“Back away, ma’am. Let us do our job.”
“I can’t let go. He’ll bleed to death.”
“Ma’am, we’ve got this.” A big paramedic grips me around the biceps and physically pulls me off. “We’ve got him. Let us help him.” He sets me aside and goes to work. The scene as they work on him floats through my conscious mind as if in a dream.
Finally, they are on the move, and I follow them to the ambulance, blood coating my pajamas, arms, and hands.
“Kat…” Carson says, broken. “Baby…”
“I’ve got to go with them,” I say, swiftly slipping into my flip flops at the door as they maneuver through the entry.
“Sorry, ma’am. Against protocol for a GSW. You’ll have to meet us at the hospital.” The paramedic jumps into the back of the ambulance and slams the door so fast a gust of air hits me.
Carson puts a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “The cops need your statement, and you need to change before we go to the hospital,” he says while looking down at my blood-soaked clothes.
That’s when I start to shake. A small tremble in each limb turns into a full-body shudder. My stomach twist and turns until vomit roars up my throat. I rush to the nearest bush and empty the contents in several body-racking heaves. A female cop holds my hair back and soothes a hand down my back as Carson stands helplessly to the side, calling out kind words while holding Cora tight.
This is pathetic! I lock my fear and anguish down. I need to be present for Chase. He saved my life, my baby’s life. I owe him everything. I’ll keep it together until I know he’s going to live. I wipe away the tears and the moisture coating my mouth and vow not to lose it again. I’ll be strong for him, for all of them.
That’s when I start to pray.
* * *
The only sound in the room is the ticking of the clock, a low murmur from outside in the hospital corridor, and my sniffles. I grip his hand as tight as I can with my gnarled one, but he doesn’t so much as flinch. He always comments on how the strength in my hand is getting better, patting the top of it while gifting me with a tiny curl of his lips. Right now, nothing. Just me and him. I’m not sure where Gigi ran off to. I expect she’s resting, since they finally kicked her seven-month-pregnant ass out. After four nights of touch and go, she and the baby need it. Hell, we all do.
Only, I can’t sleep.
Every time I close my eyes, I see Chase falling to his knees, blood pooling red on his stark-white dress shirt, his eyes widening and his lips firming while one of his arms comes up, the track lighting glinting off the gun. One shot, then two, right into Misty’s chest. Then he falls back, his mouth opening in a silent scream, but nothing comes out.
Then I wake up. Every night. I slip out of Carson’s warm arms—we’re sleeping in the guest room for now—being as quiet as possible. I change into yoga pants and a sweatshirt and come here. To the hospital. I need to make sure Chase is alive. That he’s still breathing.
When he breathes, I breathe. Usually it’s just me watching through the blinds outside of his ICU room as Gillian and Chase sleep. Tonight though, she’s gone. So I’ve slipped in to sit by his side.
It’s weird to see him unmoving. Completely still. On an average day, Chase is such a large presence. When he enters a room, everyone notices. His magnetism is that strong. People watch him. Women devour him with their eyes. Men are either scared of him or revere him. Not now. Now he’s lying silently, sleeping, his abdomen wrapped heavily with gauze and his chest bare. I watch him breathe. Every time his chest lifts, mine does as well. With each inhalation, a piece of me settles, relaxes, allowing me to survive another day.
A warm hand curls around the cap of my shoulder. “Hey, honey, it’s late. Three in the morning. What are you doing here?” Gigi whispers, even though Chase hasn’t woken up yet. They have him on a respirator and under heavy sedation so he doesn’t feel the excruciating pain a gunshot wound to the gut entails. She pulls a chair directly next to mine and sits in it, facing me. She grabs my other hand and holds it in both of hers.
I suck in a breath, and for the first time since it happened, my eyes fill with tears that fall over the edges of my lashes. “I love your husband,” I say with my heart in my throat and my fear spilling from my lungs.
“I know.” She blinks prettily, her green eyes so soft and welcoming in the dim light of the hospital room.
