Adam, Enough Said (This Can't be Happening)

by LeeAnne, Lynda

  Hazel eyes set Adam down and I ran, fell to my knees by his side, touched his chest and his shoulders, before I picked up his hand and clenched it tightly in mine.

  His entire face contorted in pure misery.

  “Adam, I’m here. Can you hear me? I’m right here.”

  But it was Hazel eyes I heard speak, “I kept my word, Sirenita. Now you keep yours. You never saw me…Ambulance is almost here.”

  He called the ambulance?

  By the time I twisted to look at him, all I got was his retreating back.

  I turned back to Adam, snatched a kitchen towel off the counter and placed it over Adam’s stab wound on his side.

  He groaned and blood seeped through the towel to my fingers, but I didn’t look for fear I’d faint.

  “Adam, you with me?” I rushed and when he wouldn’t open his eyes I screamed, “Answer me!”

  “Jesus, Baby, fuck! Stop screaming," he hissed through his teeth, but he finally opened his eyes and they locked with mine.

  I smiled through my tears, kept one hand over his wound and wiped the sweat off his clammy forehead with the other. I knew he was in pain, but I couldn’t stop myself from kissing his lips.

  “I love you,” I cried and my lips quivered. “I love you so damn much, Adam. Do not die on me. I need you.”

  I vaguely heard sirens in the background.

  His eyes closed again, as if it was too difficult to keep them open, but he still managed to whisper, “My heart, Freckles. I fuckin’ love you.”

  And then his body relaxed and I ordered, “Adam, don’t leave me.”

  When his breathing slowed and I cried, “Adam, please.”

  When his hand released mine, I knew I lost him.

  “No,” I whispered through my tears.

  I heard footsteps from somewhere in the house, and then I was being lifted from Adam’s body. I glanced down at all the blood covering the floor… my hands…

  And then everything went black.

  One week later

  Mia Bryant

  “Mrs. Bryant, are you sure you don’t know where the weapon came from?” Officer Spencer asked for the tenth time this week and I wanted to slap him across his self-righteous face.

  “No, I told you. I have no idea.” My voice was dead.

  “So, you’re telling me you have no idea that Alfredo “Freddy” Lopez was involved in the murder of Max Lowe?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.” Again, dead.

  “Freddy Lopez is Ex-DEA turned drug lord of the Unidad Cartel. The man Max owed money to. The uncle of Tony Lopez, the man you and Adam spent time with last weekend. But you’re telling me you don’t know if you saw Freddy Lopez, or if he was involved in the murder of Max?”

  “You’ve asked me the same question several times before and my answer hasn’t changed. No, I don’t know.”

  “Mia, we’re not after you or Adam. Max was shot in self-defense - Adam’s wounds are proof of that. But I need to know if Alfredo was involved in any way. The bullet from Max’s shoulder wound matched the gun found at the scene - registered to Luis Avila, Alfredo’s right hand man who was also found dead in a warehouse two days after Max, but according to forensics, Luis died hours before Max. The bullet retrieved from Max’s skull didn’t match the same weapon.”

  I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, opened my eyes and spoke through my exhale, “I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. If you want to know if Freddy was there when Max was shot, you’ll have to find a way to ask him yourself.”

  I stood. “I came down to be polite and answer your questions, but if you’re just going to repeat them, I’d much rather go home and listen to my husband repeat over and over how much pain he’s in. After what I’ve been through with Adam, that’s all I want to do…be with him and hear his voice. May I go now?”

  Officer Spencer didn’t look happy, but he could go fuck himself. I had a hurt husband I needed to get back to, before Lex or Landyn decided to kill him. Then all the healing he’d done in the hospital would have been for nothing.

  “Fine,” Officer Spencer said grudgingly. “Go, but if you know any information at all, please reconsider talking to me.”

  I nodded once, even though there was no way in hell I would snitch on the man who saved Adam’s life.

  Hazel eyes.

