by Dana Mentink
Rico glared.
“You were planning an ambush?” Marco shook his head. “You’d need more guys for that, a lot more, and we’d beat you anyway, just the three of us.”
Dev strolled in, hauling Shoe Guy by the back of his shirt. The prisoner struggled, but Dev had his hands secured behind his back with a zip tie.
Marco laughed. “Hey, there. Nice to see you again. We gotta stop meeting like this.”
The guy started in on a string of profanities until Dev nudged him in the back. “Such language,” he said. “You need to work on that, my man.”
Rico shot him a look of utter disgust.
“I didn’t see him coming,” Dev’s prisoner muttered.
“’Course you didn’t,” Dev said with a grin. “I’m a SEAL, dude. That’s like a superhero, only cooler.”
“Bear’s outside waiting,” Marco could not resist adding. “He’s been looking for you. He wants another shoelace to play with.”
Dev’s glance shifted to Rico. “Got this?”
“Right behind you. Secure your prisoner outside and Bear will watch him. Wave the cops in.”
Dev exited with his captive. Marco edged nearer to Rico. “So where were we? That’s right. You were getting down on the floor slow and easy.”
Rico didn’t move. “So you think it’s over, huh?”
“Affirmative. You’re done threatening Candace and Tracy and anybody else. Prison time.”
“I got friends in prison,” he spat.
“And you got people you crossed there, too.”
Rage flickered in Rico’s face. He threw down the binoculars and reached for his gun. Marco reacted, kicking out, catching Rico in the elbow, causing the weapon to drop to the floor. Marco launched it away with his foot and then he was crashing against him, pushing him against the wall, holding him secure with one hand while he checked for concealed weapons with the other.
“Game’s over,” he hissed into Rico’s ear. “Good guys for the win.”
* * *
Candace held Tracy so tightly she squirmed. “Mommy, you’re squeezing me.”
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t want to let her child out of her hold, but had a deep sense that it wouldn’t be over until she witnessed Rico’s arrest.
Dan drove the car to the front of the warehouse, where the police had set up a perimeter. Dev was keeping Bear in check at the end of a sturdy leash as the dog barked in displeasure at being kept again from his quarry.
“Where’s Unco?” Tracy said, as Candace got out of the car.
“Stay with Grandma and Auntie Angela. I’ll be right back.”
“Candace...” Dan started.
“I need to see this,” she said, and after a moment he nodded. She would be there when Marco took Rico from the warehouse. He’d already radioed in that he’d captured Rico and was bringing him out. Candace felt a burning desire to look into her tormentor’s face when he was put into a police car. She moved forward a few paces until she was stopped by an officer.
“Stay back, please.”
She looked past him to the gym. The door opened. Marco pushed Rico past the threshold and he walked out, expression defiant, as if he didn’t believe he was about to be arrested.
Believe it, Rico. You will never hurt me or mine again. Marco stood behind, his face obscured by his baseball hat. She hoped he felt the same heady sense of satisfaction that she did. Things would be different for them now, she felt, deep down inside. Joy, warmth, satisfaction, relief and love all mingled together in her soul.
An officer came forward to handcuff Rico.
She heard the snap of one cuff encircling his wrist and it sounded like music. After all the struggle and fear, they had won, beaten back the enemy and were safe. She would never take that feeling for granted again.
The cop suddenly jerked back as Rico grabbed the gun from his holster. He fired and the gunshot ripped through the night. Rico took off running in the direction of the car, head down, moving faster than she’d believed possible. Guns were drawn and aimed at Rico, but the cops didn’t fire; they couldn’t, without hitting the car or Candace.
She acted without thinking, grabbing the bat from the backseat. Her mother tried to hold her, but she broke free, whirled, and just as Rico brought the gun up to fire again, swung as hard as she could, her terror and fear all rolled into one massive stroke of the bat. She caught Rico in the knees. He tumbled over and over, coming to rest on his back, the gun skittering several yards away. He looked up at her, dazed and defeated, grunting in pain.
