by Abby Blake
“I know, honey. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” She didn’t look convinced. “The doctor explained it very clearly to me. The egg was in the wrong place. It wasn’t your fault. Nothing you did or didn’t do would’ve changed the outcome.” She shook her head as tears filled her eyes once more. “It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated.
She cried harder, and he held her hand, wishing he could hold her close, but figuring that with the surgery it wasn’t really comfortable for her. The fact that she was married to his brothers didn’t seem all that important at the moment.
“It is,” she said as she tried to get her crying under control. “It is my fault. I–I blamed Brock’s accident on the baby. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, he wouldn’t have been working alone, and Lachlan wouldn’t be risking his life trying to rescue Brock. But I didn’t mean it. I wanted my b–baby.” A sob tore from her throat, and he stood up trying to get closer.
“I know you didn’t mean it. Mikayla, look at me.” When she finally raised her red, watery eyes to his gaze, he said, “This isn’t your fault. Even if you thought that way, it didn’t change anything. The doctor said this was always going to happen. Ectopic pregnancies don’t survive.” He wanted to tell her what the doctor had said about how it would never have grown to be a baby, but it probably wasn’t something Mikayla needed to hear. Her baby had been real, losing it had been painful, and recovering from the experience emotionally would take time.
She moved away from him, and his heart squeezed at what seemed to be a rejection. But then she asked him to lie on the bed and just hold her. He could do nothing but comply. He lifted his injured leg onto the edge of the mattress, taking care not to bump her, and then wrapped his arms around her upper body.
Mikayla laid her head on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. Surprised by her strange words, he wished he could see her expression when he asked why.
“I’m sorry for putting you through this when you’re already dealing with so many problems of your own.”
He tried to keep his voice casual, but a strange knot had formed at the back of his throat and he had trouble forcing the words out. “Don’t worry about me.”
“But I do worry about you,” she said quietly. “You’re not the man they think you are. It’s like you’re pretending to be that man, the one they all hate, but it’s not actually you.”
He hugged her tighter, unable to speak at that moment. Not since the split with his brothers had anyone cared about him or his problems. Yet, this compassionate, caring woman who’d just lost so much could see him, the real person, not the criminal the rest saw, and for that he would be forever grateful. He’d told his brother he’d protect Mikayla with his life, and he’d meant it at the time, but now he knew the devastation his brothers would feel without her and realized he would protect them all. His life was worthless if he couldn’t protect the people he loved, and as soon as Matt got here, Bryce would go face his troubles head on. No way would he bring any more agony to this beautiful woman or the men she loved.
Chapter Six
Matt rushed into the cabin desperate to see his wife. Silence greeted him, and he ran through the small area calling her name. When no one answered, anger boiled in his heart and mind. What the hell had Bryce done?
A quick glance around the room suggested that the occupants had left in a hurry, and a more thorough search turned up Bryce’s meager belongings including his identification and a handful of currency. Matt growled in disgust when he noticed the identification photo was very clearly his brother with shoulder-length, scraggly hair, but the name was someone else’s entirely.
Fear for Mikayla began to pound deep in his mind, and he fought to control it. He needed to think clearly. Methodically he searched the small cabin looking for anything that might give him a clue as to where Bryce might have taken his wife. He hated that his instinct was still telling him to trust the man. After everything he’d seen, there should be no way he could trust his twin, but somehow the part of his brain that obviously believed in fairytales kept telling him he should.
It was wishful thinking, plain and simple.
Realizing that the communicator was probably his best chance, Matt quickly brought up the call register. The last call had been made to the emergency number, and Matt’s heart leapt into his throat. He quickly brought up the listings for local hospitals and began calling the admissions numbers hoping that Bryce had at least had the decency to give Mikayla’s real name.
His second call yielded results, but the operator refused to give him any medical details over the phone. All he knew was that Mikayla Davidson was a patient. He sent a quick communication to his brothers and then grabbed a few things and hurried out the door.