  An anxious Eric and Kenny stood the moment they saw me step foot out of the elevator. They’d been waiting down in the lobby while I’d been on the third floor talking to Investigator Spencer.

  It just so happened that they’d been visiting me and Adam when Investigator Spencer called and asked me to come into the station for a quick chat. I’d planned to come into the station alone, but Eric and Kenny had insisted on bringing me. Adam had just taken his pain medication and fallen asleep, so it’d been perfect timing for me to sneak out of the house.

  He hadn’t given me one opportunity to leave his side all week.

  “Mia, Sweetie, is everything okay?” Eric asked as soon as I made it to him.

  I nodded, and as I got closer, he tugged me to his chest for a bear hug. I felt Kenny at my back and then a second later, I felt him kiss the top of my head.

  I relaxed and took a deep, calming breath. I was tired and really wanted to go home.

  “I’m fine, guys. Promise. I just want to go home…or back to Lex and Landyn’s,” I corrected myself, because, since the shooting, we’d been staying with Lex and Landyn. I couldn’t bear to go back to the house Adam called “ours” and Adam showed no interest in going back either. It held way too many bad memories.

  Eric’s arms loosened around my back when he said, “We’ll get you home now, Sweetie. God forbid Adam wakes up only to find you gone.”

  At that, I sighed, pulled away from Eric and glanced back and forth between him and Kenny. “Thank you both for bringing me here.”

  “Mia, you know we’d never let you go through anything alone. No matter what it is,” Kenny said softly, confirming that he was one of the sweetest men on the face of the planet.

  I gave him a lazy, but genuine smile.

  They really were the best friends a girl could have.

  “I love you both,” I whispered, trying hard not to tear up.

  Eric’s arm tightened around my back once more before he said, “Sweetie, we love you bunches.”

  I knew something was wrong the moment Lex opened the front door and I caught angry, narrowed eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” I rushed as I pushed inside the house. “Is Adam okay?” What the hell could have happened in the hour I was gone?

  “Oh, just wait. You’ll see,” she muttered darkly at my back as I walked further into the house.

  A second later, I froze.

  “Why the fuck did you let her leave?” I heard Adam roar from the kitchen.

  Oh no…

  “He woke up about ten minutes ago. You weren’t in the room, so he came out to look for you. I told him where you went and he’s been pissy ever since,” Lex confirmed my fear.

  From the moment Adam had awoken in the hospital after being shot, he’d demanded to see me and wouldn’t let me leave his side. If the doctors made me step out of the room for any reason, he’d become anxious and agitated.

  I knew it was only because everything that had happened with Max was so fresh, but I was a little worried.

  I took off as fast as I could, ran into the kitchen, and the first thing I saw were two grown ass men bowed up to each other, chest to chest.

  At my entry, Landyn’s eyes veered from Adam’s and hit mine.

  Adam turned and faced me too.

  He looked pale, but still in a rage. He didn’t have a shirt on, his right arm was in a sling and his right side was covered with a bandage where his stab wound was stitched. He’d been home from the hospital for a day and a half. He shouldn’t even be up.

  “Mia, get him the hell out of here and back to his room, before I put him back in the fuckin’ hospital myself,” Landyn warned, rounded Ad
am’s body, walked past me, and out of the kitchen.

  “Adam, what are you doing--” I started to ask, but snapped my mouth shut when he moved and headed straight to me.

  He stopped right in front of me and dropped his forehead to mine.

  His hand lifted to my face and I sucked in a sharp breath when he whispered, “Don’t leave me again, Baby. I don’t care where you go, don’t leave me. Not right now. I didn’t protect you right from Max, but I won’t ever let my guard down when it comes to you again. But I’m hurt, and I can’t protect you right now.”

  Oh my god!

  My stomach was doing crazy backflips as I pulled back a little and covered Adam’s hand on my cheek with my own.

  Adam’s eyes opened and collided with mine.

  “Adam, listen to me. You nearly died trying to protect me. You were shot and stabbed trying to buy me time to run away, but I wouldn’t leave you. I’ll never leave you.”

