by Kaylea Cross
Beckett wouldn’t say he was sorry. Molly had to do what Molly had to do, and Beckett wanted her to be safe and happy. With Carter, she was neither of those things anymore.
Carter drew a deep breath and seemed to force himself to meet Beckett’s gaze. “I came to talk to you about the possibility of getting my job back.”
Beckett stared at him. It might have been funny if it wasn’t so fucking awkward and sad. “That’s not happening.”
A spark of anger lit in Carter’s eyes. “Beck. I’m begging you, as a friend and someone you served with. As someone who had your back during all those tight spots we got into. Please.”
It killed Beckett to have to refuse him. But he didn’t have a choice. Carter had been a liability for a while now. He couldn’t risk his business or reputation on someone so volatile and unreliable. And there was no easy way to say it. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” Not even odd jobs or handyman stuff, because he would still have to work with people.
Carter didn’t react, just stared at him for a long moment, almost in shock. “So that’s it then?”
“I can’t. You’ll have to look for a job elsewhere.”
“Like where, back in Kansas?”
“Why not go home? You’ve still got family there.”
Carter snorted derisively. “They don’t give a shit about me. Guess nobody does.” He dragged a hand through his hair, his expression full of defeat and desolation.
Beckett had to bite back the words forming on his tongue. Let me see what I can do. No. He couldn’t risk taking a single step back from his stand on this. Couldn’t risk passing his former teammate onto someone else, because Carter was so unstable. Even though it made Beckett feel like shit, Carter would have to fight this looming battle on his own.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, unable to keep from saying something to fill the void.
“You’re sorry.” Bitterness dripped from each word.
“Yes. I am.” He pushed out a breath, that damn guilt pricking him. “Look, I’ll ask around, keep an ear open for anything that might work for you. If I hear of anything I’ll let you know.” Though it was gonna be damn hard to find anything that wouldn’t require Carter working with other people.
Carter nodded without looking at him. “Yeah. See you around.” He turned and disappeared down the stairs, leaving Beckett’s belly feeling like it was full of concrete.
God, he was so tired of feeling like shit for things he’d had to do in the line of duty, and now his career. For some reason it felt like the guilt over this situation with Carter threatened to become the proverbial straw on the camel’s back.
Beckett had let a lot of people down during his years of service—unintentionally, though that didn’t make anything better. Now he’d done the same to a teammate, a man he’d shed blood, sweat and tears with in the worst circumstances imaginable.
His mood was straight up pissy when he walked out the front door a few minutes later. Carter was nowhere to be seen. Beckett got into his truck, absently reached over to scratch Walter’s floppy ear as he started the engine. He needed to go home, have a shower and clear his head before heading over to Sierra’s, or he would ruin their night together. Carter was a grown man, and only Carter could fix the mess he was in.
Except Beckett had a bad, gut-deep certainty that things weren’t going to get better for his former teammate.
The sight of the old Victorian perched on the cliff filled him with a bittersweet pang when he turned into the driveway. His parents had both loved this place, and so did he. It was home, still held pieces of them here.
His dad hadn’t been back here in over two months. The next good day he had, Beckett should bring him back here for a few hours. Let him sit on the back porch in his favorite rocking chair with a beer while Beckett grilled them steaks, and enjoy the view together.
Inside he gave Walter his dinner and jumped into the shower, mentally shoving the meeting with Carter out of his mind. He’d had a great afternoon with his dad, and had a dinner with Sierra to look forward to. Soon he would feel her underneath him again, taste her. Tonight he was staking his claim in the most elemental way possible.
Whatever happened, he needed her tonight.
He changed into fresh jeans and a button-down shirt before heading out the door, checking his phone for messages as he reached the porch.
He’d missed three calls from the hospital while he was getting ready. No one had left a message or text. He frowned, a warning buzz igniting in the pit of his stomach. If it was really important they would have left a message, right?
