by Jessica Ashe
I make the call and then put my phone on silent. Between Elena, Daron, and Sadie, my phone is ringing pretty much nonstop.
“Why?” I ask, through gritted teeth.
None of them respond. Burton and Chet are both bleeding heavily, but they’re not going to die. Not from those wounds anyway. Jay has so far escaped with just a concussion. He deserves so much more.
I walk over and press my foot down on Burton’s wounded arm until he screams in agony. I do the same to Chet’s bullet wound, and then kick Jay hard in the ribs for good measure.
“I’ll ask you again, and this time I suggest you answer. Why?”
“Why d’you think?” Jay replies. He tries to spit out blood, but ends up just dribbling down his front.
“I’m really at a loss. I helped you when I didn’t have to. When I didn’t want to. Why try and kill Elena and me?”
“You called the cops,” Jay stammers. “That morning… with the Adams brothers. You called early. Wanted us… caught.”
“I never called the cops.”
“Bullshit. If not you, who did?”
“Never mind.”
I’m not about to put Daron in the firing line, even if these three won’t be in any position to take revenge.
“If you’re going to kill us, man up and do it,” Jay challenges. “I don’t reckon you have the balls.”
I raise my gun, point it at Jay’s hand, and pull the trigger. I probably shouldn’t have done that. He screams for five minutes, moaning about the hole in his hand. It’s the least he deserves.
“Look on the bright side,” I say. “You can probably fit your dick through that tiny hole. It’s a new way to masturbate.”
“What do you want?” Jay growls.
“I want your word that you’ve learned your lesson today, and that you won’t come after Elena and I again. And Daron. I can kill all three of you right here, right now. You only get to stay alive, if you can convince me you’ll leave this city and never come back.”
“Whatever you want,” Burton screams at me. “Never liked this city anyway.”
“I hate the cold,” Chet agrees. “I’ll leave. You’ll never see me again.”
They’re lying. I know they both have family here, and grew up here. They enjoy the small amount of respect they get from people even more pathetic than themselves. They’re just telling me what I want to hear.
But Burton and Chet aren’t my main concern. Those two will do what they’re told. It’s Jay who needs to talk.
“What about it?” I ask Jay. “I hear California’s nice.”
I don’t need to hear his answer. I can see it in his eyes. He has never hated anyone as much as he hates me right now. He brought this on himself, but his hatred is too strong for that logic. It’s a hatred that will drive him to vengeance.
“Okay,” Jay says reluctantly. “Just let us live.”
“I want to believe you,” I say. “I honestly do.” Jay doesn’t even bother to speak up. “Thing is, no matter how much I want to believe you, I know you’re lying. I knew it before I even asked the question. That’s why I called him.”
“Him?” Jay asks. “Who did you call? Not the cops again?”
“No,” says a voice from the doorway. “We are most definitely not the cops.”
I keep my gun trained on Jay, but there’s no need. Vince Adams has four guys with him, and they all have guns pointed at the three men propped up against the wall.
“You promised me they’d be unharmed,” Vince says to me.
“I said mostly unharmed. Don’t tell me you feel sorry for them?”
“Nothing of the sort. I just want to be the one to inflict the pain on them.”
“There’s plenty more pain to go around.”
Vince nods. “I’m going to have fun with these boys.”
“What about me?”
“What about you?”
“I shot two of your men.”
“They’re both recovering. If what you told me earlier is true, it sounds like you played it safe and managed to avoid a shootout.”
“So I’m free to go?”
“You’re free to go, Mr. Rockwell.”
I take one last look at Jay. I can’t deny the pleasure I get from the look of sheer terror in his eyes. I could have killed him. I’m capable of that. I don’t enjoy it though. Best I leave it to those who do.
Besides, I still need Elena to forgive me. The less blood I have on my hands the better.
Jay, Chet, and Burton deserve to die. If that’s what Vince has in store, then so be it. No one who threatens Elena deserves to live. They’re going to get what’s coming to them.
I head to the door, but Vince reaches out and puts his hand on my chest as I try to walk past. I’m bigger and stronger than him, but unlike Jay, I know it’s not a good idea to get on the wrong side of the Adams brothers.
“Fair warning, Mr. Rockwell. If you ever so much as look at me or my men in anger, then I will be forced to do to you what I’m about to do to them.”
“I want nothing to do with any of it. You remember the other part of our deal?”
Vince nods again. “We never go near police anyway, but yes, Elena is safe. I’ll get the word out. No one will touch her unless they want to deal with me first.”
My hand is on the doorknob, when I hear a gunshot.
I wasn’t expecting Vince to get to work so quickly.
Then I realize it wasn’t Vince who fired the shot, and it wasn’t Jay who got hit.
I reach down to the wet patch on my stomach and then bring my bloody hand up to my face.
Oh shit.
My legs go weak, and I collapse to the floor, smashing my head against the ground in the process. I drift off into blackness as the blood pools underneath me.
It wasn’t supposed to end this way.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Elena
He’s stable.
That’s what the doctor said. There were lots of caveats afterwards, but I’m focusing on the positives. He’s stable for now, as indicated by the steady beeping of the machine he’s hooked up to.
