Weight of the Badge: An Everyday Heroes World Novel (The Everyday Heroes World Book 21)

by T. R. Cupak

  “Is she on her way home from Singapore?”

  “Dammit, Britney. What the fuck is going on?”

  The heart monitor begins to beep faster, indicating Kade’s heart is beating at a faster pace. He’s agitated, and I’m worried he’s going to cause damage to his heart if he doesn’t calm down. Before I can say anything else, the nurse rushes in with a syringe in one hand and a bottle of medicine in the other. Working quickly, he gets the medication into the IV drip, and Kade’s heart rate begins to slow.

  “No hanky-panky until the doctor says it’s okay,” the nurse teases as he retakes Kade’s vitals. Even though he couldn’t be further from what was really going on, I can’t help the blush that flushes my cheeks. “Now, try not to get that heartbeat of his racing again, okay?” The focus is on me, and I feel my face get hotter.

  “I don’t think she will,” Kade responds. He knows he has me right where he wants me. Kade is going to use this to his advantage, and it’s going to work. I won’t take a chance with his recovery just to keep him from finding out what he will eventually know. All I want is to delay it a bit.

  “Thank you, Nurse…” I pause, waiting for the nurse to introduce himself.

  “Aaron,” he responds.

  “I’m Britney.” I stick my hand out to shake his, and it’s a soft handshake.

  “I know, darlin’.” Aaron has a slight twang to his speech that you can easily miss if you’re not paying attention.

  Aaron leaves, and Kade is impatiently waiting for me to tell him everything I know up to this point. Struggling to find the words to explain my brother’s current condition in a manner that won’t worry Kade is damn near impossible. No matter what comes out of my mouth, Kade isn’t going to like it.

  “I’m waiting.” Kade’s deep tone is sharp, and I know his patience is running thin when I see his jawline shift side to side as he grinds his teeth.

  “Just give me a sec,” I snap back at him. Every emotion is taking over my body. I must regain my composure so I can get through what needs to be said. Setting my feelings aside, I take a deep breath in and exhale gradually as I take a seat next to Kade’s bed.

  “Britney, please don’t make me ask again. Your hesitance is making things far worse in my head than they probably are. So please, tell me what you know.” Kade’s tone is softer, and the worried look on his gorgeous face gives me the strength I need to give him what he deserves to know.

  “Before I get to my brother, you need to know that the man who shot you is still alive. You missed his carotid artery by a hair.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he growls between clenched teeth. “Sorry, continue.”

  First, I tell Kade that Deacon told me everything, and I mean everything. Then I let him know that the chief and his sergeant stopped by to check on both of them. I tell him there was no mention of his or Deacon’s jobs, only that they are on administrative leave, which is common after an officer-involved shooting. I let him know they will remain on administrative leave until the IA is complete. Finally, I explain to him that the FBI and the DEA are covering Deacon’s and his asses, claiming they were working under direct orders from them. I told Kade that the three-lettered agencies have been running point on all media platforms with a focus on how he and my brother saved the underage girls from being sold into prostitution. Also, there are strict orders that no one from the police department is to talk to any reporter.

  “Which brings me to Deacon. He’s not doing so well, mentally. We’re waiting on a psychiatrist to assess him and give us a diagnosis, but his doctor seems to think it’s PTSD or delayed shock now that adrenaline isn’t pumping through his veins.”

  “Do you know what happened, Brit? What broke him?”

  “When he left you, he went out to check on the mother and child as you’d asked. Sadly, the mom was already deceased, and he held the little girl’s hand as she took her final breaths.”

  “Fuck me.” Kade rubs his hands down his face and back up, wincing when he pulls up on his hair

  “Are you okay?” I stand and grab his hand closest to me.

  “I’m fine. I probably shouldn’t raise my hands over my head, is all. How is the media not all over the innocent casualties?” Kade asks another question, dismissing his pain.

  “I told you, the DEA and FBI have a handle on the media.”

  “There’s more. I can see it on your face.”

