Finding Stone (The Stone Brothers Series) (Volume 1)

by T. Saint John

  "Okay, I need to ask you a few questions. I’ll be quick." He responds with understanding. So maybe it's just one Stone brother who is an ass.

  "Can you give me any details on the shooter?" I shiver. Maddox sits down beside me. Everything that happened today comes crashing down on me. I try to keep the tears away, but fail. Maddox grabs my hand and wipes the tears from my cheek with his other.

  "We can do this later if you need time." The softness in his voice calms me.

  "I'd rather do it now." I cry out.

  "Okay. Do you remember any details?" He asks cautiously, like he is afraid to have me crying again. I smile.

  "Yes. He had piercing blue eyes. Not the beautiful kind the soulless kind. He had a swastika tattoo. Shaved head.

  And the initials AB under it." Again, I shiver recalling the details.

  "Thank you for the information. It matches the suspect we have in custody."

  "You caught him already?" I am shocked, but very happy though.

  " Yes, but Molly stay vigilant." He says matter of fact.

  "Should I be worried?"

  "Not right now, but you never know when gangs are involved. I just want you to stay safe." I feel better that this is more of a routine statement.

  Noah

  I watched her as she walks out. Every protective instinct I have comes to the forefront. I want to keep her close just to make sure she doesn't walk into a manhole. I know, though, that I can't be her protector. I can't be her anything.

  "Yo, Noah," Maddox says while waving his hand in front of my face.

  "What?" I ask, sullenly.

  "I was saying she is going to need protection detail," he says in all seriousness.

  "Why? I thought you caught the guys." I know I am giving away everything I feel about her right now.

  "We did, but she is the only one who can ID the shooter. Gangs kill witnesses, and criminals walk." He sounds concerned.

  "Fuck," is all I can say. Why her? She seems like a decent girl. I know she is easy to piss off. She has such vibrancy about her though, maybe that's the pull I feel. No matter what happens, she bounces back and loves life.

  "What kind of detail will she have? She needs round the clock protection, transportation to and from work," I demand.

  "Whoa... We can only do so much. Budget cuts and all. We will do drive-bys and check on her. We can't do around the clock. It's impossible," he protests.

  Shit. He has to do something. I corner my brother. "Find a way to keep her safe. I will pay for the protection. I know cops are always looking for side jobs. Just do what you can to keep her safe. She's new here. She shouldn't die here." My voice sounds pained.

  "Am I missing something?" He asks curiously.

  "No." I say hoping it's enough to satisfy his inquiry.

  "Hmm. Maybe I can start fucking her. I can keep her safe if I'm with her," he says pointedly.

  I know he is calling my bluff but the thought of anyone else fucking her sets me off. I place my arm firmly over his chest. "Don't fucking touch her. Don't fucking talk about fucking her." I look him in the eyes and the asshole is smiling.

  "Relax. I saw Sarah's expression when she left. I saw Molly's anger when I entered. You get caught with your hand inside the cookie jar?" He asks while laughing.

  "Shit. Go I have work to do."

  Chapter 10

  Molly

  Walking to work a few days later, I feel paralyzed with fear. I hate feeling this way. I know the whole thing was random. I know that I wasn’t the target. I’ve been told they caught the shooter. I wish I had someone that I could talk to, someone who would understand how I am feeling. Calling my parents or Kelly is out of the question. They already worry enough with me being in a “big city” by myself. If they found out what happened, they would want me to move back home.

  While making my rounds, I hear my name being called. "Hey Molly, can you help me in here?" I recognize him. I know his name now - it's Brayden. He saved me from the shark.

  "Yes, what can I help you with?" I notice he is sitting next to a little girl who is about four.

  "Princess Ellie here is afraid of this shot. I told her if she let me give it to her without moving, she would get a Popsicle. I need you to talk to her so I can give it to her." He winks and I know the moment she makes eye contact with me he is going to jab her.

  "Well, Princess Ellie, I'm Molly. My favorite ones are the grape ones. Do you like grape?" I ask.

