wait on you.”
I fought my way out of the booth and she propped my arm over her shoulder keeping me on track as we headed for the door and through the parking lot to her SUV.
I hauled myself into the passenger seat and fastened the belt as everything around me began a new blurry dance.
Katie slid behind the wheel and sighed, twisting her hair tucking it behind her ear before she fastened her own belt.
“You’re pissed?” I asked.
“Not pissed. Just concerned. But Trent warned you’d be a little difficult.”
“Was this a new warning?” I spoke as clearly as possible and assumed that it was halfway understandable.
“Not really, but he said it’d probably be worse.”
A warm hand touched my forearm, and I opened my eyes—I hadn’t even remembered closing them, but we were now sitting outside of her house. “That was fast.”
“How much did you drink?”
“No clue.”
She squeezed my arm. “Give her time.”
“Trent told you the details.” I wanted to be surprised—at least pissed—that everyone continued discussing my life, but I’d finally hit numb.
“He told me enough. She was shot, hun. She’s pissed and in pain and she doesn’t know who she hates right now.”
“She was right to send me away.”
“Why is that?”
“I’ll break her. The darkness won’t leave us alone, especially if we’re together.”
“You’re drunk and melodramatic. Let’s get you to bed.”
“It’s true, Kate. I hurt her. I’ll do it again. I want to do it again, to drag her inside with
me so I’m not alone anymore.”
The light was blinding when she opened the door and I covered my eyes. Her door closed and seconds later mine opened.
So much for a temporary respite.
“Come on, hun.” She pulled me out and helped me balance when my shaky legs hit pavement. “I can tell you this. You’re not alone, and you shouldn’t underestimate her.”
I crashed into a table as we came through the front door and an upstairs light came on. A few seconds later Evan peeked over the banister and jogged quietly down the stairs. “How much have you drunk?”
I was too busy grasping the railing and holding myself up to answer.
“He doesn’t remember,” Katie said.
Evan grabbed my arm and I swayed toward him.
“You remember that time—” I started
“No, James. No drunken reminiscing in front of my wife.”
Katie groaned and flicked the back of his head. “As if I haven’t heard it all. I’m going up to bed. Don’t kill each other getting up the stairs.”
Evan may as well have been pulling me up a mountain, my feet were barely coordinated enough to hit the stairs—not that I could really tell where they were or judge distance.
He unceremoniously dumped me into bed and closed the door, leaving me to the darkness again.
Chapter 10
Reunion
If I thought the first week being home had been hard, it was nothing compared to the next day.
The worst thing about being drunk—aside from being stuck in your own head until you pass out and then tossing and turning all night, is that when it comes to an end, your entire body reminds you that it was a bad idea.
I downed two glasses of water before I even felt like I could hold my head up.
“How long has it been since you’ve drunk that much?” Katie’s whispered voice pounded through my head like the bass at a heavy metal concert.
I didn’t answer, just buried my face in my hands. I didn’t care about feigning macho toughness and pretending my head wasn’t about to explode and implode at the same time.
She laid a couple of Aspirin on the table in front of me and refilled my glass of water, then quietly took the seat in front of me while I forced myself to swallow the pills and lift the glass to my lips again. Even after all the fluids my tongue still felt fuzzy. I knew I wasn’t twenty-one anymore, but even then, aside from celebrating after a big test, I’d never been a big drinker.
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