With every ounce of shame and pride I have inside, I repeat what I’m trying to say. “I really love him.” I squeeze her hand as best I can, trying to make her see. To understand what he did for me, for my baby, for Carson and Cora. I’ll never ever be able to repay that. Never. And this doesn’t include all he’s done for me over the past three years. I can’t lose him.
“I know,” she repeats.
I swallow, and the depth of my feelings comes out in a rush. “No, Gigi. I love him…like…like he’s my brother.” My voice makes the words sound scratchy and hard to get out.
“Honey, he is your brother,” she says simply, matter-of-factly, and pulls me into her arms. I go willingly.
“He could have died. And it would have been my fault.” My voice cracks, and I choke on each word, but I need to tell her. To admit the horrible pain that is swallowing me whole. “I could have lost him and you at the same time.” I hiccup through my tears, my body trembling violently as she holds me.
Gillian’s arms tighten around me. “There’s nothing in this world that could take you away from me. And Chase is too strong to leave this earth without one hell of a fight.” She runs her hands through my hair. “And sweetie, he made a choice, one I’m very thankful for. Had he not taken that chance, you and the baby would be dead. Misty would have killed you. There’s no question in my mind.”
“But Chase could have died, and it would have been my fault.” I sob against her neck, the shame flowing over me like a tidal wave.
Gigi holds my hair and pets my back. After allowing me a few minutes to wallow in my misery, she finally speaks. “Do you blame me for your burns? For losing the ability to use your hand fully?” Her question is as soft as a prayer but hits me as hard as a hammer.
In fact, the question flashes straight through me like a lightning strike. I push back and focus on her eyes. “Goodness, no. What happened to me was the direct result of a madman. You are not responsible for Danny. Have you thought that for the past three years?” My mind whirls with the possibility that my best friend has carried this tremendous weight all these years.
Gillian ignores me. “Misty was a mentally ill woman. She quite literally lost her mind and her ability to judge what was real and what wasn’t. You are not responsible for her actions.”
“But…” I try, and she cuts me off.
“No. Kathleen, I’ve not thought you blamed me for what Danny did. Not for a long time. At first I did. I worried all of you blamed me for what happened. But I worked through it with Dr. Madison when the situation went down. And it sounds like you are going to need to as well.”
I nod and let my head fall forward.
“Chase is going to be fine. The doctors say he will make a full recovery. Sure, he’ll need to be babied, but he’s got four women and a host of house staff falling all over themselves to help him.” She pats my hand the same way her husband does when he’s trying to get a point across to me. “He’s going to be fine. Knowing you are alive, the baby you’re carrying is okay, is all he needs to motivate him.”
I take a long, slow breath and glance at him. He’s sleeping. And he will have years and years to continue razzing me.
“You know, Kat, Chase would do anything for his family. And you’re part of that. Not only are you family through our bond, the two of you are close. Friends in a way the rest of us are not. That’s special, and I want him to have such a special connection. He’d have been devastated if you and the baby were hurt.”
She is right. Chase puts family above all else, and he was happy about the baby. Ecstatic, even. The more Davises the better, accord
ing to Chase.
Gillian’s phone buzzes from within her cardigan pocket. She pulls it out and lifts it to her ear. “Hello?” A soft grin overtakes her lips. Her gaze flits to mine. “Yeah, she’s here. I’ll send her home to you. Yes, she’s okay, just checking on the big guy again.”
Again? She knows.
Her lips turn into a slow smile. “Yeah, I think she’s worked through something that was keeping her from resting. I’ll make sure she leaves in a few minutes.”
“You knew?” I ask when she ends the call and puts her phone back in her pocket. “How? You were asleep.”
She stands up and pulls me up with her. “The nurses told me. I had to approve you coming into the ICU. How do you think you got in every night?”
Huh. It hadn’t entered my mind. I was just thankful when I pressed the button and told them who I wanted to see, they automatically buzzed me in.