He even woke up for a bit, but he drifted back off to sleep before he even noticed I was by his side.
When Tanner didn’t come back to the pub, I kept calling his phone until a woman answered. She was a nurse working at the hospital he’d just arrived at.
I still don’t know what happened after I left. Apparently someone made a 911 call to report a shooting and the paramedics found Tanner on the street a couple of hundred yards away from where I’d been held.
What I do know is that he’s been shot. The bullet entered his back and came out the other side. The bullet hit his intestines, but the doctors are confident they’ve repaired the damage. There doesn’t appear to be any damage to the spine. He got lucky. Not as lucky as someone who doesn’t get shot at all, but still lucky, all things considered.
“Are any of you family?” a nurse asks when she walks in and finds Daron, Sadie, and me gathered around Tanner’s bed.
“I’m his girlfriend.”
“Then you can stay. You two should leave. I doubt he’s going to wake up for a while yet anyway.”
“Why don’t you come back with us?” Sadie says. Daron has his arm wrapped around her shoulder protectively and she looks perfectly content with that. He still hasn’t fully explained his role in all this, but I think Sadie will forgive him. Tanner wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for Daron, and neither would I. He’s more than made up for his past mistakes.
“I want to stay here in case he wakes up,” I reply. “It’s not like I’ll be able to sleep at home anyway.”
“I’ll leave my phone on,” Daron says. “Let us know the moment he wakes up. And call me if you want a ride home. I’ll come pick you up.”
“Thanks.”
Once the others have left and the nurse has finished checking Tanner’s vitals, I slide my hand under his and wrap his fingers around mine. We never held hands al
l that much. We didn’t do the romantic walks in the park, or go to parties as a couple.
But we will soon.
I rest my head back in my chair and close my eyes, picturing us walking hand-in-hand together doing normal couple things like shopping or going for dinner.
I yawn loudly. Perhaps I’m more tired than I thought.
He’s squeezing my hand.
That’s nice. It’s comforting, reassuring.
Wait a minute. He’s squeezing my hand.
I sit bolt upright and stare at Tanner who’s looking at me with his eyes barely open.
“Morning, gorgeous.”
His voice is dry and strained, but it’s such a relief to hear him speak that I forget he’s in agony and throw my arms around his neck.
“Sorry,” I mutter, when he winces in pain. I’m half laughing, half crying as I pass him a drink of water which he manages to sip through a straw.
“How’re you feeling? Does anything hurt? Do you want me to go get the doctor?”
“I’m fine,” he replies. “No doctor. Not yet. I just want to be here with you for a bit.”
“What happened? I was so worried when you didn’t come back. How did you end up like this?”
“It doesn’t matter. Situation’s taken care of.”
“It does matter. You got shot.”
“I’ve been shot before. I’ll get better.”
“How did it happen?”
“Think Jay got me with a lucky shot,” he replies groggily. “Must have had another gun on him.”
“You’re going to be in bed for weeks. Maybe even months.”
He strains his dry lips into a smile. “I’m willing to bet you can keep me entertained in bed. Did you keep that rope?”
I hear a loud cough from the doorway and look round to see Dad standing there.
“Daddy? What are you doing here?”
“Hearing things I don’t want to hear.”
“This isn’t a good time. In case you didn’t notice, Tanner has been shot. I don’t want to hear your lectures right now, and neither does he.”
“It’s okay, Elena,” Tanner says quietly.
He’s so weak. From the moment I first laid eyes on Tanner, he was strong and tough. I never imagined I’d have to see him like this.
“I’m not here to cause trouble,” Dad says. “In fact, I’m here to apologize. I made a mistake.”
“I asked you not to investigate him. You had no right to do that.”
“In that case, you should know that I carried on investigating him after we last spoke.”
“How is this an apology?”
“I found out the truth about Tanner,” Dad says. “You’ve led quite an eventful life, son.”
“You could say that,” Tanner replies.
“I don’t want to hear this. If Tanner has anything to tell me then he will tell me in his own time.”
“I want you to know,” Tanner says, squeezing the words out in short breaths. “But I don’t have the energy. Your dad can tell the story. If he’s wrong, I’ll say something.”
“What’s going on?”
“Remember how I accused Tanner of lying about being in the Navy?” I nod. “Well, it’s true that no one called Tanner Rockwell was in the Navy. However, that’s not his real name.”
I look back at Tanner who gives the slightest nod of his head.
“Felton,” he mutters. “Felton Hirsch.”
“He changed his name just over a year ago,” Dad continues. “Tanner Rockwell never served in the Navy, but Felton Hirsch certainly did. I’m not one hundred percent sure I know why you changed your name, but I can hazard a guess. You see, Sadie asked me to do a background check on a young man called Daron Costa. Daron happens to have a brother, Alec Costa, who served in Fleet Surgical Team 1 alongside Felton Hatch.”
“Wait,” I interrupt. “Tanner served in Fleet Surgical Team 10.”
“That part he did lie about.”
“He has a tattoo.”
