by Jo Davis
When they turned onto Ferris Road and got close to their destination, Taylor pulled over, killed the lights, and shut off the ignition. They’d go in quiet, scope out the situation.
The four of them moved as a unit, keeping to the road as they neared the cabin, then veering off and making the final approach through the brush. They’d have to be extra careful, since it was only late afternoon, the cover of darkness still a couple of hours away.
As the cabin came into view, it was obvious from the two vehicles parked beside it that someone was there.
“That’s Frank’s truck,” Shane said in a low voice, pointing. Then he studied the blue van. “I’ve never seen that other vehicle before.”
It was a large utility-style vehicle with blacked-out windows. Side door. No plates. Perfect for abducting someone from a parking lot. His blood pressure rose.
Shane palmed his gun and gestured between himself and Taylor. “We’ll get a look inside, see what’s going on in there.”
“We’ll take the back,” Chris said. He and Daisy palmed their weapons as well.
Before they left to circle around, Daisy looked at Shane in worry. “Be safe. Everybody,” she amended.
Forcing his thoughts to calm, Shane led the way to the side of the cabin. It was slow going, creeping from tree to tree, since there wasn’t a thing in between to mask their presence. The last few yards to the cabin were totally exposed, and he gritted his teeth as they crouched low and took off.
He didn’t take a deep breath until they reached their destination without raising a shout of alarm. Just then, the sound of a tear-filled voice reached his ears, and his heart lurched.
“Please don’t!”
He’d know that voice anywhere. Drew was in real trouble, and they needed to act fast. He and Taylor exchanged a grim look. They had to get a glimpse of everyone’s position and who was armed and with what, before busting in there.
Shane carefully rose. What he saw froze his heart. Drew was slumped in a rickety chair in the middle of the floor, one sleeve of his shirt wet and dark. Frank was holding a bloodied knife, while Carl stood to one side, egging on Ty.
Because Ty had a gun trained on Drew’s forehead.
“Christ almighty,” Taylor whispered from beside him.
Carl was shouting at Ty, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “He knows too much! Do you want me to go to jail for selling that shit to his daddy? It won’t matter that Mr. High and Mighty Football Star wanted more and more drugs to keep himself going! Oh no—they’ll blame me!”
“I d-don’t want to,” Ty wailed, gun shaking dangerously in his hands. “He won’t say anything, I promise!”
“Of course he will, stupid! Shoot him!” Carl barked.
“Let’s move,” Shane hissed. As he ran, he signaled to Chris at the back, who nodded and disappeared around the corner.
He kept his cool enough to slow down and tread quietly on the front porch, but only just. Carl’s berating of Ty was ratcheting up in volume, and the kid was bound to break any second. If that happened—
No. He wouldn’t allow it.
Shane and Taylor positioned themselves on either side of the door, and Shane pointed to himself. He’d go in first. Counting off with his fingers, he made his move on three, stepping out and kicking the door with all his strength. The wood splintered and rocketed inward, banging hard against the wall and stunning the group inside.
“Sugarland PD! Drop your weapons!” he yelled, training his SIG on the most imminent threat: Ty.
The boy swung around with the gun in hand, tear-stained face the portrait of horror. His weapon was trained in Shane’s general direction, but he was like a statue.
“Drop it, Ty!” Taylor yelled.
Carl was livid. “Shoot his ass!”
Just as Ty started to lower the weapon, Carl grabbed it from his hand, and Frank chose that moment to launch the knife in his hand at Taylor.
All hell broke loose. A crash sounded from the back as Chris and Daisy charged in. Shane and Carl took aim at each other, Shane’s enemy getting his shot off a split second earlier. He felt a punch in his left side and grunted, dropping to his knees as Drew screamed his name. Carl flew backward, crimson blooming on his chest, and fell to the floor on his back. He didn’t move again.
Frank made a dive for Carl’s weapon, but Chris was on him before he could reach it, tackling the bastard to the floor. He wrenched the man’s hands behind his back and slapped the cuffs on him.
