Striker (K19 Security Solutions Book 6)

by Heather Slade

  “Did you do as he suggested?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Why not?”

  When Merrigan asked him the same question, he hadn’t told her the truth, even though he was sure she’d guessed it. “I’m afraid,” he whispered.

  Aine moved over. “Lie next to me.”

  When he lowered his body next to hers, this time, Aine comforted him.

  He raised his head when he heard the door open.

  “Sorry, I’ll come back later,” he heard Ava say, and he felt Aine nod.

  “It’s okay if you need to talk to her.”

  “I need to talk to you, Griffin.”

  He sighed, studying the brave woman lying next to him. “Go ahead, Aine. Say what you need to say. Or ask what you want to ask.”

  “Is this why you ended our relationship?”

  “Yes.”

  “Because you didn’t think I’d understand.”

  He looked into her eyes. “I’m not sure you do now. It’s believed that there is a genetic predisposition for the disorder my sister suffered from, and maybe my mother too.”

  “Which is why he suggested you get tested.”

  “Yes, but not for the disorder, for the genetic variations that contribute to it.”

  “Did he say what the chances were that you have those variations?”

  “Only that the risk of developing the condition is greater for first-degree relatives of affected individuals. That would mean both my sister and mother.”

  Aine was quiet for a long time, but Striker waited. He wanted to give her time to think, not bombard her with medical statistics.

  She blinked, and a tear ran down her cheek. “I do understand, Griffin. You weren’t worried about yourself.”

  “Not as much as I was worried about you.”

  “And the children you knew I wanted to have.”

  Striker nodded. “I’m not telling you this now because anything has changed, Aine. I still have the same fears, the same concerns.”

  “Why are you telling me, Griffin?”

  “I wanted you to understand. I wanted you to know that it was nothing you did.”

  “That’s why you said there’d never be anyone else.”

  He nodded.

  “You’re choosing to be alone for the rest of your life because of something you don’t even know you have?”

  “I’m choosing not to subject another person to it if I do. There is always the chance that the disorder will manifest itself in me. Just because I haven’t had symptoms of it yet, doesn’t mean I never will.”

  “Would the test tell you?”

  He nodded.

  “I understand why you wouldn’t want to take it.”

  “You do?”

  “In one of my classes, we talked about something similar. If there was a test that could tell a person that they were predisposed to dementia, for example, would that person want to know?”

  “Would you?”

  Aine took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

  Striker nodded. “Same for me. I’ve gone back and forth trying to decide if it would be better to know, or let myself remain ignorant.”

  “There is treatment for bipolar disorder though, right?”

  “There is.”

  “It isn’t the same as it would be if it were something like Parkinson’s or Alzheimer’s.”

  “I’ve considered that. So, you think I should do it?”

  Aine brushed his lower lip with her thumb. “I can’t answer that.”

  “You can tell me what you think. I’m asking.”

  “I can’t answer, because I don’t know.”

  Striker nodded.

  “There is something I do know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I want to be with you, Griffin. I don’t care if we never know. I still want to be with you.”

  “I knew you would feel that way. It’s the reason I didn’t tell you.”

  “But now you did.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that I want to protect you from this.”

  “Let me ask you a question. What if you did do the testing and found out you didn’t have the genetic variation? Would you still want to be with me, knowing I might not be able to have children?”

  He knew she’d ask that question, and when he thought about it earlier, he’d had a different answer than he had now. Before, he would’ve told her it wasn’t the same thing. Now he understood that she wouldn’t see it that way. To her, it was exactly the same.

  “If there were a way, I could be with you, Aine, I would do it.”

  “There is a way. All it takes is for you to want it.”

  “What if…”

  “We face it together. No matter what ‘ifs’ there are in our lives, we face them together.”

  19

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You know you can’t be sleepin’ in Miss Aine’s bed,” said the man she guessed was Drew.

  Griffin—because she could no longer think of him as Striker—stretched and sat up. “What time is it?”

  “Almost ten, and little miss here needs her rest, which she can’t do with you hoggin’ half her bed.”

  He stood. “Is Ava still here?”

  “No, she left about an hour ago. Told me to tell Miss Aine that she’d be back in the morning.”

  “Oh.”

  “It’s okay,” Aine told him. “You can leave. I’ll be sleeping anyway.”

  He shook his head.

  “Seriously, Griffin. Go get some sleep and come back in the morning like Ava is.”

  “Or, I could arrange to have a roll-away brought in. That way you could both sleep without having to share a little bitty bed that’s barely big enough to hold one person let alone two.”

  “That would be great,” he answered before she could protest. “Thanks, Drew.”

  “Here,” he said, handing him a piece of paper. “Order some food for Miss Aine and something for yourself too.” Drew pointed to the bottom of the paper. “There’s the number. Just call, and they’ll bring it up in about thirty minutes.”

  “Can you eat?” Griffin asked.