  “The mother was here illegally, and they have yet to confirm if the child was born here or in Mexico. When the agencies found out that piece of information, they knew they could keep it quiet. Well, at least until they find the kid’s dad. As of this morning, no one has contacted the police department to question the whereabouts of the mother and child.”

  “Understood. Now, what about Deacon? What has you so worried?”

  “He’s like a broken record.”

  “Explain.”

  “I’m getting there. Have some patience with me. In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve been to hell and back. Just give me a fucking minute, Kade.” The words spew from my mouth like word vomit, and I immediately feel terrible for coming unhinged on someone who nearly died. There is no excuse for my attitude. All I can say is trying to function on fumes, and stress alone doesn’t work out so well.

  “You’re right. I’m sorry, Britney. Take your time.” Kade replaces irritation with empathy.

  “No, Kade. I’m sorry. I have no right snapping at you.” I apologize for my bitchiness.

  “Seriously, it’s okay. Continue when you’re ready.”

  “Before Deacon went on repeat, he was blaming himself for what happened to you. He said he should have never left you with a suspect still on the loose. I can’t tell you what triggered it, but shortly after D woke up after hitting his head, the only words coming from my brother’s mouth are that he killed a mother and her child. Deacon says it over and over. The doctor gave him something to try to make him sleep or to calm him. My mom and dad don’t know the whole story like I do, so Mom doesn’t understand why those specific words are on repeat—”

  “Because the fucking FBI and DEA are covering up their murders. Goddammit!” Kade cuts me off once again, but this time when he winces in pain, he reaches up to where I assume his incision is and places his hand over the sensitive area. I glance over at the monitors, waiting for an alarm to go off at Kade’s outburst, but none of them make an alert kind of sound.

  “Do you want me to get the nurse?” Pain is written all over his face, and if Aaron can give him something to help, I think he should take it.

  “No. I’ll buzz for him in a bit.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I accept his answer and don’t push him to call the nurse.

  “Kade, as shitty as this is going to sound, you and my brother are lucky to be alive, and to have both agencies saving your asses right now.”

  “Brit, we should have never been there. At least, not the way we were. Our CI said the men were going to leave for a couple of weeks. If we hadn’t been so hellbent on catching our suspects, we could have waited. Fuck, we should have waited. We should have waited until everyone was in place before leaving his truck. We should have followed our direct orders. All I know is that there was no way in hell we were going to let them leave with those girls. We fucked up.”

  15

  KADE

  Britney’s eyes drop to her hands, which are fidgeting in her lap. I study her expressions as they shift. One can only assume that her unease is because her brother’s mental health is in question. Sadness is for the mother and child who became casualties in a shootout that should have never taken place. Anger even makes an appearance. Is she upset because her brother and I fucked up, or because there is nothing she can do to help?

  When Britney’s head lifts, she looks at me, not through me. That is when I see so much more. It’s like she’s allowing me a glimpse into her soul, telling me that I’m safe with her, and that’s when I feel tears slide down my face. I’ve never been on
e to show weakness and vulnerability, but right now, in this hospital room with the woman who owns my heart and will never know it, I let my guard down—for her.

  As if Britney can read my mind, she stands, takes one step toward me, and pulls the covers back. No words, no permission, she just climbs on the bed with me, laying on her left side. Brit angles her body toward me and begins to run her fingers up and down my arm closest to her, trying to comfort and calm me without hurting me.

  I’m a man who doesn’t cry, but I’m sure as fuck bawling like a bitch right now. The more I try to hold back the tears, the more I sound like a feral cat having sex, and the more my chest aches from my surgery. Britney doesn’t say a word, but I know she’s crying too. I can feel the shallowness in her breath like she’s fighting her tears and losing the battle.

  “Britney,” a voice whispers, and my eyes open to see her mom with my mom. Lifting my head, I take in the beautiful angel sleeping peacefully next to me with her right arm resting over my upper chest. I guess we exhausted ourselves from crying because I don’t remember falling asleep.

  “Hey, son.” My mother steps closer, placing her hand on my head. “How are you feeling?”

  “Like I got shot.”

