Rory

by Jordan Marie

  I come to a split-second decision that Crusher will probably fucking bitch about, but he doesn’t know the hell Rory has been through.

  “Diesel is in a coma,” I tell her, not looking at her. I can tell by the quick inward drawn breath that my simple statement delivered a gut punch. Guilt immediately hits me. The last thing Rory needs is more shit thrown her way. Unfortunately, there’s no way I can stop it.

  “Will he… Do they think he will—”

  “His kidneys have stopped working. They’ve put him on dialysis. He’s been there so long that he’s been hooked up to fucking machines over the amount of time doctors advise. It’s not good, Rory.”

  “Then why?” she whispers, her voice agonized. It is clear Crusher was right about one thing. There is something between her and Diesel, you can hear it in her voice.

  “Why?”

  “Why drag us all the way up here, if he’s gone? Why put me through that? Why put Ryan through that?”

  “Ryan deserves to say goodbye to his father while he’s still breathing—even if it is with the help of a machine.”

  “I’ll disagree with you on that. Noah wouldn’t want his child to remember him like that. There’s no way, after he fought so hard to protect him? He wouldn’t want this.”

  “There’s another reason,” I tell her, because I don’t exactly disagree with her.

  “What possible reason could there be?” she asks. I take a quick glance in her direction and find her staring out the passenger window. I can only see the profile of her face, but the pain reflected there is easy to see.

  “Love,” I answer.

  “What?” she asks, her head quickly turning around to look at me.

  “Crusher is hoping that there’s enough of Diesel left that he can hear the people he cares about the most. He thinks that will make him fight—that he will come back that way.”

  “He’s crazy,” she whispers.

  “Maybe, but I can’t deny that I’ve seen love bring someone back from death,” I tell her, and memories of a time when I almost lost Nicole invade my thoughts and I swear, it doesn’t matter that it’s been fucking years since it’s happened, I can still taste the fear.

  “Well it doesn’t matter. Crusher is wrong.”

  “Love is a powerful thing, Rory. You shouldn’t underestimate it,” I tell her. If nothing else I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.

  “Well your friend is overestimating my connection with Diesel. He doesn’t care about me,” she whispers. I look over at her and she looks more than a little lost.

  My gaze shifts back to the road. Damn. Crusher might be on to something. It’s clear that Rory has feelings for Diesel, and if I have to wager from just looking at her face right now, I’d say those feelings run deep. I know she was going to have his child. All the information we’ve gotten on her and from just meeting her, I believe she’s a good woman. Maybe Crusher is right. Maybe whatever is between them, the unfinished business that still exists, will be enough to bring my man back. I hope like hell it does. I’ve buried men before, I don’t want to do it again.

  “He doesn’t care about me at all,” she adds a little while later, after we’ve drove in silence for a bit.

  “Funny,” I murmur.

  “What’s funny?”

  “How you assumed I was talking about the feelings you and Diesel shared. When I was actually talking about him and Ryan. Makes a man think there are a lot of issues that you and he need to work on.”

  I glance over at her as I tell her that and I notice her face goes slightly pink with embarrassment.

  “There’s nothing to work out,” she whispers. “And besides, it’s too late now,” she adds.

  I frown as I stare out at the Montana road. We’ll be at the hospital in a little over an hour. We flew in to the nearest airport we could find at such short notice. I know every minute is precious and I just hope like hell that Rory is wrong.

  I hope like hell Diesel is still hanging on to even hear anything Rory might say to him. Then… I hope like hell he can somehow fight his way back.

  21

  Rory

  I feel like I’m on pins and needles the rest of the trip. Thankfully, Dragon doesn’t talk anymore and I do nothing to restart the conversation. We walk silently into the hospital and I follow him to the elevator. He didn’t stop to find out where we’re going, so I figure he knows.

  Ryan is strangely quiet too. Part of that is because he’s just woken up from a nap, but I think he’s picked up on my nerves. He’s holding my hand, squeezing it hard and it’s so tight that it’s painful. I look down at him when the elevator door closes, tugging gently on his hand so he turns to face me.

  “You okay little man?”

  “What if Daddy is mad at me because I let you get hurt?”

  His question makes the acid in my stomach churn. How do I prepare Ryan for the worst? I could kill these men for putting him through this. I crouch down so that we’re eye level. I let one of my knees rest against the floor, bring my hands up and use them to frame each side of his face.

  “You did not let me get hurt, Ryan.”

  “But it was because of me. Because I wouldn’t call the monster my Daddy,” he cries, his body trembling. I search my brain trying to figure out how to calm him down, but the tears start and seeing them shine over his green eyes and then fall against his sweet little face hurts. I will kill my brother. He deserves to die for what he has taken from me, for what he’s taking from Ryan and for the pain he dishes out without thought.

  I’m going to kill him.

  I may not have been able to before, but now… he’s changed me. Now, I’d have no problem whatsoever killing him.

  “Ryan, you were right not to call him your father. He is a monster. He’s worse than a monster and you’re not responsible for anything he did.”

  “But Daddy—”

  “I’ll go talk to your dad first. I’ll tell him everything and make sure he knows how brave you are.”

  “You will?” Ryan asks, hope shining even through the tears.

  “I will.”

  “I love you, Rory.”