* * * *
“Bryce?”
“Yes, honey.”
“Why does Matt hate you?”
He really didn’t want to get into this. It had been two days since Mikayla’s surgery, and even though she seemed to be in less pain, the sadness in her eyes brought him to his knees. She’d been so lively, so energetic when she’d argued with Lachlan that now she almost seemed to be another person. Bryce would do anything to give her back that happiness.
“He saw something a long time ago that he probably shouldn’t have.” He knew he was avoiding giving her the direct answer, but it felt way too good just holding her in his arms like this. He really didn’t want to explain what had happened so long ago.
“Saw what?”
“He saw me shoot somebody.” The word kill was on his tongue, but he just couldn’t force the confession past his lips.
“Why?”
“Why did I shoot somebody?” She nodded against his shoulder, and he tried hard to control his reaction. Not even Matt had bothered to ask why—not that Bryce could’ve told him at the time—but it would’ve been nice if Matt had wanted an explanation before condemning him for his actions. “She was about to do something I couldn’t let her do.” Okay it wasn’t really an answer, but he’d spent the last ten years telling lies and half truths, so the habit was pretty much part of his personality these days.
“Did she die?”
He nodded as his vision blurred with tears. Yes, she’d died. He hadn’t meant to kill her, but that was the way it was with bullet wounds. The difference between life and death was often counted in inches.
“Do you regret it?” Jesus, could this woman see into his soul? Even his boss hadn’t given him a chance to feel regret, but he’d lived with the what-ifs for so long, he knew that he’d done the only thing he could’ve under the circumstances.
“No,” he answered honestly. “I don’t regret shooting her. I wish she hadn’t died, but I don’t regret shooting her.” Mikayla lay in his arms quietly, seeming to consider his words carefully. His heart ached at the memories, but his brain couldn’t quite comprehend that Mikayla hadn’t yet pushed him away. Hell, his twin brother had condemned him without even knowing the facts, but Mikayla still lay in his arms willing to hear his explanation.
Again the sudden need to tell her everything gripped him hard, but he tried to force it away. When Matt got here, Bryce would leave. Simple as that. Mikayla didn’t need to hear his reasons for everything he’d done in the past ten years.
“Was that why you spent time in prison?” Her quiet question caught him off guard. He’d expected a demand to explain why he’d didn’t regret killing someone.
“No.”
“Mikayla!” Matt came rushing through the doorway, and Bryce flinched at the sound of his voice. It was obvious that his brother was scared for his wife, and Bryce started to move to get off the bed, but Mikayla held him tighter.
“Don’t go,” she said urgently to Bryce, obviously guessing his intent.
“I’m not going anywhere, doll,” he said with a wink as he awkwardly levered himself onto his feet.
Matt practically knocked him on his ass in his rush to get to Mikayla, and Bryce couldn’t even feel angry at the treatment. If Mikayla were
his wife, he’d run over anything that stood between him and the woman he loved.
He hopped back a few steps and leaned against the wall as husband and wife kissed briefly. Matt asked her only one question, “Are you okay?”
She burst into tears as she told him about the baby, and every instinct in Bryce demanded that he go comfort her as she explained the circumstances of her miscarriage. He did the opposite. Looking down he was surprised to see his duffle bag. Bryce glanced at the bed where husband and wife cried together and then at the bag at his feet. Matt’s wishes couldn’t be clearer. He wanted Bryce gone.
Bryce grabbed his crutches, leaned over, and hooked the bag with his hand and turned before he could do something truly stupid. Without a backward glance he left.
* * * *
Matt held his wife as she cried, and he realized that she’d probably go through this six more times as she told each of her husbands the sad news. He wanted to save her from that but had no idea how to lessen the pain. They’d all been looking forward to the baby’s birth, so he guessed they would all grieve in their own way.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he said sincerely. They should’ve found a way out of the contract. Money meant nothing when you didn’t have your loved ones close by.
