Find Me

by Laurelin Paige

  Still squatting, I hugged my knees. “I didn’t bring cash, Daddy. But I’m here to offer you the money in another form.” His lids opened just a bit wider, indicating I had his attention. “I want you to go to a treatment center. There’s a good one I’ve found. It costs just over twenty thousand, and JC and I are willing to pay for it if you choose to go.”

  There was no way to know if my father remembered JC, though he didn’t ask me who he was. It wouldn’t have surprised me to find he couldn’t process anything at all in his current state, but he evidently could because he asked, “You’ll only give me the money if I go to your place?”

  “Yes. That’s the condition.”

  “Then I’ll go. Give me the address and the cash, and I’ll make arrangements.”

  It was almost funny that he thought I’d believe that. “I’m not giving you the money, Daddy. We’ll take you to the facility and pay the bill for you.”

  “Nope. Not doing it.” He leaned his head back on the sofa, and I was unreasonably relieved that he didn’t fight me further. Like, what was he going to do to me? Take a swing? He could barely lift his neck or train his focus. Even if he tried to throw a punch, there was no way he’d connect.

  But old habits died hard, and fear of him was a habit I was still recovering from.

  I wasn’t done with my speech, however, and while I’d never really expected him to take me up on the offer for treatment without announcing my alternative, I’d hoped I’d been wrong. “If you aren’t going to go into treatment, then you’re going to have to go back to jail.”

  His face, which had been slack, tightened. “Jail? I’m not going back to jail. Fuck that.” His words were passionate, but the energy behind them was missing.

  “Those are your options, Daddy. The police are waiting to take you into custody right now, but I was able to work out a deal. If you go to this treatment center and commit to the program, then the police will postpone your arrest until you’ve finished.” It was a secured facility, and the patients were generally there because they’d been sentenced by a court. If my father agreed to go, he’d sign away his rights to leave until the treatment was over.

  My father sat forward, his head wobbling as he did. “You’re saying I could go to this center instead of jail?”

  I glanced up at JC, who smiled at me in support. “No. I’m saying you’ll go to jail either way. But if you went back to jail clean, you’d have a better chance of getting out earlier. A better chance at everything, really.” I wasn’t stupid. The options weren’t that enticing. What was the point of being drug-free when he was only going back to the place where he’d gotten hooked in the first place?

  There probably wasn’t a point. But it was the best I had to offer. If there was any part of him that cared to get better, this was his shot. A long shot, but the only shot.

  He didn’t seem to see it that way. “I’m not fucking going to jail, Gwen.” There was a low rumble to his words, and I wondered if he was sobering up. “So get the fuck out of here with your offers and conditions. And I’m still coming back to see you. When I do, you’ll give me the cash with no strings attached.”

  I rose to a standing position and reached for JC’s arm. My father’s threats were hollow but prickled at me nonetheless. I needed the support of my fiancé.

  Staring down at the man who gave me half his DNA, I knew that anything else I said would fall on deaf ears. Still, it was my one chance to talk without fear of being smacked, and the words I wanted to say were for me, not for him. “You aren’t coming back to see me, Daddy. And I’m not giving you money. You are going back to jail because it’s where you belong, and not because I’m frightened that you’ll come after me. You can’t touch me anymore. Not physically, not emotionally. You can’t touch Norma or Ben either. Our lives are whole now. Without you. We are building careers and marrying and having babies and continuing the family that you started with Mom. But even though we have your name and your genes, we are not yours.”

  I directed my next words to JC because they were as much for him as for the man on the floor. “I’ve learned that recently, in spite of how I was raised. Biology is not what defines a relationship. It’s love and sacrifice. That’s what truly makes a family.” That’s how I knew that JC would be an amazing dad, no matter who the paternity test showed was the father.

  I turned my focus back toward William Anders, who was already slipping back into unconsciousness. “I’m not yours. And you are no longer mine. The police will be in shortly. Let’s go, JC.”

