Blowing out a breath I grab the things off the table in one hand and take Dylan’s hand with my other, tugging him in the direction of the shower. I admit I’m surprised when he follows me without a protest.
With shaky fingers, I tug his shirt free from his pants and slide it up his chest. “Lean down,” I coax and slip the bloodstained material over his head.
“Stop,” he commands, pulling the shirt from my grasp and ripping it over his head. He throws it viciously on the floor. “Don’t treat me like a piece of china, Goddamnit.”
“Whoa. Don’t go biting my head off.”
He lets out a huff, unlacing his shoes and stripping out of the rest of his bloodstained uniform.
“Do you want to talk about what happened?” I ask as I reach into the shower stall and turn on the water.
“Does it fucking look like I want to talk about it, Zoey? My Goddamn partner is in the OR fighting for his fucking life. I’m covered in his blood. Do you really think I want to talk right now?”
“Fine, don’t talk. Get in the shower and wash off. I’ll wait,” I snap back a little harsher than I intended.
I know he’s hurting and lashing out, but his anger towards me is almost unexpected and cruel.
I’m shocked when he does as I said and steps under the water. He tosses his head back and sighs, pinching his eyes closed as a trail of crimson runs down his body, swirling onto the floor and disappearing into the drain. He’s silent as he roughly scrubs his body with soap and the washcloth the nurse left for him. Scrubbing until his skin is red and nearly raw.
When the water finally runs clear, he drops the soap and the rag and turns to me. “Come here,” his voice is sharp and firm.
Hesitantly, I step forward.
“I need you,” he barely whispers.
“I’m right here Dylan, you have me.” I keep my voice soft. “What do you need?”
“You. I need you, in here, with me. I need your body. To feel something. To fuck something. To somehow silence the fucking screaming in my head.” He reaches out before I have a chance to respond and pulls me into the water with him. In seconds my clothes are soaked, and he has me pinned to the wall, my hands above my head, his lips on mine.
“Dylan, we’re in a hospital locker room, are you sure…” He silences my protest with another kiss. As his free hand roams my body, fumbling with the zipper on my jean shorts then persuasively shoving them down.
“Do you want me to stop?”
My heart breaks. Even right now, when he needs me, needs to use me in such a primitive and selfish way; he’s still thinking about me. He’s still giving me an out. Reminding me that I’m in control. Even now, that much hasn’t changed.
I’d give my life for this man. Set aside my own needs for his if he asked. There’s no way I’d turn him down now. “No. I’m yours.”
That’s all the permission he needs. The thin wet fabric of my panties is torn from my body. He lets go of my hands to pull my legs up around his waist and without warning he slips inside me.
It’s different. Thrilling, forbidden. It’s clear that he’s using my body as an escape, but all that love and power that is Dylan still radiates from his body as he fucks me against the wall of a hospital shower, nonetheless.
His hand slips into the small space between our bodies and rubs at my sensitive flesh. My legs wrap tighter around him, and I arch my back against the wall as my toes curl. I can feel my orgasm rushing forward like a freight train as Dylan buries his face in my neck, pounding harder into me.
“I love you. I love you. I love you,” he chants as he thrusts inside of me. “So. Fucking. Much. Zoey.” He stills as he explodes inside of me, his body trembles and it takes me a moment to realize – it’s not only his orgasm that has his body shuddering. Dylan is crying against my shoulder. Sobs, racking his body. “I’m sorry,” he gasps weakly, before letting me down gently until my feet touch the floor once again.
I take his face in my hands and reach up on my tip toes to kiss him gently, pulling back to look in his eyes. He’s already shutting down again and retreating. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“Your shirt’s soaked. There was a pair of scrub bottoms on the table out there, I’ll grab those, and I have a spare shirt in my bag you can have,” he rambles as he shuts off the water and steps out of the shower, tying a towel around his waist.
Like that, we’re back to business it seems.
We both dress in dry clothes, in silence. He takes my wet clothes from me and tosses them in his bag before slipping on his gym sneakers.
I wipe off my wet flip flops with a towel and slip them back on. Considering everything else I had on is either wet or destroyed, I’m beyond thankful for the hair dryer that is laying on a nearby counter. I’m currently using it to dry my sheer bra because there is no way I’m stepping back out that door and facing his colleagues without one on.
It takes less than five minutes for the thin fabric to dry enough that I can wear it, but Dylan is already pacing like a caged animal.
“Can we go now?” He barks as I pull his shirt over my head.
I try not to roll my eyes at him. “Yes, Dylan, let’s go.” Using the hair tie on my wrist, I pull my still damp hair up on top of my head as I follow him out the door.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dylan
Life changes in the blink of an eye. I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that.
Each event that happens to us molds us.
Every breakup.
Every makeup.
Every loss.
Every gain.
Defines us as a person.
A split-second decision can forever alter the course of fate.
In the line of duty, those split-second choices can save a life.
Rhys could die tonight because he tried to save mine.
I should be the one fighting to survive.
“Dispatch to 4789, barricade situation 321 South Main Street. Possible hostage. Tactical team in motion.”