They called three times in the past twenty minutes.
Icy fingers of unease wrapped around the base of his spine. He called the number back. “This is Beckett Hollister. I missed your calls just now.”
“Beckett, hi, this is Nancy.” The nurse from his father’s floor he’d become friendly with. “You need to come here straight away. I’m afraid your dad’s taken a turn for the worse.”
Chapter Seventeen
Sierra did her best to conceal her concern, but the plain truth was, Molly looked awful. Dressed in pastel pink scrubs as they sat outside in a small courtyard off the Emergency entrance, her face was pale and drawn, dark shadows beneath her eyes. Her eyes had a dull look to them, as though she hadn’t slept in a long time, and little stress lines had formed around them and her mouth.
Seated next to her friend at the small wrought iron café-style table with her soup and sandwich, Sierra waited for her friend to say something, but quickly filled the void when she didn’t. “Not hungry?” It was warm out, but the umbrella shaded them from the sun.
Molly gave a tiny shake of her head. “No. Sorry, I’m not the greatest company today.”
“That’s okay, you don’t have to pretend with me.”
“I’m glad, because that shit’s exhausting,” she said, the corners of her lips lifting.
“Did something happen?” Sierra asked, seeing right through the attempt at humor.
Molly dropped the act, her expression sobering. “I filed the separation papers yesterday.”
She said it with such guilt that it wrenched Sierra’s heart. “I’m so sorry, hon. I know how tough that must have been for you.” Molly was hard on herself and took her responsibilities seriously, but after what had happened with Carter the other day, it was for the best.
Her friend nodded, lips pressed tight together, her salad untouched in front of her. “They were supposed to serve Carter with them this morning, but I wasn’t sure where he was so I don’t even know if he got them. I haven’t called him because I don’t know what to say.”
“Is he expecting this?”
“Yes. But it will still hit him hard. Hell, it’s hit me hard, and it was my decision.”
Molly looked so tired, and after today she had two back-to-back night shifts ahead of her. “What are you planning to do now?”
“Start proceedings for the divorce as soon my six month residency hits, I guess. There’s no point in waiting. It’s over. It’s been over for a long time now.” She shook her head, a faraway look in her pretty eyes. “The TBI changed everything so fast. I’m gutted and frustrated that the man I loved has deteriorated to this extent right in front of me, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
“Moll, you tried everything.”
She groaned. “I also stood up in my church in front of our friends and family and vowed to stay with him through sickness and in health,” she murmured, blinking fast.
“But it’s your health and safety at risk now too, if you’d stayed,” Sierra pointed out. “You didn’t have a choice anymore.”
Molly nodded absently. “I know. He knows it too, because he doesn’t trust himself either. And that’s almost the worst part.”
It made Sierra cringe to recall the story about Carter pressing a gun into Molly’s hands and ordering her to shoot him if he ever threatened her. How terrifying must that have been? “I feel terrible for him, for what’s
happened. But I’m glad you’re protecting yourself.”
“Thanks. Maybe in time I won’t feel like the worst person on earth for leaving him. In the meantime I’m just taking one step at a time. I’ll help him out as best I can with finances and whatever, but…I can’t be with him now.”
“I know.” She reached across the table to rub Molly’s upper arm and give her a reassuring smile. “It’s going to be hard at first, but it will get better.”
Molly forced a smile, then frowned and fanned her hands in front of her. “Anyway, I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” She attempted a smile. “What’s new with you?”
Beckett. Except this wasn’t the time or place to announce the exciting turn of events in her own life. Not when her best friend was suffering from a broken heart.
“Been busy with work,” she said, sidestepping the issue for now. “Hey, you know what we need? We need a full-on girls’ night again. We’ll go to that spa you love and get our nails done, and I’ll even do a yoga class with you. Then I’ll order us takeout from that Italian place you love, and we’ll grab your favorite treats from Sweet Spot after the spa. We’ll go to your place and binge on movies all night. We’ll make it a weekend night so I can stay over. We can make up beds in front of the fireplace, then I’ll make us French toast in the morning. How’s that sound?”