  If the mention of police alarmed any of our audience, they didn’t show it. No one attempted to stop us as we carefully made our way through the hellhole back to the fresh air and the evening sky.

  Once we were off the porch and the police were on their way inside, I fell into JC’s arms. “That felt good,” I said, even though I was shaking. “Thank you for helping me do this.”

  He pulled back to look at my face. “I didn’t do anything but be here.”

  “That was enough.” I jumped as another car backfired, then laughed. “I’m so edgy.”

  JC didn’t laugh, though. He didn’t even smile. Instead he clutched his hand over the left side of his chest, his face stricken.

  His expression had me instantly panicking. “What’s wrong? JC? What is it?”

  “Gwen,” was all he said before he crumpled to the ground.

  I went down with him, confused and concerned. Then I saw it—blood pooling out from between his fingers as his color went white. Still baffled at what had happened, it wasn’t until Drew ran up to us, calling over his walkie for an ambulance that I understood that JC had just been shot.

  Chapter Twenty

  The first hour in the hospital waiting room, I spent crying. The next, pacing. Drew and Dom checked on me periodically, but once they realized I couldn’t be consoled, they found someplace else to wait for news. I preferred that. I didn’t need the shoulders of strangers. I needed my sister.

  Norma arrived early into the second hour and found me screaming at a nurse, begging for an update. She assumed the responsibility of handling the hospital staff, which was better for everyone, and then assumed the responsibility of handling me.

  “They’ll let us know as soon as he’s out of surgery,” she said when she’d returned from the nurse’s desk. “Right now we just have to wait. How was he in the ambulance?”

  “He was conscious and breathing fine, so the paramedic said the bullet missed his lungs and heart, but the drive to the hospital was short, and they were hovering over him the whole time, so I really don’t know how he was.” I gasped for air, having delivered my run-on sentence without a breath.

  Norma took the opportunity to hug me. “All of that sounds very positive. He’s going to be fine.”

  “But what if he’s not?” It was the first time I’d been able to say this out loud, and as it was, I could only say it while facing over her shoulder. “I’ve been looking at the Internet, and lots of injuries seem fine at first but then there’s internal bleeding.” I pulled out of her arms and resumed my agitated loping around the waiting area. “And why the fuck are they not telling me what’s going on?”

  “The Internet is not where you’re going to get answers, Gwen. Wait for the doctors. They’re taking a long time because they’re thoroughly examining his wound. Right now, we have to just be patient.”

  I wrapped my arms around myself and nodded, even though she was asking for the impossible. As if I could be patient. Ridiculous as her suggestion was, I was grateful she was there. She was a godsend, really. Without her, I’d have probably strung up one of the medical technicians by that point.

  The third hour, we still had no information. I was exhausted and in shock. I was so upset that my stomach churned and I almost puked.

  Norma scrounged up a protein bar from a vending machine and forced me to eat it. “You can’t miss meals when you’re pregnant. That’s what makes you feel nauseated.”

  “I’m nauseat
ed because I’m sick with worry.”

  “That too. But I bet this helps.”

  It did help. A lot.

  Shortly after, Drew appeared from wherever he’d been hiding.

  I jumped up, my legs shaking. “Have you heard anything?”

  He dodged the question. “Hi, Norma. Glad you’re able to be here with Gwen. Do you mind if I steal her for a while?” He turned to me. “We have some information we’d like to go over with you. If you could come with me—”

  “I’m not going anywhere until I hear how he’s doing.” Realizing I was a little louder than I should probably be in public, I lowered my voice. “I’m fully willing to give a report, Drew, but not until I get an update.”

  He smiled sympathetically. “I understand. However this conversation needs to occur now.”

  Norma put a hand on my back. “I can text you if there’s any word. Maybe a distraction would—”

  I shrugged her away. “What conversation? Do you know something? Did the doctor talk to you already?” My volume crept up again.