Tears stung her eyes and triumph, sweet and strong, swept her body from head to toe. “That’s your last ring,” Candace said, breathing hard. “Don’t bother calling again.”
The police surged forward and held Rico down while they properly cuffed him.
JeanBeth was out of the car, staring, stunned, her hands pressed to her mouth. Angela held Tracy, who was crying. Candace wanted to run to her, but something, some prickle of dread, made her turn. Behind the circle of cops, people were shouting, a sense of urgency in their voices. She moved forward slowly at first and then at a sprint, shoving past the cop who tried to stop her, all the jubilation she’d felt before morphing into a dark cloud of dread.
“What it is?” she panted. The cop standing nearest the gathered group didn’t answer.
She saw Dev, face twisted under his bush of beard, Bear whining pitifully and hauling at the leash.
The cluster of officers parted.
Marco lay on the ground, limbs sprawled, eyes staring unseeing at the sky.
TWENTY-FIVE
Marco didn’t feel pain in his chest where the bullet had plowed into him. His mind was oddly disconnected from his body. Blurry outlines of people flickered in and out, cops then paramedics. They removed his vest and began treating him, trying to stop the bleeding, he suspected, though he couldn’t feel any of their efforts.
Odd, he thought, that he couldn’t feel.
“No!”
He heard the cry and he knew it was Candace.
It’s okay, he wanted to tell her. Tracy is safe. But his lips wouldn’t move. Her face swam into his field of vision, stricken with grief, perfect brown eyes filled with tears that spilled down, splashing on his cheeks. How he wished he could experience the warmth of those tears.
“Marco!” she screamed.
He wanted to reach up and soothe her, to let his fingers linger in her unruly curls, but his arms wouldn’t work.
A paramedic edged her aside. “Ma’am, step back now,” he said.
Ask her, don’t order her, Marco thought.
“Marco, don’t you die, do you hear me?” she yelled at him. “Please—” Her voice broke. “Please don’t leave me.”
Yes, ma’am, he wanted to say, but now he was feeling something, a hard pain in his chest, as if someone had hammered a nail into his heart. The sensation deepened, expanding to strip away every other sensation except excruciating pain. The voices around him grew louder, more intense, and then there was nothing at all.
* * *
Two days after the shooting, Candace let Tracy see Marco for a few minutes. She had explained as best she could about the injuries Marco had sustained when Rico grabbed the cop’s gun and shot him.
“Unco was hurt badly. He had an operation to fix his heart and he hasn’t woken up yet.”
“Is he gonna get better?” she asked with trembling lips. It hurt Candace to look at her.
The doctor’s words came back to her. Touch and go. Massive blood loss. Fifty-fifty. “We’re going to pray and God’s going to decide.”
“But what if He lets Unco die like Daddy did?”
Then Marco would die knowing that they cared about him, she and Tracy, but not knowing the full truth. Her own words to him cam
e back in heart-wrenching detail. I don’t want you here, or in my life or Tracy’s. She swallowed hard and forced a calm mommy smile.
“It will be okay. I know Unco wants to see you, even if he can’t say it.” Her throat constricted and her palms shook as she kissed and hugged her daughter. She led her into the room where Marco lay, eyes closed, with an oxygen mask over his face, his chest bandaged and an IV affixed to his arm. Various monitors tracked his vital signs, beeping softly like a kind of monotonous music.
Tracy climbed up on a chair to kiss Marco on the forehead above the mask.
“Wake up, Unco,” she said. “I want to talk to you.”
But there was no flicker of consciousness from him, no twitch to indicate he knew they were there. Together they prayed for God to bring Marco back to them. Tracy sang him a song she’d learned from the music teacher at school about a monkey and a bunch of bananas.
When she sensed Tracy had had enough, Candace helped her down from the chair and urged her toward the door.