  "No, I like the green ones," she replies. I make a yuck face and she giggles.

  "In that case, if it's alright with your mommy, I can give you two." I look at her mom who nods and then she looks to her mom. I see Brayden squeeze her arm. He's good. Shot over with no crying.

  "Did you see that mommy? I didn't cry." Her mom smiles, "Yes, baby. I am so proud of you."

  "Well let me go get you your green popsicles." I run over to the freezer and return with the popsicles.

  Afterwards, Brayden and I walk over to the nurse’s station together. "Thanks for your help in there. I had been sitting there with her for over ten minutes. She is a smart one and a talker,” he laughs.

  "It's no problem. Just ask if you need anything else," I say.

  "It's lunch time. You want to go have lunch?" He asks. I almost say no, but he is the only one who has spoken to me and shown any friendliness since I started here.

  I agree and anyways, I'm starving. I haven't eaten much this week. The stress of the new job, the shooting, and Dr. Hotty Asshole has kept my stomach in knots.

  Walking through the line, I decide to go with a chicken sandwich, a bag of chips and a diet Coke. I catch Brayden looking at me. He seems shy but I can tell he has something on his mind. Once we find a table, he starts talking.

  “You doing okay? You know, after the shooting?” I want to scream and cry no, but I need this. He’s the first person to ask me how I’m doing.

  “Yeah. I’m fine. It was scary. I am so happy they caught the guys.”

  “Something tells me you aren’t fine. I am here to talk if you want.”

  “Thanks. I appreciate it. More than you know.” I’m feeling emotional and don’t want to cry during our first lunch date. I decide to change the subject.

  "Are you from around here?" That's a conversation starter right?

  "Yep, born and raised on the Southside. I commute everyday from Oak Park," he says.

  "Cool. I just moved here and decided on apartment around the corner." I tell him. Give and take right?

  "Where are you from?"

  "A very small town in Northeastern Kentucky. Population 1,596," I sigh, missing my hometown.

  "WOW! That is small. What brought you here?"

  "Well, Chicago is my five-year plan. I wanted a change. After high school, I did a missionary trip. While I was there, I realized Kentucky was all that I knew. I wanted the experience of city life. I plan to go back eventually. You know when it's time for kids, marriage, and all that. I’m sure Chicago is a fine place to raise kids, but I want my children to have what I had growing up."

  "You have a boyfriend?"

  "No. I don't think I can handle any more pressure right now. How about you? Do you have a girlfriend?"

  "No," he sighs.

  "What's the sigh about? You interested in someone?"

  "I've been interested in someone for the last three years."

  "And? Does she know?"

  "Nope. Maybe she does. I don't know."

  "Three years? Have you asked her out?”

  "No."

  "Why?" He seems so sad by all this.

  "Well, look at me?"

  I am looking and I see a good-looking guy. He is Asian. I'm not going to be rude and make an assumption about his ethnicity. No doubt about it though, he is hot.

  "I am looking, and your point is?"

  "She's white."

  "Okay? What the hell does that matter?" I'm completely confused now.

  "Look, you know the stereotypes: black guys have big dicks,
Latinos make the best lovers, Filipinos are brainy with small penises," he says smiling.

  I can't help it; I crack up. I love this guy. "Well are the stereotypes true?" I nudge his arm while laughing. “Hey, I'm nosey.”

  "Whoa, whoa... of course not. I am talking The Hulk size," he is laughing and I know he is going to make a great friend. I can tell that I will be able to be myself around him.

  "Seriously, then what's the hang up? Would your family be upset?" I ask curiously because I know some parents can be old school when it comes to stuff like this.

  "My parents will be cool with whomever I date or marry."

  "Okay. So why?"

  "I've worked with her for three years. She has never given me the impression she was interested."

  "Well, I'm certain if she is single, she'd probably date you. She would be stupid not to." He isn't overly tall, maybe 5'9, his build is hot as hell. I can see his arm muscles and broad shoulders.

