Chapter Nineteen: Amber
I roar up the street and shoot into the Emergency Room parking lot. I jump off my bike and sprint towards the door. As soon as I’m inside, I rip off my helmet and see Zaydra and Collin, while Titus is off to the side, along with several uniformed officers. The waiting room is packed. I march up to Titus.
“Greybeard, how is he? I need an update.” My voice lashes out like a whip, and Zaydra is looking at me like she’s seeing me for the first time. I ignore her inquisitive looks.
“He was shot twice. Once in the shoulder, and once in the side. The bullet went cleanly through his side, but the other is imbedded in his shoulder, so they’re doing surgery to remove it.”
My breath releases in an audible gust of air. “So, he’s going to be okay?” I ask, relieved.
Titus gives me a hard look. “He’s going to survive, yes, and he’ll have new scars that he doesn’t need. He did lose a hell of a lot of blood. Whoever shot at him was scared off by the sirens, it looks like. But, why are you here, Amber?”
“What do you mean, why am I here? Zaydra called me. Where else would I be?” I ask with confusion, gesturing to Zaydra.
“I mean, after the stunt you pulled earlier at this same fucking hospital, with your new boyfriend. I’ve known Ryan a lot of years, and he’s never let anyone get the drop on him, and we’ve been shot at a fucking lot. Until today, until you had him so distracted that he gets shot, not once but fucking twice. So, yeah, the question I’m asking is, why are you fucking here? I think you should leave.” The anger and helpless rage in his tone is palpable and my stomach feels like it’s dropped out of my butthole.
“Hey! Titus, that’s uncalled for. She’s here because I called her, because we both know that’s what Ryan would want. We don’t know anything about Amber’s ‘boyfriend’ or her relationship with Ryan, or the lack thereof. He’d want her here, so you should watch what you say,” Zaydra hisses at Greybeard, protecting me like the guard dog kind of friend she is. Titus bares his teeth and takes a step forward, towards Zaydra and me.
Collin puts a hand on his shoulder and steps between us. His low voice floats to us as he whispers in Titus’s ear. “I realize you’re scared about your partner right now. That’s the only reason I’m giving you a pass. Ryan is my best friend, I’ve been his commanding officer before, and I’ve known that man all my life. And how you just talked to someone he considers under his protection would have gotten you knocked out. Whether or not they’re together is irrelevant. You know that. Stop taking your fear and anger out on my woman and her friend. I’ll only tell you once.” I stiffen and see Titus and Collin lock eyes for a long minute, before he slightly nods.
“It’s okay, Collin, I never meant to cause drama. I just needed to know he was okay. Do you know who shot him, or have an idea?” I direct the last bit at Greybeard around the brick wall that is Collin.
“We don’t know, but somebody slashed his tires this morning too. Maybe he’s being targeted because he’s the lead investigator in the heroin laced with fentanyl OD’s. It’s an odd coincidence that your apartment was burglarized today too, isn’t it?” His question smacks into me with accusation.
“I don’t know what you mean. I have nothing to do with that, Titus, and you know that,” I reply, trying to sound indifferent.
“Yeah, well, explain your connection to Nastassia Bennett then…” he starts, but is interrupted by another police officer. He steps to the side to whisper quietly to him, then the waiting game begins.
A few hours after arriving at the hospital, I’m about to attack someone over my anxiety for Ryan. A physician finally makes his way to where we are all standing. He stops in front of Titus.
“Mr. Masterson? Your partner came through, he’s resting in recovery and awake now. He’s also asking for you. He’s a little out of it, but is adamant he sees you now. So, if you’ll follow me this way…” His voices drifts out of earshot as he leads Titus back to the recovery room.
I stand there, dazed, with my mind racing, when Zaydra steps around into my view. I cringe slightly, knowing I have a lot of explaining to do. I’m doing my best to look innocent, or as innocent as Amber James always looks.
“Apparently, I don’t know you at all, Amber. A boyfriend? A motorcycle? Your apartment was vandalized? What the hell is going on?” Zaydra asks me point blank as Collin comes to her side and puts an arm around her waist. I feel like I’m facing a firing squad and I swallow hard.