“I know you would’ve been if we’d known it might happen.” She moved carefully, sat up a little straighter, clearly trying to get her emotions under control. “How is Brock?” she asked in a slightly rough voice.
“Lachlan should get to the planet sometime today. Ryan and Ty already have most of the equipment in place, so it’s just a matter of Lachlan getting down there and bringing him back up.” He was sugar coating the danger, but after everything Mikayla had gone through in his absence, there was no way he was going to add to her worries if he could avoid it.
Her gaze bounced around the room for a moment, and then she asked in a worried voice, “Where’s Bryce?”
“He left.” Matt didn’t want to talk about Bryce. He’d never felt more relieved than when he saw his brother pick up his duffle bag and disappear from their lives. If he never saw that man again, it would be too soon.
“What? No, he can’t leave. Matt, you can’t let Bryce leave.” She sounded really agitated, and for one second he hesitated. Did Mikayla know something he didn’t? But then the truth dawned on him, and even though he wanted to spare his wife the pain, he needed to tell her the full story. Whatever lies Bryce had been spinning had to be stopped. Mikayla deserved to know the truth.
* * * *
Bryce stood there, just stopped at the end of the hallway, unable to decide whether to turn left or right. He balanced on the crutches as he tried to deny the need screaming through his brain. He couldn’t leave them. Not only did he feel the need to protect Mikayla, but he wanted his brothers back. All of his brothers, but especially his twin,
For so long he’d managed to operate nearly completely alone, refusing to make close friends or keep contact with his family, but he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t be that man anymore. Mikayla had given him a reminder of what it was like to be a part of something, and he didn’t want to live without love and family anymore.
He turned awkwardly, still undecided on what to do, and that’s when he caught a glimpse of a familiar person entering Mikayla’s room. At first he was confused to see the man, especially here, and then with dawning fear he dumped the crutches, and half ran, half hopped back to Mikayla and Matt. Adrenaline buzzed his veins with every step.
He pulled the gun from his waistband, grateful for the years of experience that made it a natural movement, flicked off the safety and barreled into the room. Two gunshots rang out simultaneously.
Heart pounding loudly in his ears, every sense heightened, his mind crystal clear despite the danger, Bryce stepped over the man he’d just shot. Trying to still the shaking in his fingers, he grabbed the man’s gun, emptied it of bullets without touching the grip, and placed it on the cabinet beside Mikayla’s bed. Then he headed straight for his twin.
Matt was slumped against the wall, the bullet having hit high in his chest. “I’m sorry,” Bryce said as he checked the wound. Blood had already spread in a deep stain around the bullet hole and Bryce grabbed Matt’s hand to place it over the wound. “Matt. Yo, Matt. Stay with me. I need you to press here.” Digging deep for the ice cool personality that had gotten him through many situations like this one, Bryce tapped his brother on the face to try and get his attention. “Press here,” he said again, pushing against Matt’s hand. Matt nodded, sort of, and then pressed harder. Bryce released a shaky breath. It had never been this hard to stay in control. The fact that his family was involved was definitely messing with his head.
“Mikayla?” Matt managed to ask in a rough voice.
“She’s fine,” Bryce lied. She wasn’t fine, she was spattered in her husband’s blood and seemed to be going into shock, but she was alive, and that was what counted. But the stubborn woman also seemed determined to get to Matt, so Bryce helped her onto the floor beside her husband. “I’m going to get a doctor. Make sure he stays still.” Mikayla nodded frantically, her fear and distress very obvious. Bryce glanced at his would-be assassin, bleeding and moaning on the floor, but knew the man was going nowhere so headed to the doorway. The hall was deserted, no doubt because of the sound of gunshots, so he limped to the nurses’ counter and found two women crouched under the desk.
“I have two people with gunshot wounds in Mrs. Davidson’s room.” One woman looked absolutely terrified and probably unable to move, but the second woman nodded and crawled out from under the desk. She straightened to her full height, about a foot and a half shorter than Bryce, held her head high, and started gathering emergency supplies. As she moved quickly down the hall, Bryce glanced back at the pale woman still cowering from him. That’s when he realized he still had his gun in his hand.