The burn was making itself known in Shane’s side, just above his belt, spreading along with the blood starting to soak his shirt and pants. But his sole thought was getting to Drew. His son, who was terrified.
“Shane!”
“You’re going to be OK,” he said as he reached his boy. “It’s over.”
“Y-you found m-me.”
“I did. I’ll always find you, even when you don’t want me to.” He tried to smile, but winced as he reached for the knife on the floor. He was becoming light-headed, but that wasn’t going to stop him from cutting those damned ropes from his boy’s wrists and ankles.
“That asshole sh-shot you,” Drew said, breath hitching.
“I’ve had worse,” he said truthfully. But not by much, though it wouldn’t help the boy to know that.
Making short work of the bonds, he tossed the blade aside and helped Drew remove them. The second he was free, the boy was in his arms on the floor, shaking uncontrollably. Shane held him tight, barely aware of Daisy attempting to soothe Ty.
“Thank God,” he said hoarsely. “I was so afraid we’d be too late.”
“Ty wouldn’t have done it. But Carl would have if you hadn’t found me.”
Shane wasn’t convinced the other boy wouldn’t have caved, but it no longer mattered. “I’ve got you, son. It’s okay now.”
“I was going to tell you about Carl, after school. I’m sorry—”
“Shh. We’ll talk about it later.”
“This is my fault!”
“No, it’s not. None of this is your fault. Do you hear me?” It wounded his soul to hear the boy blame himself for the transgressions of men who had known better.
His vision began to blur, and his heart pounded as he struggled to breathe through the pain. Suddenly Chris was at his side, urging him to lie down.
“Come on, cuz. Hang tight. We’ve got an ambulance on the way.”
Flat on his back, he blinked, trying to remain conscious. Vaguely he registered other voices, more officers arriving. Frank was hauled away, but he couldn’t tell by whom. Faces hovered above him, drawn with worry.
He tried to point. “Get Drew’s arm checked.”
“I’m okay.” The boy gave him a watery smile. “Just a scratch.”
Daisy gripped his hand, beautiful eyes filled with tears. “I love you.”
“Love you, too. Gonna be fine,” he whispered. That’s all he could manage. His tongue felt heavy, his body weighted with bricks. He wanted to stay awake, but it was becoming impossible.
“Shane?” Drew’s frantic plea came from far away. “You can’t leave me, too! Please stay with me! I need you!”
He wasn’t going anywhere. But the words wouldn’t form.
The cabin, the people he loved most, disappeared as he was plunged into darkness.
• • •
When Shane passed out, Drew started to cry.
“No,” he moaned, shaking the man they both loved.
Daisy wrapped her arms around the boy, pulled him back and held him close. “The paramedics are here. Let’s move back so they can help him.”
Chris helped her wrestle the boy from Shane’s side, but they didn’t go far. Just enough so that the men rushing through the door had room to tend him.
Right away, she recognized the men—and one woman—as Tommy’s old teammates at Fire Station Five. Captain Howard Paxton stomped in, cursing when he saw who the injured officer was. He stood to the side, out of the way, with Eve Marshall and Julian Salvatore, Tonio’s
brother, while Clay Montana and Zack Knight crouched by Shane and went to work.
Both men snapped on latex gloves and murmured to each other in quiet tones. Clay checked his patient’s blood pressure and spoke calmly.
“Pressure’s dipping.”
He started an IV as Zack cut Shane’s shirt in half to reveal his blood-soaked torso, then set about cleaning it and applying what Daisy assumed was some sort of pressure bandage.
“Let’s get him out of here,” Zack said.
As they eased him onto a backboard and lifted him onto a gurney, Daisy’s pulse hammered in her throat. He was too still, lashes resting on his pale cheeks. A couple of the men were trying to reassure her and Drew that he’d be all right, but it wasn’t much comfort. The medics couldn’t hide the fact that they were in a hurry to get him to the hospital, that Shane was losing too much blood. She wouldn’t feel better until she saw him awake and on the mend.