  "Would you? Not that I am asking but I think I need an ego boost.”

  "Yeah. I can tell you what your problem is though. You immediately give off the friendship vibe, which is why I am sitting here with you. If you want a girl, don't go in being nice. Flirt. Us girls want nothing more than to feel wanted.”

  "Interesting, twenty-seven years I've been put in the friend zone. Thanks." He gets up to empty our trays. Hot and chivalrous, yes, please.

  "Hey. You wanna do lunch again tomorrow?" I ask because he's just what I need in my life. A hot male friend I can be myself around.

  "I'd like that. Even if I'm not getting my girl, at least I have one hour to look forward to," he smiles.

  "Hey, I'm going to Hansons tomorrow with some people I recently met. You're in that category now. I would love for you to come."

  "Sure, I'll be there. What time?"

  "9pm."

  “Now that we are sort of friends. I mean, we are meeting up at a bar. Are you sure you’re okay with everything? I mean, with the shooting?

  “I will be. It’s a lot to sort through. Its sucks what fear can do to a person.”

  “That is a lot to process. I guess I’ve grown immune to violence. It’s Chicago and unfortunately, it’s a common thing. Maybe not to the extent you witnessed. I will never understand. I’m sorry you were there.” With that, I start bawling like a big baby. He wraps his arm around me. I know I shouldn’t use him as a fill in therapist. He’s all I have right now.

  “Brayden, could I maybe call you? If I want to talk? It’s just I don’t have anyone here.”

  “Well we are in the friends zone so of course.” He smiles.

  Noah

  I am coming out of the office when I witness Brayden and Molly in the hallway. She is crying and he has his arm around her. What happened now? I hope it isn’t Avery.

  “Incoming. Construction worker fell from second story. ETA five minutes.” Katherine yells. I take off to the ambulance bay. Brayden comes out to wait with me.

  “Wonder what we are going get? I bet broken back.” Brayden always loves a good trauma. He doesn’t pick the easy cases.

  “As long as it’s not another gunshot.” I say.

  “Yeah. No gunshots. After the other day, I think it’s enough.”

  “It was chaos.”

  “Yeah. I hate that the new girl was there. She’s really nice.” Brayden says and instantly I am jealous.

  “I saw her crying. Is she doing okay?”

  “No. I feel bad. She is here all alone. I gave her my number. She said she didn’t have anyone and she’s scared.”

  I feel like a total douchebag. Why didn’t I go that route of being friends instead of kissing her? I don’t want her to call Brayden. I don’t want her either. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve gone nuts. Certifiably insane.

  Molly

  Finally, Friday. I have made it through yet another day. Brayden and I had lunch again today. We talked about our families this time.

  I learned he is the only boy and has five sisters. That must explain the ease I feel with him. I tried to get him to reveal his crush. He wouldn't. I can rule out Avery. I asked him if it was she and he looked at me and said, “ I wouldn’t touch that skank with a ten foot pole!”

  I am about to finish my charting, along with Missy, a nurse who works part-time. She doesn't say much. I don't take it personally because she seems to always be very quiet. I like her, though, because she is one of the few people who don't laugh when someone makes a snide comment towards me. She offered me a reassuring smile earlier when I asked where the lap pads were and that twat Avery said that I need to start learning where stuff is. I wanted to say "DUH, that is why I am asking."

  "They're jealous, you know," I hear her say, pulling me out of my state of irritation.

  "Who? Jealous of me?"

  "Yes, you. The other nurses are jealous." She says it so quietly that I find myself leaning closer toward her.

  "Why? I haven’t done anything."

  "They see the way the men look at you. In particular, Dr. Stone."

  "There isn't anything going on." Great! Gossip. I am the mistress slutty nurse. Just great! I hate gossip. Well, at least if it's about me.

  "I know. I believe you. My name is Missy. Sorry I haven’t introduced myself before."

  I like her, especially since she didn't jump on the gossip about Molly wagon. "Thank you, Missy."