  “It doesn’t matter. She has to. You were sleepin’ in her bed; you darn well better know what she likes to eat.”

  Aine laughed, and even though it hurt, it felt good too. “Can I get breakfast?”

  “You can get whatever you want,” Drew answered.

  “I want pancakes.”

  “That does sound pretty good. Maybe I’ll have pancakes too.”

  “What you waitin’ for?” Drew handed Griffin the phone. “The sooner you call, the sooner the food gets here.”

  “He’s a character,” Griffin said once Drew left the room.

  “He’s great.”

  “Yeah, I agree.”

  Griffin ran his hand through his hair and sat down in the chair.

  “You look so tired. I’m telling you, I’ll be okay if you want to go back to Cambria and sleep in a real bed.”

  “I won’t be.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I won’t be okay.”

  At first Aine thought he was teasing, but the look on his face told her differently. Griffin had held everything he told her inside for eight months. Now that it was out in the open, he was feeling vulnerable. She wished the hospital bed was big enough for both of them. She’d sleep a lot better with him beside her too.

  “You can stay, but you have to promise me that you’ll take a break from this place tomorrow when Ava gets here.”

  “We’ll see.”

  —:—

  Striker woke up when the monitors in the room started beeping. “Aine? Are you okay?”

  The door flew open; Paula, Drew, and two other people ran in.

  “You need to wait outside,” Drew said to him, dragging him by the arm.

  “What’s happening?”

  “She’s seizing.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “She’s having a seizure,”
Drew shouted, running back into the room.

  Striker pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Razor. He had no idea what time it was, but it didn’t matter, he knew he had to tell Ava.

  “What up?” Razor answered.

  “Aine had, is having, a seizure.”

  “We’ll be right there.”

  Striker paced outside of Aine’s room, terrified. He didn’t remember saying a prayer since Aunt Dorothy used to force him to before bed, but he said one now, begging God to keep Aine alive.

  Two more people rushed past him; they looked like they might be doctors. Drew came out shortly after they went in.

  “She’s okay,” he told him.

  “What happened?”

  “It’s rare, but anesthetics can sometimes cause seizures. The doc isn’t sure that’s it, so he’s going to run some tests.”

  “Can I see her?”

  “Give them a few minutes to make sure she’s stable, then you can go back in.”

  “Thanks, Drew.”

  The nurse slapped his back when he walked away. “Hang in there, man.”

  He checked his phone. It had been fifteen minutes since he called Razor, so they should be arriving any minute.

  Selfishly, he hoped he’d get to go in and see Aine before they got there. Otherwise, he’d let Ava go in first, and he really wanted to see that she was okay with his own eyes.

  The remaining five people who had been in the room with her filed out. Paula was the last of them. “You can go in,” she told him.

  Striker rushed in and over to Aine’s bedside. “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “I have a headache, but otherwise I’m fine. They said I had a seizure.”

  “Do you remember anything?”

  “Nothing. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I was surrounded by people holding me down.”

  “Drew said the doctor is going to run some tests.”

  “What time is it?”

  Striker looked up at the clock. “Midnight.”

  “God, I’m so sorry. You should go now. Seriously, Striker, get some sleep.”

  “Striker?”

  Aine smiled. “Sorry. Griffin, go get some sleep.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” he said, stroking her forehead. “I was so worried.”

  “I’m okay,” she whispered.

  The door flew open, and Ava ran in followed by Razor.

  “I’ll warn you now that Penelope and Tara are right behind us.”

  Striker nodded.

  “Wanna get a cup of coffee?” Razor asked.

  “Sounds great. Give me a sec.”

  He walked over to the bed. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, leaning to brush her lips with his.

  He looked up at Ava. “Text Razor if she needs me.”

  Striker sat outside Aine’s room, nursing his cup of steamy brew.

  “Did you tell her?” Razor asked, yawning.

  “Yeah. How’d you know?”

  “You aren’t as tightly wound as you’ve been the past couple of weeks.”

  “It could just be because I’m almost sleepwalking.”

  “Nah. But if you need to get some rest, go back to our place. I’m sure Ava isn’t going to leave her sister’s side. We’ll be here.”

  “Can’t.”

  “I get that.”

  “Should we call Peggy?”

  “Avarie tried. Their mother is on a cruise somewhere. I can’t remember where she said. Anyway, she left a message for her.”

  Striker nodded, yawning like Razor had. “I love her, you know that, right?”

  Razor rubbed Striker’s shoulder. “I knew it before you did.”

  The door opened, and Penelope and Tara walked out. “We’re going back to the house, and Quinn is leaving too. Good luck getting Ava out of there, though.”

  “She can stay as long as she wants,” Razor told them. “Why would I want to go home and go back to bed?”

  “Where’s your baby?” Striker asked.

  “Damn—we forgot all about Sam.” Razor laughed and squeezed Striker’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, my mom and sister are at the house. Awful paternal of you to ask, though.”

  “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t leave him in the car.”