“I’ve been…followed for the past week or so. Apparently, like Ryan, I’ve received a few threats too. I can’t give you much more detail than that.”
“We’ve received a couple of threats as well. Dammit, Amber, you should have told us,” Collin interjects.
“Wait, you have?” I ask at the same time as Zaydra asks, “Wait, we have?”
Collin runs his hand down his face tiredly. “Yes, we have. A few slashed tires, photographs with the eyes gouged out. Nothing too bad. I have my security looking into it and handling it. They think it might have something to do with the ring having connections to the cartel.”
I blink at him a few times while Zaydra looks slightly outraged.
“Nothing too bad…just pictures with the eyes gouged out. Are you kidding me, Collin?” Zaydra hisses and he whispers something in her ear. Her hand protectively covers her stomach and she swears.
“I didn’t know the ring had ties to the cartel. I wasn’t informed of this since when?” I bark at Collin.
“I didn’t think it would be smart to scare you unnecessarily after you narrowly avoided death. Ryan and I decided not to tell you ladies because it was handled,” Collin tells us.
“Because we’re such shrinking violets that we needed you to protect us against everything. I could have used that information. Dammit, Collin.” I swear heartily and turn to leave.
“Where are you going, Amber?” Zaydra calls after me.
“I have work to do,” I call back and exit the hospital. This information changes everything. Damn them both for keeping this from me. If Stoney wasn’t already shot, I might shoot him myself. I send up a silent thanks to the powers-that-be that he wasn’t seriously injured though, because the only person who gets to shoot Stoney is me. Bastards.
I reach my bike and before I swing my leg over, I pause. If this could be connected to the cartel, that’s why people are fucking scared. That’s why they’re not talking. I turn to head in the opposite direction of my bike and the ER, to the inpatient area. I bypass all the uniformed officers, and Zaydra’s prying eyes. I love my best friend but she’s too inquisitive for her own good.
The moment I reach the information desk, I throw on a charming smile. The nurse behind the desk looks up and narrows her eyes at me. I seem to have that effect on people. I smile wider just to prove a point.
“Hi there. I’m here to see my friend, Nastassia Bennett, before visiting hours end. I’m sure she’s been moved, so I was just going to inquire what room she was in?” I ask sweetly.
The nurse huffs slightly and scans her computer. After some clicks on the keyboard, she looks up at me again. “Ms. Bennett was signed out AMA earlier, she’s no longer here.”
“Did she sign herself out or did someone else sign her out? It’s very important. I’m worried about her well-being, we’re practically sisters, and she didn’t tell me.” My tone is laced with concern that isn’t faked.
“She was signed out by her significant other, who has power of attorney over her. I’m sorry, ma’am, maybe you should try calling her to find out more information.” The nurse is starting to get impatient and I tamp down my irritation.
“One last thing, can you tell me his name? She never told me she was involved with anyone…” I ask with a wealth of hurt in my voice, and I allow one tear to slip down my cheek. The tear I muster is for Ryan and not for Nastassia, but it’s called for in this situation.
The nurse is staring at me hard, and at my tears, she seems to soften. She looks both ways to ma
ke sure there is no one else around and she leans forward. I meet her halfway.
“Nathaniel Crane.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you telling me,” I say, but inside I’m swearing at this new development because I’ve heard that name before. This means Briar has so much to fucking explain. I hope I wasn’t wrong to trust her. My gut tells me I wasn’t, and it’s never led me astray.
The moment I’m outside, the cool air assaults my overheated face. The streetlights cast an orange glow on the parking lot, reflecting my gloomy mood. I pull out my phone and dial her number.
“Briar, you’ve got so much explaining to do,” I snap the second she answers. “I was going to give you a few days to process, but that timeline just got moved up to right fucking now. Meet me.”
I’m met by silence for a moment before I hear a huffed laugh. My hackles raise slightly.
“I miss my friend. She was way crazier and less badass, but I look forward to getting to know this side of her as well. Starbucks on Olive?” she responds, not giving one single fuck about my demanding tone.
“Fine, fifteen minutes. Don’t be late,” I grit out, not giving one inch.
