He tore off his shirt, pressed the balled material to the knife wound, and prayed for the blood to stop flowing so fast. Even through the streaks on her face, he could see the color leaving, the life draining slowly away.
“Don’t you give up on me! Not now.”
She gave no reply, not even a twitch as his shirt slowly began to saturate with blood.
Chad’s head dropped, helpless, his tears becoming sobs. This wasn’t a nightmare. This was real, and it was his fault. He was going to lose her, right here on this cold tile floor.
Shouts came from the yard, growing louder as they reached the room, but their words were somehow muffled, as though he were underwater, staring up at the surface.
Suddenly, his hands were pulled free, and blue uniforms surrounded Laila, like ants on a dropped piece of candy. He tried to get back to her, but warm hands pulled him backward, and somehow he had no energy to fight. He could only stare at his skin, still coated with her sticky blood, already starting to dry.
Shivers racked his body, his teeth chattering as he continued to watch his shaking palms.
Someone shined a light in his eyes, and he flinched, the nausea reacting in his stomach. Dry heaves pulled at his chest, arching him forward, a bolt of pain slicing through his abdomen.
The room suddenly began to move back and forth, up and down, and black coated the edges of his vision. He embraced it.
Without her, there was nothing but darkness anyway.
Chad sat in the ICU waiting room, still as a statue. They’d cleaned him up, washed Laila’s blood from his body, and given him a pair of puke-green scrubs to wear until someone could bring him new clothes.
The police had asked him a million questions, or the same questions a million times, he couldn’t remember. His recount never faltered. He’d heard her scream on the phone, called 911, and drove as fast as he could to their house.
Yes, he had been by himself when she called.
No, he didn’t hurt his wife.
The men in blue had finally left twenty minutes ago with a promise to be in touch.
Now, he was numb. Completely, blissfully numb. Not even the whispered voices at the nurses’ station or the woman knitting in the corner felt real.
“Chad?”
He lifted his head just enough to see Katie and Asher rush into the waiting room. He must have called them, but he didn’t remember doing it.
Katie knelt before him, and he wanted to curse and push her away. His chest burned, his mouth swelled. The numbness was slipping away.
She touched his cheeks with her palms, her eyes lost in a sea of anguish.
“I’m going to kill him,” he said, his jaw hard, his eyes burning almost as much as his throat.
“First, you need to tell me what happened.” She glanced nervously at her husband, then around the room, as if a cop might jump out of the corner and arrest Chad. They probably should. He was responsible for all of this.
“Laila talked to a special agent out of the southeastern office. Slim must have found out, somehow. He attacked her.” Every line felt disconnected, much like it had with the cops earlier. They were just words; they didn’t equate to the broken body he’d seen on that floor.
Katie slowly stood and dropped into the seat next to him, shock and horror plastered across her open-mouthed stare. “Why would she do that?”
“To protect me. Because of what happened last week.”
They met each other’s eyes, and he knew she could see his promise to kill was not an idle threat. Chad knew exactly what he was doing. He’d make that deal with Agent Edwards. Only he wasn’t just going to be their errand boy. When the time came, when Slim was close enough, he’d plant a bullet in his chest.
Asher stepped closer, then took the spot on the other side of him. Chad had almost forgotten he was there.
“What’s your plan?” he asked.
Chad felt his body lock up. Asher’s intrusion was unwelcome and unnecessary. “What do you mean?”
“For revenge. That’s what you want, right? Vengeance?”
Chad met his eyes, challenging him. “Yes. Tell me you wouldn’t want the same if Slim had smashed Katie’s skull, broken her arm, and then stabbed her with a blunt knife.”
Asher winced but didn’t back down. “So, after you kill Slim, what then?”
The answer was simple. He’d die in the process or go to jail. Then Laila would be free. “She’ll go back to Ben. They’ll build a life in Burchwood, and she’ll never get hurt again. That’s what would have happened if I hadn’t been so selfish. It’s where she should have always been.”