Fuck. Not how you want to start a shift.
“4789 copies. In route.”
“Subject is a white male, approximately six feet two inches, dark brown hair. Considered armed and highly dangerous.”
“Copy.”
Rhys flips on the lights, and I press the gas pedal.
When we arrive on scene to full tactical response present.
Exiting our vehicle, we begin to gear up and listen as the SWAT Team Commander gives us the details.
These are the moments we train for.
“Mitchell, Smith, you two take the south side of the building. There’s a door over there that will lead you into the back of the room where this guy is holed up. Clear the area, do not breach the room until my command.”
“Yes, Sir,” we both reply and head off to the back of the building, carrying out our orders.
All too soon we both realize that there’s so much more at play here.
Something is off with this call. And there’s nothing we can do.
We’re hiding out outside of the room that the suspect is in when the sound of a woman’s scream has our blood running cold.
The command comes over the coms for us to breach the room.
Training could never prepare me for the carnage before me.
There is no time to think, only time to react.
Bullets are flying as we try to subdue the suspect. A team has entered from the front of the room, focused on freeing the woman.
The suspect turns to face us when the first bullet hits him.
That’s when I know who he is.
It happens in a blur, Rhys jumps in front of me and fires off a round before falling to the floor, screaming.
“Motherfucker.”
The suspect collapses to the ground as I fire another shot.
This time, he won’t make it out alive. Confident that he’s dead, I call in that I’ve got an officer down and grab the back of Rhys’ SWAT vest, dragging him out of the ro
om where I can access his wounds.
“You stupid son of a bitch. You had to be the hero,” I blurt out as I put pressure on the wound on his shoulder.
“Chicks dig scars, man.”
“You’re the only person I know who would crack jokes after being shot at.” I push harder, trying to stop the bleeding.
“Damn. That fucking hurts.”
“Stupid ass.”
“Smitty.” Meeting his eyes, I know it’s not good. “Tell her I love her.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.”
His face pales as his eyes roll back.
“Goddamnit, where the fuck is the medic?” I scream out, seconds before EMT’s rush in and push me out of the way.
There’s no way I’m losing another partner at the hands of Russell Ives.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Zoey
The ICU waiting room is barely big enough to contain the number of people in here tonight.
Dylan’s not talking.
The somber tone has everyone on edge.
There’s been no update on Rhys yet, and according to the whispers they’ve got Kelsey contained in another waiting room on the other end of the hall with Rhys’ family. I can’t help but wonder why Dylan’s not down there with them.
“I’m going to go check on Kelsey,” I finally tell him. I’ve had enough of waiting around feeling helpless.
He doesn’t answer me, not that I expected him too.
Stepping into the hallway, I ask the first nurse I see for directions to the other waiting room where I know Kelsey is.
“And you are?”
I know she’s doing her job, but her attitude makes me want to throttle her.
“I’m her sister.” Close enough anyway.
“But you were, in there.” She points to the room full of badges.
“I was, and now I’m going to check on my sister. See one of those men in there is my fiancé. So, you can see the predicament I’m in.” I lay on the emotions, and she takes the bait with a reluctant sigh.
“Straight down the hall, last door on the left.”
My best friend is curled up into a ball on one of the chairs, a white blanket draped over her shoulders and a box of tissues in her lap.
“Hey,” I whisper as I wrap my arms around her.
“He has to make it,” she croaks.
“He will. He’s too stubborn not to,” I try to reassure her.
Rhys’ mom sniffles, and I try to give her a comforting smile. “Can I get anyone anything?”
“We’re good, hun. We only need him to pull through.” Mrs. Mitchell wipes away a tear.
I nod.
“You should go be with Smitty, he needs you more. I’m okay here.”
Kelsey’s words sting. Fuck everyone for pushing me away right now. “I wanted to check on you,” I confess with a weak voice.
“I know. I’ll be okay. I’m sure Smitty is trying to hold it together. He’ll need you to be his rock,” Kelsey says back.
“Where’s Reid?”
“One of the other wives took him home for the night. He was sound asleep anyway. He knows who she is, we’ve had a few playdates. He should be okay.”
Another reminder of how separated I am from my best friend’s life at the moment.
“I’ll come back,” I tell her with one more hug.
~*~
“Alright, listen up,” Lieutenant Cassel, the same man from earlier steps back in the room. “Some of us have been down this road before. It’s a hazard of the job. That doesn’t make this time any easier. I’ve got the department chaplain available for any of you that choose to seek him out. I suggest you all do. Kevin and Lennon.” He looks at the two EMT’s standing against the far wall. “You boys did a great job tonight with one of our own. We’re all a team here. We’re nothing without you guys. Your captain said he expects you to check in with the chaplain too. It’s not optional.” Cassel turns back to the rest of the room. “I still don’t have much of an update on Mitchell. It’s going to be a long night. All hands are on deck covering for those of you that are here. There’s not much we can do here except wait. I have a feeling a lot of you will stay. I’m going to ask you all to go home at some point and get some rest. We all are going to need fresh minds in the next few days. We can’t accomplish that if we’re all here.”