  Britney stirs beside me as she begins to wake. Using her right hand to rub her puffy eyes until they open, it takes her a minute before she’s fully awake. She looks to me first and then rolls her head to the right, noticing we aren’t alone.

  “Mom. Mrs. Beaumont. When did you guys get here, and what time is it?” Her voice is scratchy.

  “We came in about five minutes ago, and it’s six thirty-seven in the evening. We didn’t want to wake Kade, but there wasn’t a way to wake one without the other,” Mom says.

  “How’s Deacon? Do we know anything yet?” Britney asks, knowing that we both want an update on her brother’s current health status.

  “Why don’t you get up and come with me to your brother’s room and let Beth and Kade have some mom and son time? Sydnee dropped off a bag for you.”

  “No, Mrs. Winslow. Please, how is Deacon?” They can’t leave without telling me how my friend is doing. If I don’t find out, I’ll assume the worst.

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t know anything yet. Whatever the doctor gave him earlier knocked him out. He’s been asleep the whole day.”

  “I’m glad he’s sleeping,” Britney tells her mom. “Hopefully, when he wakes, he’ll have a clearer or calmer mindset.”

  Britney sits up and gets out of my bed. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss the feel of her body pressed against mine. She somehow calmed the storm brewing within me, silencing my self-loathing and guilty conscience, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

  Britney turns to face me. “I’ll be back once I know more.” I nod my response because I don’t trust myself. I’m borderline ready to beg her to stay with me, to crawl back into my bed and hold me.

  She turns and hugs my mom.“Mrs. Beaumont, I’m glad you made it home safe.”

  “Thanks for staying with my son.” My mother loves Britney, and I know she secretly hopes that we’ll end up together. But she also knows about the pact, so Mom has never pushed me to date her.

  “We’ll see you two later,” Mrs. Winslow chimes in as she hooks her arm through her daughter’s, and they leave me with my mom.

  “Where’s Dad?” I ask my mother, even though I already know the answer.

  “He’s still in Singapore. You know our vacations always mix with business.” My father is a cold-hearted son of a bitch, but I didn’t think he was fucking heartless.

  “Business before his son, who just got shot. I guess that’s to be expected.”

  “Kade, he’ll be here in a couple of days. He hates hospitals anyway.”

  “Oh, and you and I love fucking hospitals? All he’s going to say is he told me so. He told me this job isn’t worth the risk and that I should be sitting in a corner office, miserable. I don’t want him to come here. I don’t want him to come to my house. If he can’t put aside our differences now, then there’s nothing more for either of us to say to each other.”

  “Son—”

  “Mom, don’t defend him.”

  “I won’t,” she responds defeatedly. “Have you spoken to your doctor yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I’ll check if your doctor is available.” My mother goes to find my doctor, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

  As far as I’m concerned, my father is dead to me. There will be no more faking any semblance of a father-son relationship to appease my mom. I want nothing more than to find out I still have my job because then I can push myself harder and hope to make chief when I’m in my thirties, not my late forties or fifties like most chiefs.

  My mind drifts to Britney. She knows everything but believes her brother and I had to do what we had to do, even if there won’t be justice for the mother and her child. As long as she feigns ignorance about what went down, no one will bother her during the internal investigation. As it stands right now, Britney is merely the sister of an officer who was involved in the shooting.

  A light knock on the door frame interrupts my thought process as a woman in a white coat enters my room with a nurse and my mother right behind her.

  “Mr. Beaumont—” she begins.

  “It’s Kade. My father is Mr. Beaumont, and I’m not him.”

  “Son, manners,” my mother reprimands me like a child. That’s not degrading at all. But she’s right, and my response was rude.

  “It’s fine, Mrs. Beaumont,” the doctor defends my rude behavior. “Kade, I’m Dr. Robinson. I’m the cardiac surgeon who operated on you.”

  “Doctor.”

  “The bullet grazed your left ventricle, which is a good thing; otherwise, you wouldn’t be here right now. It was a clean GSW, so there was very little damage to mend. For just having surgery, your vitals are looking promising, and your incision looks good if I say so myself. How’s your pain level?”