Katie grabbed his hand and squeezed, but it didn’t bring comfort, only the blurring of his vision as he looked down at the blue carpet. “It’s my fault. I should never have come home.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s Slim’s. Don’t take on that man’s guilt,” Asher said, his voice unwavering.
Chad didn’t respond. He didn’t need Asher’s reassurances. He needed this hole in his chest to go away. He needed the numbness back. He needed to erase every single minute of today.
The wretched tears came again, spilling down his cheeks and onto his neck. His wife was in surgery right now because he couldn’t say no to that thin white line. Laila could die because, deep down, he was nothing but a weak coward.
Asher’s hand fell onto his shoulder. He wanted to shake it off until he heard a soft prayer asking for healing and protection coming from the other man’s mouth. A prayer for justice for those responsible.
Chad closed his eyes. He wouldn’t stop a prayer. Not if it helped her somehow. God may have forsaken him, but he deserved no less. Laila, on the other hand, deserved everything.
“Mr. Richardson?”
Chad sprung from his chair and dried his face with the cuff of his borrowed scrubs. “Yes. Right here. How’s Laila?”
Dr. Malone had on scrubs identical to Chad’s, with a mask hanging from his neck. He was older, a chief of something, Chad had noted when they’d first spoken.
“Laila’s in recovery. The surgery went well. The knife lacerated a small piece of her liver, but we were able to repair it without complications. The contusion to her temporal lobe is our bigger concern. The CT scan showed signs of swelling, so we’ve put her into a medical coma until the threat recedes.”
“How long will she stay like that?”
“Hours, maybe days. Every patient is different.” Professionalism emanated from his voice, steady and unfazed.
“Can I see her?”
“Not yet. I’ll send a nurse up once your wife is settled in a permanent room. Probably another hour.”
“Thank you.”
Dr. Malone nodded once and left the waiting area with little compassion. This wasn’t the end of his life. It was just another day on the job.
Chad watched the door until it clicked shut. Liver, temporal lobe, coma.
“We were going to be married in ten days. On the beach,” Chad said to no one. “We were supposed to get a second chance.”
Katie wrapped her arms around his bicep, put her chin on his shoulder. “You heard the doctor. Laila is going to recover. You are still going to get your second chance.”
No, he wasn’t. Not until Slim was dead.
“I have to go take care of something.”
“Chad, stop,” she pleaded. “Slim isn’t worth your freedom or your life.”
“My life is worth nothing!” Chad detangled from Katie’s grip, his guilt, shame, and regret balling up in his chest, glowing hot and red. He was wrapped around it, growling at her; at the same time he wanted to beg her to rescue him from this pain. “All I’ve ever done is bring heartache to everyone who’s loved me. My mom. You. Laila. Even Cooper. It has to stop.”
“Yes, it does. But this isn’t the way.” Her eyes were soft with concern, unhurt by the sharpness of his tone.
He spun around and spread his arms. “So Slim just gets to walk away free? He has no consequences?”
“No.” Asher had once again joined their conversation. “You work with the cops. You give them what they need to do their job. Trust me, revenge has no boundaries. There is no safe place once it takes over your heart.”
He let his hands fall to his hips. Even though every part of him hummed with hatred for the man, Chad had no idea if he could pull the trigger on Slim. And if he did, what then? He was just trading one captivity for another. “I can’t work with the cops. If I do, this will only happen again.”
Katie stepped closer. “Okay, then let it go. Move to Burchwood. Change your life.”
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last year?”
“I’m not talking physically, Chad. If you want freedom, true freedom, surrender is the only way to find it. You have to give up control. You have to let go.”
His voice cracked. “Let go of what? I am nothing.”
“Exactly,” Katie all but pleaded. She began to speak urgently, and since he had nowhere to go, he listened. But through the words and the promises, only one thought remained central in his mind.