Chapter Twenty: Ryan
Waking up in the hospital has my heart pounding, mainly because I can’t remember how I got here. I look around at the unfamiliar surroundings, trying to clear the fog out of my brain, as some nurses starts asking me a ton of questions while checking my vitals. I pull the oxygen line from my nose, despite the clucking of disapproval from my Nurse Mother Hens. I try to sit up, but two nurses rush me and put gentle but strong hands on my shoulders to keep me in place. Either nurses are getting stronger or I’m weaker than I’ve ever been.
“Mr. Stone, if you don’t stop struggling, we’ll have to sedate you,” one of the nurses tells me. I stop immediately and their hands stay for another minute before they realize I have no intention of fighting anymore and they step back. A gray-haired gentleman in a suit with a white lab coat, who I’m assuming is my doctor, chooses that moment to come into the room. He sees me awake, moves towards me, and has a seat on the roller stool near the bed.
“Ah, Mr. Stone, you’re awake. You’ve just had surgery to mend your bullet wounds and to remove a bullet from your shoulder. You came through surgery with flying colors, but you’ll unfortunately have a few more scars to add to your collection. And you’ll have to take it easy for a couple of weeks. Do you remember what happened to you?”
“No…I…” At that moment, my memory slams into me with startling clarity. “I need you to get Titus Masterson. I need to see him right now,” I order the surprised doctor. I start to struggle to get up but the nurse in the corner pins me with a glare.
“Now, Mr. Stone, you’re not quite ready for visitors yet,” the doctor tries to tell me gently.
“Sir, I’m Sergeant Ryan Stone with the St. Louis Police Department, Narcotics division. With all due respect, I need to see Detective Masterson as soon as possible. It’s a matter of utmost importance,” I say in a firm, icy tone.
The older gentleman purses his lips but nods and leaves the room. I see the nurse in the corner still glaring at me.
“Can you at least raise the bed up, if you won’t let me sit up on my own? Please?” I go for nice, even though the soreness and pain are starting to filter their way through the pain medication. She huffs but does what I ask. As soon as the bed starts to move to a more upright position, my right side starts screaming in pain, and I suck in a deep breath through clenched teeth. I’m trying to situate myself more comfortably when Titus walks in. I smile at him, which turns into more of a grimace.
“What the hell, Stone? I leave you alone for a few hours and you go and get yourself shot? Are you trying to get all the sympathy from the hot dispatchers? Or the hot nurses here?” he says with a wink to Nurse Ratchet in the corner. He strides to an empty chair near the left side of my bed and plops down. She glares and waves him off as she exits the room with one last glance back at me and Titus.
“Titus. The man who shot at me was Hispanic, late twenties or early thirties, tattoos up and down his arms...” I tell him quietly.
“EMS said you were shot in the back and most likely didn’t get a good look at the person who shot you,” Titus says after a beat.
“I didn’t see him at first, but after the second time I was shot, right before I lost consciousness, I looked back and he stepped under a streetlight. He was Hispanic, could have been a banger. I don’t know if this is a grudge or if this is connected to the overdoses, but it felt important you know that. He wasn’t shooting at anyone else, so I was very obviously the target. Now we need to figure out why.”
“Is Amber out there?” I ask suddenly after a pregnant pause. Titus looks chagrined. My eyebrows draw down inquisitively.
“She was. Zaydra and Collin called her…I sent her away,” he tells me softly.
“Why the hell would you do that?” I ask incredulously.
“Are you kidding me? After what she pulled at this same hospital earlier today? She came alone but I wasn’t going to have her here, upsetting you and distracting you even more, right after you’d been shot.”
“Titus, that’s not your call. It’s mine. Even if all we can be is friends, she deserves to be here. I was there for her, it’s not your fucking place to tell her what she can and can’t do,” I tell him angrily. “Now, get out of here and send Collin in.” I pause. “Try to figure out who shot me, yeah?”
“Got you, Sergeant. Watch your six,” he mutters and rises from his chair. The second he’s out of earshot, I flop my head back with a pained groan and try to ease the burning in my shoulder and side by stretching out. After resting for a few minutes, I raise my head when footsteps walk into the room.