  “I hurt, but so far, it’s not unbearable pain.”

  “That can change once the anesthesia is completely out of your system. Full disclosure, when someone is recovering as well as you are, we move the patient out of ICU. Being as we have six ICU rooms, and only two are in use, I got administrative approval to keep you here. Of course, if we get another ICU patient while you’re still here, we will move you to another room. With any luck, we should have you out of the hospital in a couple of days.”

  “Understood. Thank you.” I am thrilled to hear I’ll be out of this place in a couple of days, but I’m more grateful to the staff for allowing me to stay in my current room. I wasn’t kidding when I said I hate hospitals. They’re a haven for germs, sleep is impossible because the nurses come in what feels like every fifteen minutes, the bed sucks, and the food is bland. At least in this ICU, the nurses and assistants are kind, helpful, and respectful of one’s sleep.

  “Also,” Dr. Robinson continues, “you’re an otherwise healthy man; therefore, you will fully recover. But—”

  “There’s always a but,” I comment.

  “But your recovery will take anywhere from eight weeks to three months,” Dr. Robinson finishes her sentence. “Even then, you won’t be released to full-duty until you’ve completed your physical therapy.”

  “Fuck!” The word flies from my mouth without consideration as to who my audience is. My mother grabs my hand, and I take it as her silent plea to watch my language.

  In my line of work, the F-bomb drops more often than not. I try to rein in my vocabulary, but it is what it is. The word ‘fuck’ is considered to be the worst of the curse words, yet it is the most versatile word. It can be good, bad, or indifferent. In my case, it’s fucking terrible.

  “You will have strict post-op instructions as well as medication to help with the pain, blood thinners to help prevent clotting and some antibiotics to fend off any possibility of infection. If you can manage to follow the directions as written, you’ll have a better cha
nce of recovering faster. The first couple of weeks will be the most difficult, because you’ll be expected to follow a bland, low to no sodium diet as well as abstain from sex, including masturbation.” The doctor glances up from the clipboard in her hand, waiting for my backlash to her last statement.

  You have got to be fucking kidding me! I close my eyes and pretend I didn’t hear what she said. I know everything will be written out, so for now, I choose not to react or acknowledge the no masturbating order. I’m a man, for fuck’s sake. Masturbating is like breathing.

  “Kade, are you listening to the doctor?” Mom’s voice brings my attention to her.

  “Yes,” I deadpan.

  “Well, okay then. Are you hungry?” the doctor asks me.

  “A little.”

  “I’ll ask Nurse Aaron to order you some broth, crackers, water, and ginger ale once he records your next round of vitals. Also, you’re due for your next round of medications. Aaron will bring them to you after you have something in your stomach. Do either of you have any questions?” Dr. Robinson looks to my mother and then me.

  “Not right now.”

  “No, Doctor. Thank you.” Mom’s tone is polite.

  “Oh, and before I forget, the morning nurse will be in to remove the catheter. I want you to try and walk around tomorrow. Although you can walk with a catheter, most patients complain of discomfort and prefer to have it removed.” I didn’t even think about it, but until the doctor said something, I realized I hadn’t had the urge to use the restroom. Now I know why. “I’ll be back tomorrow before my first surgery to check on you. If something changes, please alert the on-duty nurses right away. Don’t wait until whatever you’re feeling becomes unbearable. They’ll contact me, and I’ll rush back in.”

  “Understood. Thanks, Doc.”

  “No, thank you for serving and protecting our community.” And with that, the doctor leaves the room.

  A few minutes pass before my nurse returns, apologizing for forgetting to ask what flavor broth and Jell-O I’d like before placing the order for my dinner. I know my cell phone is dead, so I ask my mom to go to my house to pick up my iPad, charging cables, and grab my gym bag. I know I have clean clothes along with my toiletries stored in it. All I can say is that I’m in desperate need of my toothbrush right now. Mom obliges my request, kissing my forehead before leaving. It’ll take her a little bit to gather my things, so I have some time to relax before I can start texting Britney for updates on Deacon.