“Honestly, I didn’t question it. Are you mad?”
“That you came and checked on my husband? That you love him and me so much you couldn’t sleep until you saw him alive? No, honey, I’m not mad. I’m grateful to have you in my life. Grateful for your love and friendship. Family is everything, and you’re my sister.” She pulls me into her arms, and I let the tears fall again while I hold her.
She keeps me close until our tears have dried up and I’m ready to go back home.
* * *
Carson pulls back the covers when I enter the room. “How’s he doing?”
I shrug, pull off my yoga pants and sweatshirt, and slip into bed beside him in only my cami and undies. “Gillian says he’s going to make a full recovery.”
“Of course he is.” He pulls me into his warmth and holds me close. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Why do you keep leaving my bed to go to him?” His voice carries a hint of something I never expected from him.
Jealousy.
“I…I need to see him breathe.” I split myself open wide and let all of my worry spill out.
“You feel responsible?” He holds me close. I rest my head on his chest right above his heart.
“Yeah.”
“But she was my mistake. Not yours. I’m the one who fucked up.” The way his voice sounds, this is something he’s been carrying around with him for a while as well.
I sigh and nuzzle into the smattering of soft chest hair. “We both messed up, but we’re fixing that. And besides, now we’ve got Cora, and our baby on the way.”
Carson runs a hand down my back over my waist until he tucks it around me. “You have to marry me before this baby comes.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Surprise and awe coat his tone. “That’s it? Just okay?”
I shift my shoulders and sigh sleepily. “No reason to wait. Just as long as Chase walks me down the aisle.”
“That could take a few months,” he whispers.
“Then we have time.” I’m not at all concerned with his need to rush a ceremony.
“Where do you want to get married?”
“On the beach in front of our house. Just close friends and family. Barefoot. Ocean. The girls and a flowy white dress designed by Chloe,” I mumble, imagining it already.
“Sounds perfect. There’s just one thing left.” He lifts and scoots to the side of the bed, opens the nightstand drawer, and pulls out a box. I can barely see what he’s doing in the moonlight, but he opens it, claps it shut, and something sparkly catches the light. “Give me your hand.”
I lift my left hand over his chest. “Are you going to ask me?”
“No.”
“What?” I push up as he slides a ring on my finger. Of course, it’s a perfect fit.
“No. I told you. This is it. No going back, no pushing, no running, no anything. You could have died. We could have lost the baby. We are not fucking around. You are marrying me the second Chase can walk you down the beach. End of discussion.”
Holy fucking shit. Carson has never been so forceful and serious in his entire life.
“And furthermore, the next time you slip out of my arms and our bed, you kiss me goodbye and tell me where you’re going. After what’s happened in the past few months, hell, the past few years, you owe me that much. So, if you’re going to slip out to ease your conscience by checking on my cousin and his wife, you give your man a heads up. Okay?” He lifts my hand and kisses the ring on my finger.
I lift it up to the moonlight and smile as streaks ricochet out in all directions. It’s a perfect oval diamond with two matching ovals on each side. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.
“The big oval diamond is you, right in the center. And the two diamonds on each side, that’s you accepting Cora and me as your family. The three of us until we bring home our newest member. Until death do us part.”
“Until death do us part.” I slide over his body, straddling him so that my heat is centered over his. He groans, cups both cheeks, and grinds into me. “I love you.” I lean forward, seal my mouth over his, and set about showing him just how much I love him, this ring, and our future.
EPILOGUE
KATHLEEN
“What is it with you chicas?” Ria asks, hands on hips, shaking her head, rocking a royal-blue skintight dress she could have stolen right out of Sofía Vergara’s closet. She’s standing off to the side of the mirror catching my gaze through the reflection, her eyes an icy-blue as usual.