“Wait,” Tracy said. She took from her pocket the little pink bunny Marco had made and pressed it into his hand, folding his thick fingers around the tiny wooden body. “I’ll leave this to keep him company until he gets better.”
Candace fought for composure. “I know he’d like that.”
Angela took Tracy home to stay with their mother, and Candace settled into the chair next to Marco’s bed. She straightened the sheets around his torso and traced a gentle finger over the healing scratches on his face.
Dev peeked his head in the door, looking ridiculously casual in baggy shorts, flip-flops and a T-shirt with Beach Bum emblazoned across the chest. He hardly seemed the same person who’d been bristling with battle gear only two days before.
“Hey, Gumdrop,” he said. “Captain Ma’am said I’d find you here. Shipping out today since our bird is finally fixed.”
She got up and hugged him tightly, fighting tears. “I never got to thank you for what you did getting my daughter back and helping Marco.”
He looked at his feet. “Shouldn’t have ended like that. Should have seen it going bad earlier.”
“It’s not your fault. More mine than anyone else’s. He wouldn’t have been involved in any of it if it wasn’t for me.”
“Aww, Chief wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Ever since I’ve known him, he’s always talked about you and Tracy.” Dev’s expression was wistful. “I kinda wished I had something like that to come home to. It helps us do what we do, knowing that there’s good stuff back home. You were that good stuff for Chief. Still are.”
She bit her lip to keep from crying.
“Anyway, I just popped in to give my regards.” He noticed the wooden rabbit poking out of Marco’s hand. It sent him into a paroxysm of laughter. Candace watched, bemused, until his guffaws subsided and he wiped his eyes.
“What is so funny?”
“Old Boo-boo Bunny’s got another rabbit in his hands.”
She blinked at Dev. “What?”
His grin was mischief itself. He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “That’s Chief’s nickname. When we first served together he was learning how to do woodcarving so he could make those rabbits for Tracy. He wasn’t very good at it, at first, and he kept nicking his hands. Even needed stitches one time, so we called him Boo-boo Bunny. Oh man, the whole unit teased him mercilessly.”
She could only gape. “You’re kidding. Boo-boo Bunny?”
“Yep, and he threatened me and Lon with unimaginable bodily injury if we ever revealed this information to anyone.”
Candace put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “I never would have guessed that, for sure.”
Dev drew close to the bed. “Hear that, Chief?” he murmured in Marco’s ear. “I just blabbed your nickname, so whatcha gonna do about it, huh?” His smile grew sad when there was no response. “Okay. You just sit there and take it. I’m shipping out anyway, but next time I’m in town, I’m gonna be disappointed if you don’t make good on your threat, you hear?” He lightly squeezed Marco’s shoulder and whispered, “Don’t forget, Chief. Every time.”
She knew he was reminding Marco of the SEAL creed. “When knocked down,” she remembered Marco saying in the past, “I will get up...every time.”
Dev kissed her cheek and left. Candace stood by Marco’s bed, stroking his forearm.
“So now you’ve got to listen to me, don’t you?” she said, her voice wobbling. “You’re a captive audience, since you’ve decided not to awaken for a while. Well, I’ve got some things to tell you, Marco Quidel, and I’m not going to stop until you keep your word and get back up.”
Swallowing down the tears, Candace began to talk. She told him all the secret longings of her heart, which transcended guilt, the past and every other obstacle that had stood between her and Marco over the years. She talked and prayed for hours, as the nurses’ shifts changed and the day turned into evening, thanking him for what he’d done for her, explaining how she’d learned about honor and sacrifice from him, from Rick, from her father.
When she ran out of words, she kissed his cheek, then laid her head against his chest and listened to the beating of his poor injured heart. “Are you ready to wake up now, Marco? For me and Tracy?”
There was no answer, and she was about to move so her tears wouldn’t wet the sheets. Then she felt the pressure of Marco’s big hand as he laid it gently on her shoulder.