  "No problem. I just didn't want to see you fall into a trap of theirs. Myself, I keep my head down and do my work so I can go home." Yep, she sounds just like me, trying to get in and out without rocking the boat. Well, at least that's me when I'm not in trouble.

  "Missy, would you like to come out with me tonight? I am meeting some friends over at Hansons. I know we don't know each other but I appreciate you not believing the rumors," I ask, hoping she will say yes. I need all the friends I can get.

  "I think I can get my mom to watch my son," she says and I am surprised.

  "You have a son? I would have never guessed. How old is he?"

  "No one does. No one talks to me. Guess if you don't fit the bitchy mold or help to spread gossip, then you're not interesting enough. He's seven.”

  "I want to say congratulations and I don't know why," I laugh. I wonder how old she is. Surely, she can't be more than a year older than I am.

  "Well, thanks on the congratulations. Its seven years late, but I appreciate it," she laughs. It's so giddy I have to laugh too.

  "9 p.m., be there," I say putting away my chart. I'm excited. I'm making new friends and I'm starting to feel like I'm a part of something.

  I'm ready to have some fun and let loose.

  Noah

  Molly is walking out the door. I need to talk with her. After talking with Brayden, I realized that I never checked on her afterwards. I’ve been in Iraq. I’ve seen shit that would eat a person alive. To someone like me, what happened here took no time to get over. I hate the loss of any innocent life. As harsh as this may sound it’s just life. Molly hasn’t seen the things I’ve seen. I can’t image what’s it’s doing to her. I feel like a douche.

  “Molly? I’d like a moment if that’s okay?”

  “Is this work related?” she is reminding me that she only wants to speak to me if it’s work related. Why did I kiss her?

  “Well, yeah I guess, I wanted to see how you’re doing.”

  “I feel like I am learning how this E.R. works.”

  “I mean how are you doing after the shooting. Any nightmares? We have grief counselors if you’d like.”

  “Nightmares? Not too bad. A few, but I’ll be okay. I just need time to get my head straight.”

  “You should talk to someone.”

  “Like who, Dr. Stone? You? Are you ordering me too?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes. That’s all.”

  I watch her walk away. It takes everything in me to not follow her. I need to stop thinking about her. No, I need to get laid.

  Chapter
11

  Molly

  When I got home, I called my parents. Dad was going on about the high school football team. Every year he holds out faith that the Rams will make it to state. They never do. Apparently the team started two a days. Yes, my dad goes to most practices in the summer.

  I don't care too much about football, but I enjoy hearing about my old high school. Mom is trying her hand at baking. I cringe.

  Growing up, I was very thankful for the church folks who would bring over dinners. My mom is amazing. Her cooking is not.

  After hanging up, I go to my closet to try to pick the perfect outfit. After twenty minutes of rummaging, I decide on a tan baby doll dress. It has a shelf bra and it comes to the middle of my thigh. Not too short and it doesn't make me look like a nun. I pick out my favorite pair of cowgirl boots. They've not been worn since being here.

  I blow out my long hair and add a few large loose curls. I don't want to wear too much make-up because I plan on dancing and sweating tonight. I put on a little mascara and some lip-gloss, strawberry, of course.

  It's 8:30. I hate waiting when I am this excited. This week has gone by so fast. I feel like I have lived a lifetime in five days.

  Thankfully, I've thought very little about Dr. Hotty Asshole. He speaks to me in a way no one else has. I thought there might be something between us. I just didn't think that something would be another woman.

  I need to clear him from my mind because I don't want to be depressed. I decide I need to forgive him, not for the kissing part but for the yelling and making me feel like a child. I don't know what's going on in his life. Whatever it is, it seems to be killing him. I don't want to add to his stress.

  I want to take my time walking to Hansons. I need to unwind. I can feel the tension building up. I look over to see a cop car. I wave because it's the polite thing to do. A uniformed cop comes over.

  "Where are you off to?" Why does it matter to him?

  "Just going over to Hansons." I only tell him because he's a cop.

  "Well be careful on your way home later. Drunks are always out late at night."