She and Drew trailed the gurney out the door, but she held the boy back when he tried to climb into the ambulance. “No. We need to stay out of their way. I’ll drive you, and we’ll get you checked out while they’re making Shane better. All right?”
Zack slammed the ambulance doors shut behind Julian and nodded to the group. “We’ll take him to Sterling,” he said. Then he hopped into the driver’s seat and started the vehicle.
Drew stared at the ambulance as it rumbled off, taking the man they loved with it. The boy looked about five seconds from collapse.
“Come on,” she said, hugging his shoulders. “The quicker we see about that cut on your arm, the quicker we can find out about Shane.”
“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “OK.”
“You guys got it here?” she called to the captain, who’d arrived on the scene.
He waved her off. “Go on. I’ll be along when I can to check on Ford.”
The others expressed similar sentiments, and Chris tossed her a set of keys to the SUV he’d driven on the way. She guided Drew to the vehicle and helped him in before getting in on her own side and starting it up. The boy was silent, pale and shaken, as they rode. The ER would dress his injuries, but the wounds on his heart and soul would take much longer.
“Shane’s right,” she said. “None of this was your fault.”
“I should’ve told Shane about Dad,” he whispered. “I saw that creep, Carl, in our house a lot, dressed up like a stupid preacher. But I knew a freak like him wasn’t pushing religion. I didn’t know what to do, so I waited, thinking Dad would stop doing the drugs on his own. I thought, If he doesn’t, I’ll tell Shane. But I waited too long.”
Daisy blinked back tears. Poor boy, to carry that burden. “Neither of you had any way of knowing those drugs were so dangerous. They were supposed to be performance enhancing and undetectable by routine drug screening. Even when training camp started, your dad likely wouldn’t have stopped. He was looking to extend his career and he made a bad decision. He didn’t know they were lying about their product. But he made his choice to take the risk, Drew.”
“I still wish . . .” His voice broke, and he rested his head against the window.
Reaching over, she gripped his hand. “I know.”
“Carl murdered a man in that cabin yesterday,” he said quietly.
“What?” She glanced back and forth between him and the road.
“Yeah. Did you notice all that dried blood on the table and floor? It’s not mine. When we skipped yesterday, we came out here to see what Carl was doing. He and Frank were in there with a third guy. They were arguing about the drugs. The third man was saying that the drug was defective and needed to be improved before any more hit the street. Carl shot him between the eyes, then spotted us watching, and we ran.”
“So that’s why he was after you. God, kid, you almost got yourself killed!”
“I know it was stupid. And I was dumb to think Ty could talk him out of hurting me.” He paused. “Carl also mentioned killing someone named Holstead. Frank was in on that, too.”
“Well, Carl’s dead and we’ve got Frank now, thanks to you.” Drew was a credible witness and would have to take the stand, most likely. But it would make their case even more airtight.
They rode in silence for a few minutes. Then suddenly the boy sat up. “There’s something else. I think I might have an idea where they were making the drugs.”
“You do? Where?”
“When we painted Frank’s barn, there was a weird smell coming from inside. We poked around in there and didn’t see much, but I keep thinking maybe we missed something. Maybe he stashed them out of sight.”
She smiled at him. “That’s good work, kid. We’ll definitely get a warrant and check it out. Hey, you might make a great detective someday.”
He smiled a little at that. “Maybe. It might be cool to help put assholes in prison, like you guys do. I think Dad would like that.”
She wiped at a tear. “I know he would, kiddo.”
In the ER, the doctor and nurse, once they were finally available to see Drew, took good care of his arm. Shane had already been rushed into surgery, and most of the staff was with him. Another doctor had to be called in.
The cut on Drew’s arm was deep enough to need stitches, but the injury wouldn’t leave lasting damage, save for a scar. The teen endured the stitches like a man, not even flinching. Daisy was proud of him, but didn’t embarrass him by gushing overmuch.
Once they were finished, they were ushered to a smaller, private waiting room, where the families of more critical victims were placed away from prying eyes. That in itself set her nerves on edge, fear spiking. She tried to hide it from Drew, who was slumped in a chair, exhausted, and thought she was managing pretty well.