  Drew remained unreadable. “Let’s discuss this somewhere else.”

  “I don’t want to fucking discuss this at all unless you’re telling me that JC is all right.”

  He leaned toward me and lowered his voice. “Gwen, I’m on his side. I’m on your side. Right now you’re making it difficult for me to help either of you.” He paused to let that sink in. “Please, come with me, and I’m sure we can get some of your questions answered.”

  A beat passed before I reluctantly conceded. “Okay. Can we tell the nurse where to find me in case there’s any news?” It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Norma. I just wanted all my bases covered.

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  Wasn’t necessary because we wouldn’t be long? Or because he already had news about JC?

  There was a fifty percent chance that his answer would kill me, so I didn’t ask.

  Numbly, I followed Drew out of the waiting room and toward the elevators. I’d expected him to take me to whatever waiting room the rest of JC’s team had found, so when he led me instead into the elevator and pushed the button for the ICU floor, my uneasiness grew.

  If he was dead, the doctor would have told me, I reasoned. If he was dead, it wouldn’t be Drew who broke the news.

  But my basis for protocol came strictly from TV, so it was hard to feel reassured.

  When we got to our floor, we were buzzed into the Intensive Care Unit with no questions asked. This had to be where JC was. And Drew must have already been up here. My uneasiness spiraled into dread.

  Drew guided me to the end of the hall and stopped outside a patient room. He nodded to a police officer in uniform who seemed to be standing guard and then opened the door and gestured for me to enter. Tentatively, I stepped inside, surprised to find Dom was there, as well as two of his team members. They hovered around the hospital bed, blocking my view of the patient who lay there, but I could hear the heart monitor, its blip blip strong and even.

  I brushed past the men, and at the sight of JC, let out a strangled sob, unable to speak. I’d been so fearful of what I’d see when I got to him, afraid I’d be met with vacant eyes and colorless cheeks and the rhythmic swoosh of an oxygen machine. Instead, he was sitting up, his face animated as he listened to Dom say something about the security level of the unit. He was bare-chested, not even wearing a hospital gown. A cord ran from JC to the monitor and another to an IV drip, but except for the bandage on the upper left side of his chest and the sling around his shoulder and arm, he appeared unscathed.

  He opened his mouth to reply to Dom when his eyes caught mine. Immediately, his expression softened and he stretched out his right arm, an unspoken invitation for me to come to him.

  I ran into the crook he’d created, tears streaming down my face. “I thought you were…” I couldn’t finish that sentence. “I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”

  “I’m fine. Bullet went clean through. Tore some of my muscle, that’s all.” He kissed my forehead and stroked my hair. “I’m just so relieved that it didn’t hit you too.”

  I cried harder, the anxiety of the last two and a half hours finally releasing in a torrent of emotion. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” I could barely get words out, so I kept saying it over and over.

  “Shh,” JC hushed me. “Whatever are you sorry for?”

  It had been my fault he’d been at that drug den. My fault that he’d been around the kind of people who would throw a shot at innocent bystanders outside the door of a heroin dealer. If I’d just let the police handle my father, JC would never have been in the line of fire.

  It was too much for me to say, though, so I just cried, and he let me.

  After a few minutes, I remembered we had an audience, and I started to feel self-conscious. My apologies could wait. The crying slowed, and I gratefully took the tissue Dom offered.

  “I don’t understand why no one told me you were okay,” I said when I could speak again.

  Drew was the one who answered. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you out there. Too many ears. Until we can make a game plan, we prefer to operate under the illusion that JC’s condition is more serious than it is.”

  I wiped a stray tear with one hand, keeping the other wrapped around JC’s. “It was almost three hours! You couldn’t even drop me a hint?”

  This time it was JC who answered. “I wanted them to tell you sooner, but they had to arrange admission to the ICU and make sure the staff was on board with the situation before we brought you in. I’m sorry you were worried.”