I’m also in front of the long mirror in my new bedroom, the one Carson added on to our beach ranch house so we didn’t have to sleep in the room where Misty died. That room is now a game room for the guys. Right this instant though, I’m looking at myself in my wedding gown. It’s a breezy, flowy white silk that covers one shoulder completely, hiding my scars. The other arm is bare, showing all skin. The bodice is cinched together with intricate beading, emphasizing my seven-month baby bump, not at all trying to conceal it. Carson and I are excited about our growing family and want the world to know it.
I run my hands down my belly, settling the little kicker inside. He or she wants me to move, and by the way the kicking gets harder, I can tell my little one is very insistent. The only time I get any rest from the soccer player inside me is when I’m moving around. Apparently, rocking the baby to sleep through movement is in my very near future.
“In what way?” I ask while Bree places sprigs of baby’s breath and a fresh brilliant-orange Gerbera daisy in my hair in the small sweep we’ve pulled to the side. The rest is falling in long curling waves down my back the way Carson likes it. One bonus about being pregnant—my hair is growing like a weed and is three times thicker than normal.
Maria points at my belly and then gestures to my entire body. “Isn’t it obvious? Hello, pregnant and getting hitched.”
Gillian fluffs out the bottom of my dress. “So what?”
“I just think it’s funny that I’m the only one who did things right.” She grins cockily.
“Oh, is that so? Says the woman who married her boyfriend’s twin brother!” Bree laughs manically, and Ria pouts.
“Cierto.” True, she admits.
I chuckle and swish from side to side. “You have to admit it is kind of funny that all three of us got married while pregnant.”
“Technically, I didn’t know I was pregnant at the time, so it doesn’t count.” Gigi flicks her long red waves over to one side.
“Doesn’t matter. You were pregnant. So was Bree when she and Phillip eloped, and now, here you are, very pregnant and getting married.” Maria’s confirmation is not helpful.
I frown. “You calling me a hoochie? You calling all of us hoochies?” I put my hands on my much fluffier hips and cock my head for emphasis.
She grins. “Si el zapato calza…” she says in rapid-fire Spanish.
“Shut your mouth. If the shoe fits… What the fuck ever. I had sex one time. One frickin’ time and got pregnant,” Bree huffs. “Gigi was kidnapped and missed her birth control pills. And Kat… What happened to you, Kat?
I forgot.” Bree frowns and taps her lips with one finger.
“My implant ran out.”
“Oh yeah, her implant ran out… Wait. You let that shit run out?” Bree accuses.
I roll my eyes. “Bree, rant. Maria, continue. Or better yet, don’t. Just because Maria’s afraid to get pregnant and be responsible for another human being besides herself doesn’t mean we are.”
Maria’s mouth opens and her entire face contorts into a fiery demon. “That is not true! If it were, we wouldn’t be expecting right now.” She crosses her arms over her ample breasts, and her eyes widen to the size of small saucers.
All three of us stop fiddling with my dress, lose the wind in our bickering sails, and stare at Maria. Her mouth twitches and her eyes water.
Three voices split the air at once.
“No fuckin’ way!” Bree squeals and jumps up and down.
“Oh my God, Ria!” Gigi cries, her hands clasping and going to her chest over her heart.
“Holy shit!” I whisper, not believing what I just heard.
Maria swallows while all three of us stare at her, mesmerized. I’m not sure any of us believed this day would come. The day Maria broke down and gave that man of hers a child. She loves children, sure, but she’s always been so focused on her career and enjoying her relationship. Every time the subject came up, she would change it immediately, stating they had all the time in the world.
“Maria…” I don’t know what to say.
Bree, on the other hand, does not have a problem speaking. She practically flies over to our soul sister in her hot-pink slinky tank dress and tackle-hugs her, squealing with glee.
Gigi loops an arm around my shoulders as we both tear up and wait our turn. Only Bree has no plan to let our sister go, so we make our way over and wrap our arms around one another in a group huddle. All three of us express our excitement over the fact that our kids are going to grow up together, and we’re going to spend the rest of our lives as one big happy family.
Fate: A Trinity Novel: Book Five Page 24