Murmurs echo around the room. Some of the guy's nod. A few stand and exit, most of them stay.
Cole who had stepped out for coffee fifteen minutes ago returns with a stack of cups and two gallons from Dunkin Donuts. If I had to guess, he called in a favor.
After he’s set the coffee and cups on the table in the middle of the room, he walks toward Dylan and I. Leaning in he says something that only Dylan can hear, and Dylan shakes his head in agreement before trying to hide a tear that’s slipped down his face.
It feels like hours have ticked by before we see Lieutenant Cassel again. This time it seems there’s a small smile on his face.
“Good news.”
The entire room falls silent, completely entranced, waiting for Cassel’s next words.
“Mitchell is out of the OR and stable. They’re getting him settled into a room, and then they’ll let his family in to see him. After that, you can all go in, two at a time. Don’t stay for long because he’ll need his rest. He’s not awake yet, but it’s promising.”
Relief courses through my body as I lean over and wrap my arms around Dylan. With my head on his shoulder, I hear him mumble, “Thank fuck.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Zoey
Rhys is alive.
Awake and barking orders.
It took a week for him to wake up, but now that he’s fully awake and able to talk without a tube down his throat, he looks straight at Dylan.
“Go the fuck home.”
“Fuck you. You’re the one who nearly died on me,” he reminds him, while I try not to cry. “Did you think I was going to leave you here?”
“I’m alive. I plan on staying that way. Get out. Go home and shower. Eat and sleep. Then come back and see me so I can send Kelsey home.”
That makes me laugh. “That is not going to happen, and you know it.”
“She’s infuriating. And it will happen because I’m going to tell her to go get my boy. That will work. So, now. GET OUT.”
“Rhys!” Kelsey scolds as she walks back in his room from her assignment to get ice chips for Prince Charming over here.
“Hi, honey.” He gives her a flirty smile that has me rolling my eyes.
“I’ll be back, dickhead.” Smitty finally gives in.
We could both use some sleep.
At home and freshly showered, I’m just about to crawl into bed next to Dylan’s sleeping form when my cell phone rings.
“Officer Harold?”
“Ms. Daniels, I’m calling to give you some news.”
“Oh, okay. I’m ready when you are, I guess.”
“I know it’s been a rough few days for you and your friends, but I wanted to let you know that we’re officially closing your case. Your stalker won’t be a problem anymore.”
“What? I mean. That’s great, but did you catch him? Do I need to do anything?”
“Well, I am curious if the name Russell Ives means anything to you.”
“No. Should it?”
“It’s really quite a fucked-up situation, pardon my frankness. That said, Russell Ives was killed two days ago. We have every reason to believe that he was the man who was stalking you. There actually wasn’t much doubt that he was the person who has been sending you the messages, and he matches the description of your attacker as well.”
“You’re sure?” I ask in disbelief.
“We’re sure.”
Tears of joy roll down my face as I lean back against the bed for support. “I…I guess, thank you? I’m not sure what to say. I’m in shock right now.”
“That’s understandable. Take care of yourself, Ms. Daniels, I hope we don’t ever have to
meet like this again.”
“That makes two of us,” I say before we both hang up.
“Everything okay?” Dylan jumps upright, startling me.
“Oh gosh, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He grunts in response. “Who was on the phone?”
“Officer Harold. She said they’re closing my case.”
“Figured.”
Looking at Dylan, he doesn’t seem surprised. “You knew.”
“That they were closing your case? I assumed. After what went down, I’m not surprised.”
“Explain?” I ask, trying not to grow defensive about the fact that he’s withheld some type of information.
“There are some things I’ll never be able to unsee, Zoey. Things that I’ll take to my grave with me, to protect you. It’s not me pushing you away or being a dick. Before I say anything else though, I want to ask you one thing.”
“Okay…” I hesitate.
“When did the messages start? How long ago had all this happened, truly? I’m not asking out of anger or anything like that. I want to know.”
I take a minute and think back, “Six months ago, maybe?”
“About the time we got together, or shortly after?”
“Y-y-yes…” I scrunch my brows, unsure what he’s getting at.
Dylan swallows hard. “Fuck. Zoey, he wasn’t truly after you.”
“What? What do you mean he wasn’t after me?”
“Did Harold tell you his name?” he says as he reaches for my hand.
“Russell Ives, she asked if that name meant anything to me.”
“He’s the guy who killed Natalie,” his voice drops. “He was coming for you, as a payback, to get to me. Taking Natalie wasn’t enough. He wanted to take you away from me too.”
“How, how do you know all of this?”
“Cole. He does a whole lot more then you think.”
Closing my eyes, I take a few deep breaths as I let Dylan’s words sink in. Then everything clicks. “Wait …oh God, was Rhys involved in all of this too?”
“Two things,” he says as he gently cups my face with his hands. “Remember what I said about taking somethings to my grave, that’s one. Two, Russell Ives is a guy that’s been on our wanted list for years. Some shit went down, not knowing who the suspect was at the time, Rhys and I got called out. Shit got way out of hand, and he got a few shots off, hitting Rhys.”
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