“Sit down. You’re making me crazy.”
Or not. “Sorry.” She flopped down beside him with a sigh.
Soon after, cops began to trickle in as word got out that one of their own was down. They made small talk, and the tension rose. Tommy and Shea arrived next, both of them making a beeline straight for her and Drew. Daisy could tell how afraid they were, but they reined it in for the teen’s sake. More than three hours had passed by the time Austin, Taylor, Chris, and even the newbie, Tonio Salvatore, were able to break away and join everyone.
The clock barely seemed to move.
Then the door swung open and a doctor stepped inside. “Is this the . . . family of Shane Ford?” he asked, brows raised at the number of people in the room.
“Yes!” several cops loudly agreed.
Daisy, Drew, Shea, and Tommy were ushered to the front of the group, and Shea acted as their spokesperson. “Dr. Chen, hello.”
“Nurse Skyler,” he said in surprise. “It’s good to see you, though not under these circumstances.”
“Thank you. I’m Shane’s sister, and everyone else here is just as much his family as I am. How is he?” she asked in a tremulous voice.
The doctor adjusted his glasses and nodded. “Mr. Ford lost a lot of blood and gave us a bit of a scare in surgery when his pressure dipped dangerously low. We had to fish out the bullet, staunch the internal bleeding, and give him two and a half pints of blood. That said, no major organs were hit. He came through after a couple of bumps, and, barring infection, I’m confident he’s going to recover well.”
Daisy’s knees sagged with relief. Drew wrapped her in an ecstatic hug, and there was a collective murmur in the room as everyone exclaimed their relief.
“He’s in recovery now, but he should be moved to a room in ICU shortly. I expect he’ll be there a day or two, then he’ll be ready for a regular room.”
“How long will he have to stay here?” Daisy asked anxiously.
“I’d guess a week, but maybe he’ll get out sooner if he’s a good boy.” The doc winked, and some of the group laughed in relief. “A nurse will let you all know his room number once he’s settled in. I’ll be by to check on him later tonight.”
With that, he left. Daisy realized she and Drew were still clinging t
o each other, so she led him back to their seats.
“I told you he was gonna be OK,” the teen said, giving her a mock look of superiority.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Right. I guess I should listen to you, huh?”
“You know it. Daisy?”
“Hmm?”
Suddenly he grew serious. “I never thought I wanted a mom, but since it looks like I’m going to get one, anyway, I’m glad it’s you.”
Tears pricked her eyes as she smiled, reaching out to push a lock of dark hair from his eyes. “And I’m glad you’re my kid. You’re a pretty great guy, and I love you.”
Blushing, he smiled. “You, too.”
“I’m a great guy?”
He snorted. “Yeah, whatever.”
“I thought Shane erased that word from your vocabulary, young man.”
“Nah. I’m a work in progress, and he’s got a long way to go.”
“I’m pretty sure he’s not going to mind at all.”
“True that. I am pretty awesome.”
Laughing, she smacked his shoulder. Both of her men were awesome, and she couldn’t wait to get started on their lives together.
As soon as Shane got back on his feet.
• • •
Shane came awake slowly.
Soft sounds penetrated the cotton in his head. A beeping noise. Shuffling. But wherever he was, it was quiet. He was lying in a comfortable, warm bed. Though when he tried to move a bit, there was a pinch in his side. He sucked in a breath because of the pain, and that hurt even more.
“Easy,” a sweet voice said. “Don’t wiggle around.”
“Daisy?”
“It’s me, sweetie. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been sat on by an elephant.”
That earned a giggle. “Not quite. Do you remember what happened?”
He thought about it. Gradually, the memory came back. “Carl shot me. Is the fucker dead?”
“As a doornail. You killed him.”
“Good riddance.” Finally he was able to open his eyes. It took a couple of minutes to focus on Daisy’s face, and when he did, he managed a smile. She looked beautiful, if a little tired, blond hair down around her shoulders, the way he loved it. “Hey.”