  His eyes squeezed so tight I could feel just how much he was hurting.

  “Six years, Mia. Six years were taken from us. I had you back for a week, and in one day, I almost lost you forever.” His voice was gravely and tortured.

  “No, no, no, no, no…don’t do this. Everything’s okay now. I’m here, you’re here, and we’re together. I won’t ever leave you, and I’ll never let you leave me,” I vowed.

  “Promise me, Baby.”

  “Adam, I swear.”

  In an instant, I felt his body relax into mine and the vibe in the room diminished.

  “Come on…let’s get you back to bed. You’ve only been out of the hospital for one day. You shouldn’t be up yet and you definitely shouldn’t be starting fights with your brother.” When Adam looked like he was about to protest, I added, “Please. For me. I’ll lay with you.”

  He inhaled deeply and agreed with a nod.

  He wrapped his good arm around my shoulders and I wrapped an arm around his waist, being careful of his side.

  “You sort out his shit, or do I need to kick his dumb ass?” Landyn asked when he caught sight of us walking through the living room.

  I couldn’t help but smile, because even though his words held bitterness, his tone held no seriousness.

  “Shut up, asshole. She’s back,” Adam growled, like that was the answer to everything. I rolled my eyes, and surprisingly, Landyn didn’t respond.

  We walked down the hall and into the bedroom Adam and I had been using. I got him in bed, crawled in next to him, on his good side, and rested my head on his chest. We lay that way for a long time without speaking, enjoying the comfortable silence.

  Adam eventually broke the silence.

  “We might have wasted six years apart, but we’ll make up for it in the next six. Then we’ll keep making up for it until the day one of us leaves this earth, because that’s the only way I’ll allow us to be apart again. Deal?”

  I smiled against his chest.

  My sweet, arrogant jerk.

  “Deal. I love you, Adam.”

  “You’re my fuckin’ heart, Mia.”

  Epilogue

  Six Years, Six Months Later

  Adam Bryant

  Thirty-Seven Years Old

  It was November.

  The third cool front of the year had just pushed through.

  That meant today was gonna be a great fuckin’ day and perfect weather to have Laura’s birthday party outside.

  Nine. Years. Old.

  Damn, was my niece really nine years old already?

  To think my brother Landyn’s middle daughter was already nine years old, was a little hard to believe. That meant my oldest niece, Layla, was fourteen years old and my littlest niece, Lindsay, was six.

  Damn.

  Time fuckin’ flies.

  But I guess that’s what happens when that time is filled with love, laughter, fun and family, because between my brother’s girls, my kids, and Trish’s son, our spare time was constantly occupied with dance recitals, soccer games, holiday school programs, birthday parties, school dances, homework and…well, the list goes on and on.

  Therefore, because our days were occupied by our jobs, and our evenings were occupied so fully by our kids, any little free time the adults had alone became that much more precious. And for me, one of those precious times was right now - early in the morning, before the kids were awake, with my wife wrapped around me like a soft blanket.

  As usual, somewhere in the middle of the night we’d changed positions. I’d started the night out with my chest pressed against Mia’s back, my arm draped around her waist, fingers pressed into her stomach, legs tangled with hers and my face shoved in her neck.

  Now, I was flat on my back, Mia was on her side; my arm was under her neck, and my hand was at her shoulder where my fingers drew circles. Her arm was wrapped around my stomach, her leg thrown over my hip, while the top of her head was under my chin and her cheek was resting on my chest - right over the tattoo that read:

  Eres Mía.

  In English: Mine.

  Seems Mia’s birth mother did something right before they gave her up for adoption, because they named her perfectly for me.

  And Mia was just that…mine.

  Funny how tattoos had never really been my thing, but after being shot and stabbed, I’d ended up with five. Truthfully, they still weren’t my thing, but every single one of them had a meaning behind the artwork, and it all started with the large tribal piece that covered the entirety of my right shoulder blade - specifically gotten to cover the scar from my gunshot wound. It crawled up and over my right shoulder, down my chest, and ended just above my Mia tattoo, and then it ran down my right arm and ended above my elbow.