This day would be avenged.
CHAPTER 41
The fade into consciousness happened slowly, like a thick fog lifting or turning into a soft drizzle. The haze was still there, just in a different form.
Laila felt soft sheets beneath her and a thick blanket against her skin. Her left hand was pressed into something warm and vaguely familiar. She tried to move her right one, but it felt trapped, locked away and immobile.
“Laila, this is Dr. Malone. Can you hear me?”
She tried to open her eyes, but they seemed glued together, her mind trying again and again with no response. The warmth spread from her hand, up her arm, and into her head, where a sudden rush of pain made her gasp. The throbbing grew, moving down her face, into her scorching throat, and across her torso. “It hurts,” she whispered, barely able to form the words through her cracked throat.
She felt a straw at her mouth and sucked in the moisture, only that hurt too, a stinging across her lips like a paper cut.
Suddenly, the haze vaporized and her veins filled with icy awareness. She felt her body panic, the image of that face next to hers, the darkness in his eyes, the total lack of mercy.
A beeping sound filled her ears, growing faster and faster.
“Laila, honey, calm down. You’re safe. I’m right here.”
“He had a mask.” The beeping jumped again as the memory of those eyes ripped at her mind—cold, evil, unwavering.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to think about it. Not right now.”
Chad’s voice wrapped around her, melting away the images.
“Chad?”
“I’m here.” She felt a hand on her forehead, heard the ache in his voice as his lips pressed against her eyelids. A drip of moisture fell on her cheek, from her or him, she wasn’t sure.
Her heart settled back down, and finally, her eyes seemed to cooperate, opening slowly, Chad’s face a blur against the bright light above.
The other voice began to speak, the detached one that used medical terms she didn’t want to hear.
She only wanted to look into Chad’s eyes.
“Can you give us just a minute?” he asked, looking up.
“A brief one,” the man answered and quietly left the room.
Chad watched him exit, then focused back on her with such grief and fear in his eyes that speech failed her. She couldn’t imagine the horror he faced when he’d found her, battered and unconscious.
The inescapable scars etched in both of them would be deep and long lasting.
Soft fingers stroked her cheek—light, yet still she felt a sting of pain. “I’m so sorry,” he said.
She knew that tone. It was the one he’d use before walking out. The one that meant he’d given up the fight.
“Me too.” Her own defeat mirrored his.
He knew. They both knew. Things could never be what they had wanted.
Chad was going to have to deal with her attack his way, and she would have to let him, even if that meant the worst outcome for both of them.
He would die to protect her. Even from himself.
As if he could read her mind, Chad pressed his forehead to her chest and sobbed. Carefully, she moved her unbroken hand and ran her fingers through the dark strands of his hair, wishing like he did that they could go back to the beginning, before life became so burdensome, before one man’s evil shattered all their dreams.
CHAPTER 42
Cooper slammed his front door with a fury that had Chad bristling in his seat.
“You skipped work again?” he demanded. “It’s the third day this week, Chad. I can’t keep covering for you.”
“Then don’t.” Chad sat up on the couch, his chest bare, his eyes red rimmed and cracked from the lack of sleep. His head throbbed. His body ached. He checked his phone and winced. How was it already eight at night?
Cooper took a deep breath, ran his hands over his face, and sat down across from him, calm as a rodeo bull in a pen. “So Laila left you. This isn’t the way to deal with it.”
“She didn’t leave me. We left each other,” Chad corrected, rubbing his temples. It’d been two weeks since he’d last seen or spoken to her. Two horrible weeks of being a person he hated. But there was no other choice. No other option.
“Fine. You left each other. But that doesn’t mean you have to fall back into the pit. Joe said—”
“I don’t want to talk about Joe.” With steely eyes, Chad challenged his friend. “He kicked me out. He called me my father.”
“You ordered a drink in his bar, Chad, not a week after Laila was attacked. What did you think he was going to do? Tap the keg for you?”