“Marco,” she breathed, throat tight. “You’re alive.” Joy enveloped her in a fierce grip.
“Mostly, anyway,” he whispered.
She kissed his cheeks, his chin, his forehead, and finally his lips. Happiness coursed through her. God had spared his life. He kissed her back, so tenderly it was like a sweet breeze blowing through her soul.
Marco stroked her hair and pulled her face to his chest. His breath hitched in pain and her heart broke, thinking of how much anguish she’d caused Marco Quidel.
“Does it hurt very badly?”
He grimaced. “No worse than a hatchet to the sternum.”
She cried some more, overwhelmed at seeing those copper eyes open again, his mouth smiling at her through the pain. “I love you,” she heard herself say.
Wonder and confusion warred in his eyes. He put his hand behind her head and pressed her lips to his again. “I’ve always loved you, Candace,” he said. “But I know that... I understand your heart belongs to Rick.”
His name struck her like a blow. She felt dizzy, confused, unmoored. What was she doing? How could she have said she loved Marco? Guilt sliced through her joy. “I do love you,” she whispered. “But I...”
“I understand. Really,” he said. “You don’t have to say it.”
“I just can’t let you replace Rick in our lives.” Tears coursed down her face and onto the hospital sheets. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”
But how could it be okay for her to love him so completely without betraying the memory of the man she’d promised to cherish until her dying day?
His arms were warm comfort around her back and she knew he forgave her for hurting him.
Relief, pain, longing, grief, guilt and love swirled inside until she felt dizzy.
She thanked God for the blessing Marco Quidel had been in her life, and offered heartfelt gratitude that his life had been restored.
* * *
Five days before Thanksgiving, Marco picked Bear up from the backyard at Donna’s place, where the dog had been staying, and gingerly got in the truck to make his way back to the Semper Fortis. His chest burned with three-alarm pain, but he’d decided to leave the hospital in spite of the doctor’s advice. He couldn’t stand the way the Gallagher girls were tiptoeing around, talking softly and fussing with his blankets as if he wasn’
t even in the room. Sarah was back from her honeymoon, and since she was a surgical nurse, she’d taken to reading his reports and scanning his chart every day. Embarrassing.
More importantly, he was unsure of what was memory and what was a product of his surgery-addled mind. His brain replayed snatches of Candace caressing his face and speaking, her words tender, her voice thick with emotion. That was more than likely bits of daydreams that had lodged in his head, he figured. She’d said she loved him and he’d said the same, unless he’d imagined the whole thing. Her subsequent visits to his hospital room were awkward, her face flushed, her hands searching for things to do, their conversation strained. He remembered one phrase clearly. “I can’t let you replace Rick in our lives.” And he wouldn’t want to. He’d allow his own happiness to end before he intruded on another man’s family. In spite of his mending heart, he felt oddly dead inside.
Tracy was the only one who spoke in a normal fashion to him, poking a finger at his bandage and asking when he would be well enough to take her fishing. Today, now, right now, he wanted to tell her, but nothing had changed, not really. He was still leaving, only this time he could do it without any lingering worry. Rico was in jail and Champ had been arrested, also, for arranging their ambush at the chop shop. The Packs and Cliffs were busily clashing over top dog status, but that was a problem he’d happily leave for the police to sort out.
He parked at the marina and got out of the truck, an action that hurt way more than it should have, before he set off at a slow walk. Halfway to the dock, he sat on a bench to rest, grateful there were no people around to see him panting. Rico’s shot had taken more out of him than Marco would ever admit to.
“Coming aboard?”
The voice startled him to a standing position. He thought he might be hallucinating at first, but it really was Candace Gallagher perched on the top railing of the dock in a pair of cutoff jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt, his baseball cap trapping her curls. Bear galloped off to lick her shins in exchange for the nice ear rub she provided.