  I had figured if I was gonna get a tattoo, I might as well go all out and make it fuckin’ massive.

  Mia loved them though, so that was all that mattered.

  I hadn’t wanted any reminders of that gunshot wound, but more importantly, I hadn’t wanted Mia to have any reminders. And not only had that scar reminded us both of the night I’d been shot, but it also reminded us both of the goddamn pain and suffering I’d gone through when that bullet fractured and lodged itself in my right shoulder blade.

  Actually, Mia - my poor baby - probably would have preferred a bullet lodged in both her shoulder blades rather than put up with all the whiny bullshit I’d given her for nearly two months while I'd been healing. She’d definitely suffered way more than I had and she deserved a medal.

  Well, I had bought her another 1968 Chevy Camaro to make up for it - this one red with black racing stripes - but with the kids, it was rare that she ever got to take it out for a drive. I'd looked into buying her the 1970 Plymouth Hemi Cuda she'd spoken of on numerous occasions, but it seemed she failed to mention they were like the Holy Grail of muscle cars. I hadn't been able to find one for less than two million dollars.

  She was outta her damn mind.

  "Baby, I know you’re awake,” I rumbled low, because I’d just felt Mia’s breathe on my chest when she exhaled long and deep.

  Her arm around my stomach tightened and I heard a muffled, “Mmmm hmmm…”

  I smiled, my arm tightened around her shoulder and I ordered, “Baby, kiss.”

  This got her to smile against my chest, only moments before she lifted her head. She leaned down, kissed my chest over her name tattooed there, and then lifted her mouth to mine for a soft, sweet kiss.

  But I didn't want sweet.

  I rolled, and she let out a small squeal. Then I took her to her back knowing we didn’t have much time. After six and a half years and three kids, I still wanted my wife just as much - if not more - than the first night I saw her.

  "Toothpaste," she mumbled.

  "Later," I decided.

  I quickly rid her of her pajama shorts and the huge t-shirt she was wearing - my t-shirt.

  I looked down at the sight before my eyes and watched as my hands caressed her stomach, her hips and up to her breasts. I was careful not to trace the tiny, barely visible st
retch marks she had that were left over from the pregnancies because I knew she was insecure about them, but fuck if my gut didn’t clench at the sight.

  My kids had done that to her. My happy, healthy, amazing, gorgeous redheaded kids had done that to her body.

  And her body was fuckin’ perfect.

  “Baby, the door’s open,” she whispered like I cared.

  I spread her legs, freed myself from my boxer-briefs, reached between her thighs and was inside her the next second. Her neck arched, her heels pressed into my ass and she breathed, “Yes.”

  “Monitor’s on, but we don’t have much time so you better come fast,” I warned deeply.

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  And twenty minutes later, she did.

  I slid in and out, pumping faster each time, over and over again. She gripped my biceps, wrapped her legs all the way around my back and bit down on my shoulder as she came. Of course, feeling her clench around me in every which way, hearing her soft moans and whimpers, and feeling her body beneath my hands as she came apart, meant that I came apart right along with her.

  We’d both just come hard and I knew that meant Mia would be in a pliable mood, so I decided it was time for “The talk”.

  I wasn't sure if she was ready yet, but I sure as shit was.

  See, Madison, my redheaded baby girl, my youngest of three, my fifth tattoo, was about to turn two years old. She was starting to talk a lot, she was walking and eating on her own, and had been for a while, which was exactly why I was ready for another baby in the house.

  All my kids’ names were tattooed on my right side and they all wrapped horizontally around my ribs. The first started at the bottom to cover the scar from my stab wound, and the rest went in order by age directly above it.

  And I was ready for another tattoo.

  I watched as the light flicked off in the bathroom and then Mia walked out, which meant my nerves kicked in. She walked to the bed, climbed back into it and as soon as I felt her heat, I tucked her into my side.