I see Collin’s grim face, followed by my old Special Forces buddy, Jensen Michaels, to my shock. Jensen shoots me a smile and a small wave.
“What’s up, man? Holy shit, I wasn’t expecting to see you! Especially not when I’m laid up!” I tell Jensen with surprise in my voice.
“Hey, Sarge, I wasn’t expecting to hear that you got shot right when I got to town. I was hoping for a little less excitement, maybe dinner with everybody,” he says with a laugh.
“He’s been planning on staying with me, we were going to surprise you. Instead, you fucking surprised us,” Collin interjects accusingly.
“Well, what can I say? I’ve always loved surprises.” I smirk, but it slowly fades as I clear my throat. “The guy who shot me was Hispanic, Collin. I don’t know if it has anything to do with the cartel, or the case I’m working, or fucking both.”
Collin starts swearing a blue streak as he paces up and down my hospital room. Jensen takes the seat Titus had vacated and we wait for Collin to calm down. I try a different tactic.
“Where’s Zaydra? I wanted to congratulate her.”
“I sent her home. She hasn’t been feeling well, and the stress she’s been under isn’t good for the baby. She’s apparently a worrier. But I know you are too.” I shrug at his words, which causes me to hiss in pain. The nurse chooses that moment to enter my room again.
“Time for your pain meds, Mr. Stone. No solids yet, so I’m going to administer them through your IV,” she tells me as she ignores the men and strides to my IV. I try to protest but she sends me another scathing glare and I start grumbling quietly. She rolls her eyes like I’m a huge baby, makes sure the IV is working correctly, and leaves again without a word to me or the other guys.
“She’s scary as fuck. The twins should be here. They get off on scary, yeah?” Jensen says, referring to two of the men in our old unit. I ignore his joke and look pointedly at Collin.
“We’ve received threats, Zaydra and I, just like your slashed tires. We think it’s connected to the cartel. Not the cartel, per se, but connected to someone close to them because that’s not the cartel’s style. They kill first and ask questions later. Like what happened with you. But… Amber told me she’s also been receiving threats and she
felt like she’s been followed for the last couple of weeks.” The drugs are starting to hit my system and my head feels floaty as it numbs the pain, but it does nothing for the icy spike of terror that runs through my blood at that comment.
“Son of a bitch. She…can’t…get hurt again. We have…have to… protect her, Collin.” I start slurring, my vision going foggy slightly. But I pin Collin with my stare as much as I can and he sighs.
“I’m not sure she needs protection, Ryan,” he responds, but before I can question him, I pass out with all the questions floating around in my head.
Chapter Twenty-One: Amber
My bike zips into the parking garage near Starbucks. I see police caution tape and it hits me like a ton of bricks that this is the place where I almost lost the most important person in my life. Someone tried to steal him from me. It just fuels the fire in my soul to find the person who caused him pain. To find the people who keep causing pain to addicts and their families. Addiction is already a bitch and it doesn’t need to be made worse by people selling deadly laced drugs.
I park my bike away from the caution tape, then swing my leg over and pull my helmet from my head. I shake out my blonde hair and run my fingers through it to erase the matted look I have going on.
I prop my helmet on my bike and start towards the coffee shop. I dare anyone to steal it after the night I’ve had; I’m more likely to shoot someone now than I’ve ever been. Thankfully, this coffee shop is twenty-four hours so there’s no need to rush this meeting. I know Briar still has a ton of questions, but I need answers first. She owes me that. Even if she didn’t, as a detective in this city that was hurt possibly in connection to the answers she has, she owes Ryan that.
I pull open the door and glance around the fairly active coffee shop. SLU students come here late to get their study on, but I’m not seeing Briar. I make my way to the counter and order a latte. I take a seat to wait for my order and glance down at my watch. Briar has two minutes before she’s late. I don’t think she’d stand me up, but lately I feel like Alice in Wonderland, I don’t know which way is up anymore. I keep checking the time when my name is called for the order. I stalk to the counter to pick it up from a vaguely familiar male barista who keeps sending me inquisitive looks. I ignore him and turn to head back to the table.
Wannabe: An Against The Odds Novel Page 11