  “That isn’t remotely funny,” fumed Tara. “Do you know how many babies die from—”

  Razor held up his hand. “You can blame our lack of sensitivity on a similar lack of sleep.”

  “Or we can just blame it on you being men.”

  “That’s right. We’re Neanderthals. Every one of us.”

  “Let’s go.” Penelope yawned as she pulled Tara in the direction of the elevator. “See you guys later.”

  Striker held up his hand in what might be construed as a wave, but he was so tired, he didn’t do much more than raise it.

  “They brought a roll-away bed in for me. I sure would like to be lying on it right now.”

  “What’s stopping you?”

  “Your wife is in there.”

  “So? I’m sure all they’re talking about is you.”

  Striker got up and pushed the door open.

  “I was just leaving,” Quinn told him, waving him into the room. “Call me if you need me,” she said as she walked away.

  “Am I interrupting?” he asked.

  “Not really. We were just talking about you.”

  “See?” said Razor, punching his arm. “Striker here wants to go to bed, Avarie.”

  “But they’re taking Aine for tests.”

  “Which they won’t have the results of until tomorrow,” Aine told her sister. “Go home and sleep.”

  “Okay, but only because he’s here,” Ava said, pointing at Striker. “Goodnight,” she added, kissing her sister’s cheek. “I’ll be back in the morning. I guess it is morning. I’ll be back later this morning.”

  Aine laughed. “You’re delirious. Get out of here.”

  “Can you sleep?” Striker asked once Ava and Razor were gone.

  She nodded. “What about you?”

  “Only if I do this.” Striker moved the chair away from the bed and put the roll-away in its place. “I need to be closer to you.”

  He stretched out on the bed as much as he could, seeing it was designed for a person half his size. He’d told Aine he could sleep if he was near her, but only because then she’d let herself do the same. He couldn’t, though. He bent his elbow and rested his head on his hand, watching her.

  The same indecision warred inside him. Was he right to have told her the real reason he ended their relationship? It wasn’t as though anything had changed. And if he did go ahead with genetic testing and it turned out he did have the variations his sister had, what then?

  He never thought of himself as a selfish man, but when it came to Aine, he wanted to be. He wanted to let illness and disorders and inabilities to have children be damned, and spend his life with her.

  Imagining what that would be like, he rested his head on the pillow and let himself sleep.

  20

  Aine held her breath, hoping she could will the nurse away who would soon walk through the door and wake Griffin. She knew the minute his eyes opened, his face would close on the peace and serenity he exhibited only when he slept.

  Instead of nightmares, his dreams this morning must be filled with the light and love he’d never allow himself to accept when the sun rose on the day ahead.

  She loved the man sleeping in the too-small bed by her side. Nothing would change the way she felt, even if he remained intransigent in his determination to do what he believed was best for her rather than what was best for her heart.

  Instead of being jarred awake by an overzealous hospital employee anxious to complete the first of her daily tasks, Griffin’s eyes opened slowly and settled on hers.

  “Good morning,” he murmured, shielding his eyes from the stream of sunlight illuminating the room.

  She smiled. “Good morning.”

  He smiled too. “I’d give
anything to know what you’re thinking.”

  “Trying to keep the day at bay.”

  He turned to his side and propped himself up on his elbow. “What are you worried about?”

  “I don’t know where to begin.”

  He sat up then and reached out for her hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

  Unexpected tears filled her eyes. He had no idea that his apology would only be one of many if her fears were realized. If he left her today, repeating that nothing between them had changed, her fractured heart would break in two.

  “Hey,” he said, standing and coming to sit by her side, on the bed. “Talk to me.”

  She shook her head, unable to speak her greatest worry.

  “The doctor said he was confident the masses were benign,” he said, trying to guess the reason for her tears.

  Aine squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. “I’m okay,” she said when she opened them again.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “More effects of the anesthetic.”

  Griffin shook his head. “Tell me the truth, Aine.”

  The tears she’d demanded away, returned, flooding her eyes. “Don’t leave me,” she whispered.

  Griffin cupped her cheek with his palm, leaned forward, and brought his lips to hers. “Even if you’re better off without me?”

  “Never,” she murmured. “Never leave me again.”

  “You know what I do for a living.”

  “That isn’t what I mean. Don’t make me live without you, Griffin.”

  “Do you know what you’re asking? Or better put, what you’re agreeing to by asking me to stay?”

  Aine nodded. “I don’t care.”

  “I know better.”

  “What if I’m the reason we can’t have a family? What if it isn’t you? Would you leave me then?” she asked.

  “Never.”

  “Then don’t force me to do what you wouldn’t.”

  His eyes remained fixed on hers as though he was gazing into her soul, looking for the slightest hesitation.

  Aine put her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer so her lips rested just below his earlobe. “I love you, Griffin.”

  He pulled back, but only so far that his lips could cover hers. He kissed her deeply, one hand gripping her arm, the other cupping her cheek.