He smirked. “It would have been more polite.”
Cooper clenched and unclenched his fist. “There are rumors going around that you’re using again. Heavier stuff this time. Is it true?”
Chad shrugged. “Does it matter? I’m not doing it here.”
“Yes, it matters! I put my name on the line for you.”
“Well, I never asked you to, okay? This is me. Take it or leave it.” He slammed a hand against his chest, hating himself almost as much as Cooper seemed to at the moment. “Without Laila, I have nothing. So, yeah, I’ve gone out a few times. It’s either that or lose my mind.”
“I won’t watch you self-destruct again,” Cooper said, his face a mask of determination and unchecked anger.
“Oh, really, Mr. High and Mighty? Where have you been, by the way? Your shift ended five hours ago.”
“I had some paperwork to finish up.”
“Yeah, and happy hour at Joe’s. I can smell it from here, so don’t lecture me on drinking, you hypocrite.”
“I’m not the alcoholic,” Cooper growled.
“You sure about that? I saw your stash that first night. Don’t tell me you didn’t drown your sorrows after Katie booted you.” Chad’s stomach cramped with every cruel word. “You can’t even say her name without grimacing.”
Cooper stood, rage pulsing off of him. “You skip work again, and you’re no longer welcome in my house. I won’t enable you.”
“Don’t bother waiting. I’ll be gone by morning.” Chad grabbed his cell phone off the coffee table and stormed past his roommate.
Cooper gripped Chad’s bicep, his hand tight and threatening enough to stop his retreat. “Don’t be this person again.”
He ripped his arm away without a word and slammed his bedroom door. A responding crash came from the living room. Chad ignored the rush of guilt and packed his duffel bag. What did it matter anyway if Cooper hated him? After tonight, it would be over, finished, his fate sealed tight.
He sat on his bed and gripped his phone. Slim’s guy should have called by now. They had a deal: Chad would work another party if Slim gave him access to the monster who had attacked Laila. The meeting was supposed to go down tonight.
Finally, after another fifteen agonizing minutes, the
call came.
“Richardson,” he answered, trying to sound fearless.
“We’re on. Two hours. Meeting spot is Ray’s Storage off 95. Number seventy-eight.”
“And Garcia will be there?” His heart pounded against his ribcage. Slim should have known the giant couldn’t be controlled. Chad had seen that the first time he’d met him at the drive-in. It was in his eyes, that need for violence.
“Slim will give you the details. Just show up alone.”
The man hung up before Chad could ask any more questions. He forced a calming breath through his lungs.
Katie had told him vengeance belonged to God. Well, tonight, he had every intention of helping things along.
Standing in front of the dark storage building, Chad’s hands felt twitchy and cold. He’d been waiting for over thirty minutes now, and Slim was nowhere in sight. He checked the address he’d written down against the numbers on the steel building. They matched. This was where he was supposed to be.
Finally, headlights appeared, moving closer until they paused a few yards away. Chad cupped a hand over his eyes as fear wove its way through his bones, thick and pressing. Two weeks, he’d waited for this moment. To be face-to-face with the man who’d destroyed his life.
The lights went dark, leaving only spots in his vision to blink through.
Shadows exited the car, but neither of the men were Slim.
Chad squinted, scanning them both until recognition hit him square in the chest. “Dalton?” he asked as the gangly teen approached him.
Dressed in sagging jeans and a Fall Out Boy T-shirt, he looked ready for a night at the movies, not a sketchy drug exchange. “Hey, you remember me!” The kid grinned, goofy and unaffected by the atmosphere they were in.
Chad’s stomach twisted. Dalton wasn’t even twenty yet. What in the world was he doing here? He had his whole life ahead of him. “Of course I remember you. You followed me around our neighborhood like a lost puppy.” He embraced the teen, ruffling his hair, then held him by the shoulders. “You shouldn’t be involved in this stuff.”
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