Right now, the tattoo is under bandages, but I know it well enough. It says Fleet Surgical Team 10.
“I’m guessing he added a zero on the end after he left the Navy.”
I look over at Tanner who nods.
“But why?” I ask him. “Why go to all this effort to hide who you are?”
“Daron,” Tanner says wearily. “Needed to keep him safe.”
“I don’t understand.”
Tanner looks too tired to talk, but I desperately need to know what’s going on. Who is this man whose holding my hand? The one who came to save me from certain death? Do I need to call him Felton now?
“This is the part where I have to guess,” Dad says. “A lot of the records are classified, but I’m fairly sure Tanner got called up to the SEALs after three years of service. That would explain the number of classified missions you were on. I also know Alec Costa died on the battlefield in Iraq. I believe it was the same time you received that bullet wound to the leg.”
I look over to Tanner again who nods.
Dad continues. “I can’t pretend to know what it’s like to serve, but whenever I talk to a veteran, they all agree on one thing. You form a bond with your fellow soldiers that can never be broken. Not even in death. I reckon Alec asked you to look after his brother before he died. Daron was going slowly off the rails, but he was a good kid, and I reckon he’s a good man. You took it upon yourself to become his guardian.”
“Alec saved my life,” Tanner says. “If it weren’t for him…” He pauses for a breath. “…the bullet wouldn’t have hit my thigh. He put himself in harm’s way for me. Least I could do.”
I run my hand through Tanner’s hair and kiss him gently on the forehead.
“Perhaps we should let him sleep,” I say to Dad.
“Good idea. One last thing though.”
Dad reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box.
“I have another confession to make,” Dad says. “I may have accidentally gained access to Tanner’s house earlier tonight.”
“You broke into his house?” I ask incredulously. We’ve been speaking quietly so far, but this time I raise my voice loud enough to startle Dad and Tanner.
“Only to get this,” he says, motioning to the box in his hand. “I knew where it would be. It’s always in the same place with men like Tanner. Bottom drawer. Hidden out of sight when no one can see it, as if he’s ashamed of it.”
Dad passes the box to me and I open it slowly, wondering what can be so bad that Tanner, a man who brazenly keeps bondage materials in the middle drawer, would hide from me.
It’s a medal; a gold symbol in the middle, surrounded by a blue circle, and attached to a red white and blue ribbon.
“It’s a distinguished service medal,” Dad says. “I genuinely have no idea exactly how he earned it. Like I said, it’s damn near impossible to find out anything about SEALs, assuming that’s what you are.” Tanner doesn’t nod, but he doesn’t deny it either. “I’ll let him tell you the story. You should leave the medal somewhere visible—he’ll get the best treatment imaginable. He deserves it.”
I squeeze Tanner’s hand again, and can’t help but notice he is looking anywhere but at the medal. However he earned this, he wants to forget it.
“You want a ride home?” Dad asks.
“No, I’m going to stay.”
Dad nods and heads to the door.
“Daddy. Thank you.”
“I think we should all be thanking him,” Dad says nothing to Tanner.
Dad is half way out the door when I stop him again.
“Dad, you definitely just looked in the bottom drawer, right?”
“Just the bottom drawer,” Dad confirms, although I swear I see him go bright red.
Is not easy to embarrass my dad, but Tanner’s middle drawer could probably manage it.
“He’s gone,” I say, turning back to Tanner. “It’s just the—”
Tanner is asleep again.
I take the medal and p
in it to his gown. It suits him.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Tanner - One Year Later
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a stubborn bastard, Mr. Rockwell?”
“No, doc,” I reply. “It’s never come up.”
“I don’t believe you,” she responds. “Now then, will you please get back in your wheelchair.”
I hate that thing. I’ve spent more time in a wheelchair than I care to remember. In many ways, it’s been the worst year of my life.
In many other ways, it’s been the best.
Elena made sure of that. I can’t lie though; I’m looking forward to the day I can walk completely unaided. It’s getting close now. These sessions with my therapist are becoming less and less taxing, and I’m walking more and more without crutches.
I used to collapse down in my chair drenched in sweat after just fifteen minutes of standing and trying to walk. Now I can hobble about for an hour and still be reluctant to sit back down.
“I’m not using the wheelchair tonight, doc,” I insist.
“Tanner, you’re not even strong enough to walk out of here unaided. You need the chair still. I’m sorry, I know it’s frustrating, but you’re going to need it for a few more months.”
“I can cope with just the crutches. I really don’t want the chair tonight.”
“What’s so special about tonight?”
“Big date night. It’s the anniversary of my first date with Elena.”
“I should have known a woman was involved. Men are stubborn by nature, and even more so when a skirt is involved.”
“Are all therapists as direct as you?”
“Nope. And not all therapists could handle working with you. Anyway, I’m just talking from experience. I swear, some men only go through with their therapy because they refuse to look weak in front of a woman.”
“Elena’s my motivation.”
Elena has been so strong this last year. The doctors expected me to make a quick recovery, but after an MRI, they discovered that the nerve damage was much worse than they thought. I even got the ‘you’ll probably never walk again’ speech.
Fuck that.