The first stirrings of a real smile lit Molly’s face. “I would really love that.”
“Me too, it’s been too long. You just say when, and we’ll make it happen.”
“I’ll let you know once I get my new work schedule tomorrow. And aw, I love that you would do yoga for me. I know how much you hate it,” she said, her eyes now brimming with silent laughter.
Sierra grinned, glad to see a bit of sparkle back in her friend’s eyes. Molly would get through this. And Sierra hoped she would be happier for it soon. “Babe, there’s not much I wouldn’t do for you.”
They both dug into their late lunches. A few bites in, the sound of running footsteps caught her attention. She and Molly both glanced over in time to see Beckett racing toward the Emergency entrance.
Sierra stood so fast her chair almost toppled over in her haste. “Beckett.”
He darted a glance over at her and slowed, and the fear in his eyes sent a jolt of alarm through her. “It’s my dad. He’s… I don’t know what’s going on. I gotta go.” He turned and rushed through the automatic doors.
God. Sierra looked at Molly. “Should I…”
Molly flapped a hand at her with a worried frown. “Yes, go. I’ll meet you up there and find out what’s going on.”
Sierra hurried for the elevator, dread gathering in the pit of her stomach. Beckett was a private person. This recent change in their relationship was so new and fragile, because she wasn’t sure where they stood yet and hadn’t talked about it. She didn’t want to invade his privacy at a time like this, but she also wanted to be there for him, and if this was as bad as she feared, she didn’t want him going through it alone.
When she reached the palliative floor the door to Mr. Hollister’s room was shut. A nurse bustled out of it as Sierra approached, stripping off a pair of latex gloves.
Sierra paused there in the hallway, her stomach sinking as she met the nurse’s gaze. “Is he…”
The nurse gave her a sympathetic smile. “Won’t be long now.”
Oh, God. She took a breath to steady herself, even as shock reverberated inside her. How? Beckett had just taken him out, and based on the pictures she’d seen, they’d had a ball together. How could Mr. Hollister have gone downhill so fast?
“Are you a friend of the family?” the nurse asked.
“Yes.”
“His son’s with him right now. Maybe wait a bit, give him some time alone. This is a shock for him.”
Sierra nodded, aching for Beckett. She stood in the hallway for a few minutes, then walked slowly toward the closed door. Footsteps sounded behind her and she glanced back to find Molly coming toward her. “Hey,” she said quietly. “What did you find out?”
“It was a stroke,” Molly answered, coming to stand in front of her. “Happened less than an hour ago. He was fine, had just finished his lunch when it happened. A nurse was in the room with him. There was nothing anyone could do. He’s in a coma now, and not expected to survive the night.”
“Ah, shit,” she whispered. She wanted to hold Beckett so badly. This was going to slice him bone deep.
Molly drew her into a hug, which was so like her, offering warmth and comfort even when her own world was falling apart. “I’m so sorry. He had a DNR on file. It’s just a waiting game now.”
Sierra leaned her forehead on her friend’s shoulder. “Poor Beckett.”
“I know.” Molly eased back. “You going in there with him?”
“I’m not sure if he’ll want me there.”
Molly nodded. “Just give him a little while to himself, maybe. Did you call Noah yet?”
Her brother. She hadn’t been thinking. “I’ll do that now.”
“Okay. I’m due back on shift now, but I’ll check back when I can. If you guys need me for anything, have one of the nurses up here page me.”
“I will.” She dialed her brother as soon as Molly turned to go and told him what was going on. She was still standing in the hallway, hovering near the door when Noah arrived minutes later. “That was fast,” she told him, accepting the hug he offered.
“Called in one of my deputies to cover for me.” He glanced at the shut door. “How’s Beckett?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t gone in yet. Think we should?”