  Irritation prickled at me but was overwhelmed by relief and confusion. “You’re really okay?”

  His grip tightened around my hand. “I really am.”

  “Why are we in the ICU, then? Isn’t this unit for patients with severe trauma?”

  “It is,” Drew answered. “But it’s the most secure unit in the hospital. And we don’t want Mennezzo to realize that JC is basically unharmed. Otherwise he might try to arrange another hit. This buys us a little bit of time.”

  “Mennezzo? He wasn’t behind this.” I understood why Mennezzo would be a suspect, but it made just as much sense that the shooting had been because of our location. “This had to be someone else. We were at a drug den. It was most likely related to that. Wrong place, wrong time.”

  I lowered my eyes. “It was my fault you got shot. When I think of what could have happened because of me…?” I couldn’t finish the thought, knowing if I did, I’d end up in tears again.

  “You think this was your fault?” JC’s voice was sympathetic and incredulous all at once.

  “Because you were there for me. I should never have risked either of us in a place like that. Not for the sake of the piece of shit that calls itself my father.”

  Drew exchanged glances with Dom. “The shooting had nothing to do with your father, Gwen,” he said.

  “You can’t just assume it’s Mennezzo. That’s jumping to conclusions. A hit man wouldn’t try to shoot at JC when the place was swarming with cops. That would be ridiculous.”

  Dom nodded. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you? It’s exactly what I would have thought.”

  My stomach curled. “Do you have something to prove this theory?” I hated the idea that I’d put JC in danger, but I’d rather he’d been shot accidentally, even if I had to accept the blame. Otherwise, it meant that Mennezzo was even more menacing than I’d thought. If his men really were brave enough to strike with police crawling all over, what else would they do?

  Drew adjusted his collar. “We do have proof. The shooter was apprehended just after you left in the ambulance. He asked for his lawyer early in questioning, but, before that, he admitted to working for someone. Apparently he’d hoped that he could get away unseen in the confusion of the moment. Fortunately, he was wrong.”

  It should have been a relief to know that they’d caught the hit man—and it was—but it didn’t outweigh the anxiety of knowin
g the man who’d ordered it was still out there. Panic flooded through me like adrenaline. “If he admitted to working for Mennezzo, then can’t you revoke his bail? Take him into custody? That has to be reason enough to put him behind bars. You have to get him off the streets so he can’t do shit like this!”

  Drew shook his head. “I wish we could. But the name he gave wasn’t Mennezzo. We’re sure there’s a connection, but until we find it, we have no basis to bring him in.”

  “Then we should go undercover. That’s what you’re suggesting, isn’t it?” I had no problem with that. Anything to keep him safe. JC would have to agree to that now.

  I turned to him with urgent pleading. “You’ll take them up on the offer this time, right? You can’t argue with them. You could have died.”

  “Yes. I’ll take them up on the offer,” JC assured me. “Just…” He trailed off, his gaze drifting to Drew.

  “Just what?” When JC gave no answer, I directed my question to Drew. “What’s the just?”

  “We have indeed extended our offer again to JC for protection, and he has accepted,” he said. “Whether or not you go as well is still being discussed.”

  The expression on Drew’s face told me that it wasn’t he who was suggesting that I not go. A new lump formed in my throat, and I withdrew my hand from JC’s. “You don’t want me to go?”

  JC looked to the men in the room. “Would you guys mind if we had a minute to talk about this alone?”

  Dom nodded. “No prob. I need to restructure the men’s shifts anyway. Half of them have spent all day here, and we need to get them rotated.”

  “We’ll have a man here at all times, if that helps, Dom,” Drew said. He signaled to one of the other men in the room. “I think we have things figured out for tonight, Jerry. I’ll walk you out. I need to leave a message for the attending physician anyway.”

  They weren’t yet out the door before I jumped back into the conversation with JC. “Why don’t you want me with you?”