Thumbing the safety back on, Bryce tucked the gun back into his waistband before telling the woman to call the police.
He didn’t look forward to explaining why he’d just shot a cop, but he needed to get this part of his life finished with. If nothing else, he wanted a chance to live a normal life. He headed back to Mikayla’s room, helped the nurse stabilize Matt, and then held Matt’s wife as she cried in his arms.
* * * *
“The bullet went straight through. The exit wound looks pretty ugly but Mr. Davidson should make a full recovery. He’ll spend some time in ICU, and we’ll let you know as soon as you can visit.” Mikayla nodded her thanks to the doctor and squeezed Bryce’s arm. The police had arrived soon after the gunshots, and of course the first thing they’d done was handcuff Bryce. It took several minutes of angry, exasperated conversation, but Bryce had given them a name and demanded that they bring the man here.
Surprisingly, the police not only did as he asked, they let Bryce sit with her while they waited. He couldn’t exactly hold her—they’d left the cuffs on him—but at least she wasn’t alone while she waited for news of Matt’s operation. Fortunately, even before Matt went into surgery, the doctors had been confident the bullet hadn’t hit anything important. A few inches lower and it would’ve been a very different story.
“Davidson!” A short, balding, angry little man waddled into the room and yelled at Bryce. “Where the fuck have you been?” He turned to glare at the police officer hovering near the doorway. “Who put fucking handcuffs on him? Jesus, take them off him for fuck’s sake.” Mikayla couldn’t quite believe her eyes when the uniformed officer jumped to attention and then did as the little man ordered. Within moments the room was empty but for Mikayla, Bryce, the little man, and another who wore a silver badge and appeared to be some kind of police detective.
“Apologies for the language, ma’am,” their taller visitor said quietly, “but we’d pretty much written this guy off as buried in a ditch somewhere.” He turned to Bryce and held out his hand. Bryce shook it and smiled. “Glad to see we were wrong.”
“Me, to
o,” Bryce said fervently. He tilted his head in her direction. “This is Mikayla. She’s my brothers’ wife,” he said by way of introduction. The short guy raised an eyebrow but didn’t offer any comment. “Did Kenshaw make it through surgery?” Bryce asked.
The detective smiled gleefully. “Yes, he did. He’ll even be able to fill in some details for us when he wakes up. I’m sure everyone in the department will be interested in how much money he got paid to betray his fellow officers. I suspect it will be a rather long conversation.”
Mikayla had about a million and a half questions, and she had no idea where to start.
“Who are you?” she asked, realizing she was being very rude and not caring one iota. She’d just seen two people shot, and if Bryce hadn’t come back, she might’ve been one of them.
“Sorry, honey. This cantankerous asshole,” Bryce said with a smile on his face and a tilt of his head toward the shorter guy, “is my boss, Henry Crane, and this smartass is my partner Josh Ryan.”
“Partner?” she asked. It didn’t feel quite real. Mikayla had been sure from the beginning that Bryce wasn’t a criminal, but she hadn’t even considered that he might be a police officer. She must’ve had a dumbfounded look on her face because Bryce squeezed her hand and smiled. “I’ll explain later.”
“The short story is,” Josh interjected, “that Bryce has been working deep undercover for nearly ten years. He’s helped crack several high profile drug rings, but on this assignment his luck almost ran out.” He looked at Bryce, seeming to assess something in the man that Mikayla couldn’t guess at and then said, “Although, maybe his luck has just begun. I’ve suspected for a while that he’s ready to retire.”
Mikayla turned to look at the man beside her as he smiled and laughed softly. “I never could hide anything from you,” he said to his partner. He turned his gaze to his boss. “You’ll have my resignation as soon as I make sure Mikayla and Matt will be okay.”