Noah nodded. “We’re family.” He strode for the door, Sierra right behind him, her stomach clenched into a giant knot. Noah knocked gently and pushed it open. Beckett glanced up from his father’s bedside, his face drawn. “Hey, Beck. You feel like some company?”
Beckett didn’t answer. His gaze moved from Noah to her, and the pain embedded there broke her heart. He’d been through so much already with losing his mom as a boy, hadn’t had an easy life during his time in Special Forces, and it was hard to see him hurting like this again. She wanted so badly to ease his suffering, to make this more bearable somehow.
“He had a stroke,” he said, his voice low and rough.
“I know. Molly got a report and came to tell me.” She walked over and lowered herself into the empty chair beside him, careful not to crowd him while Noah did the same on the opposite side of the bed.
Lying so still in the bed, Mr. Hollister appeared to be sleeping. He had no respirator or anything like that hooked up, and the nurses had turned off the heart monitor.
“He has a DNR in place,” Beckett finally said a minute later, his strong, bronzed fingers wrapped around his father’s frail hand. “He wouldn’t want this.”
Sierra nodded. “I know.” Unable to stand it, she slipped her hand out and curled it around his left one. The only good thing here was that his dad was no longer in any pain.
“We’re so sorry, Beck,” Noah said in a low voice.
Beckett nodded, still focused on his father. “He was so full of life when we were out on the dunes together. But after I brought him back here he said he was tired. I think… I think maybe he meant he was done fighting.”
Sierra swallowed past the growing restriction in her throat. “Maybe.”
“What do you need right now?” Noah asked him, leaning forward. “You want me to make some calls, or…?”
“Yeah. Could you call Jase and a few of the crew guys? Let them know I won’t be in tomorrow?”
“Of course. Anyone else?”
Beckett shook his head. “Can’t think of anyone else right now.”
“Okay, man. Back in a bit.” Noah rose, squeezed Sierra’s shoulder before leaving.
The quiet was stark and oppressive after the door shut behind her brother. She kept her hand curled around Beckett’s, feeling helpless.
“He would’ve hated this, you know,” he said. “Us sitting
here gawking at him, waiting for him to die.”
She winced at his blunt words. “I think it would have brought him a lot of comfort to know you were here with him.”
“He stayed with my mom until the end,” he said. “I got tired of sitting there, so I left. Wasn’t in the room when it happened. But he stayed.” His voice thickened. “So I’m staying with him now.”
She squeezed his hand, pressed her lips together. It tore her up to see him hurting. This tough, commanding man who meant so much to her. She didn’t want to be indelicate, but she had to ask. “What did the doctors say?”
“Could be minutes or hours. Not more than a day, they think.”
She nodded and remained silent for a while, just being there with him. For him. “What did he think of Walter, by the way?”
To her surprise, Beckett cracked a quiet laugh. “He got a kick out of him.” He shook his head, a faraway look in his eyes. “God, we had fun out there. He loved it. I hate that I left him cooped up in here for so long. I should’ve taken him out way before then. I should’ve—” He swallowed, cleared his throat and bowed his head. “I should have done a lot of things differently.”
“No. You’re an amazing son. He knows how much you love him.”
“Hope so. Never told him often enough. I can’t even remember what I said before I left earlier—” His voice cracked. He pulled his hand from hers just as Noah opened the door, and turned away from them as though embarrassed, scrubbing his palm over his face.
Sierra met Noah’s gaze. Her brother tipped his head to indicate she should follow him out and give Beckett some privacy, then slipped back into the hall.
Torn, Sierra stood, then laid a gentle hand on Beckett’s shoulder. His muscles were rock hard beneath her palm. “Tell him you love him now. I’ll be right outside if you need me.” She started to turn away, bit back a gasp of surprise when his hand flashed out to curl around her wrist. She looked back at him, her heart twisting at the agony etched in his face.