  “I love you, too. I always will, Ryan. I promise. I’m always here for you—no matter what,” I promise him.

  He hurls his body at me, and even though we’re close, I still sway backwards from the force of his body. We hug, but all too soon the elevator door opens. I’ve barely stood back up when Ryan squeals.

  “Uncle Crusher! Uncle Crusher!”

  He runs straight to a large, tattooed man standing against the side of the wall. He’s got jet black hair—a little too shaggy, but I have to admit he pulls it off. There’s a touch of gray in it and it offsets his dark, brooding eyes. He’s wearing dark jeans that are faded around the hips and knees and a maroon colored thermal. Over that he’s wearing a motorcycle vest much like the one that Dragon is wearing. He holds Ryan close, pulling him up into his arms and against his body as if Ryan weighs nothing. Ryan holds on tightly, happier to see this man than he was to even see Dragon the day before.

  “Hey there Ry. Missed you buddy.”

  “I missed you too! Is ‘Kota here with you!??!” Ryan asks excitedly.

  “Afraid not, but I’ll take you to see him soon,” Crusher promises and then slowly helps Ryan back to the floor, keeping his large hand on Ryan’s shoulder. I doubt he’s using the boy for protection—but, he should.

  “Ryan? Why don’t you let Uncle Dragon take you down to the cafeteria for an ice cream while I go talk to your Dad first.”

  “Are you sure, Rory?” Ryan asks, looking so hopeful that it guts me.

  “What are you doing, Rory?” Dragon asks quietly, but I ignore him. My attention stays centered on Ryan.

  “I’m sure. You go with Uncle Dragon and I’ll meet you down there and let you know what your dad says.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “You don’t get a say in this,” I say coldly to Crusher, my eyes locking with his and my voice so
frozen that he has to know that I’m aware of the truth. I see surprise on his face and then his gaze slides to Dragon. Dragon just shrugs as a wordless conversation is carried on between them.

  “Let’s go Ryan, maybe we will get lucky and they will have chocolate ice cream.”

  “Ew. Uncle Dragon, I hate chocolate. You know I only like strawberry.”

  “Yeah, I know,” he laughs. They start to walk away and Ryan looks over his shoulder at me, tugging on Dragon’s hand so that Dragon is forced to stop.

  “Rory? You won’t be long right? I really want to see Daddy. It’s just I don’t want him to be mad…”

  “I promise, Little Man. I’ll come get you soon,” I tell him and I do my best to smile reassuringly, even though I want to scream at the unfairness of it all.

  “Okay!” Ryan says, grinning so big that it has to hurt his face.

  I close my eyes once he turns around, and then open them slowly when the chime goes off announcing the elevator doors have opened. I plaster a smile on my face then… and wait. Ryan gives me a happy wave and I smile, aching inside because his world is about to crash down around him and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. He has no idea that he’s lost his father—or at least what is coming next. He’s so happy and I won’t have time to prepare him. I’ll have to inflict pain that no child should have to endure. I know, because I remember when my stepfather died as clear as if it was just yesterday.

  “Ms. McDaniels,” Crusher says once the elevator doors close.

  My body jerks around and I don’t think—I just react.

  I reach up and I slap the hell out of the man who thought he could play games with my feelings… who thought he could give a little boy hope and then yank it away.

  The sound of my hand slapping against his face echoes, and complete shock registers on his face.

  “That’s for the hell you’re about to put that sweet little boy through. I’ve been through more than you could imagine Mr. Dawson and so help me God, if you so much as even think my name at this point I’ll kill you, are we clear?”

  “I see Dragon has filled you in.”

  “I said are we clear?” I huff.

  “We’re clear.”

  “Good. Now I’m going to go see Ryan’s father. I’m going to determine if that little boy should even see his dad like he is and then I’m going to come out here and be an adult and try to talk to Ryan about losing his dad. During that time, it’d be really good if you would stay the hell out of my way.”

  He studies my face and then finally gives me a resigned nod. I wring my hands together and look toward the door that says ICU on it, and then, even though I’m choking on fear…

  I force myself to walk through it.

  22

  Rory

  I’ve envisioned seeing Noah again ever since Crusher told me that he was still alive. I didn’t want to see him again, but still I thought about it. I imagined his scorn, his anger and sometimes late at night, in a moment of weakness, I would let my wildest fantasies free and Noah would be on his knees begging me to forgive him.

  But, not once… not in all of the time I’ve thought about him, did I envision seeing him hooked up to tubes, wires and machines.

  Not once.

  The reality of it is painful. My body goes cold, so cold that my teeth chatter. My heart slows its beat and each one jars my body, causing my chest to hurt. My knees go weak and my body sways and it takes physical effort to remain standing. Then, my mouth goes dry and yet somehow, I’m still swallowing rapidly to keep from losing the contents of my stomach.

  “His kidney function has improved. It’s not great, but there has been that improvement. He’s still in there. He’s still fighting.”

  My body jolts at the intrusion of a rough voice. I hadn’t realized there was anyone else in the room. I turn and standing by the door is a face I didn’t expect to see again. A familiar face… a face I put faith in at my lowest point and he somehow didn’t let me down. Never in my life has there been a man who hasn’t let me down or hurt me.

  Not until Agent Lodge… Gavin. I owe him so much.

  I don’t have it in me to smile right now. There are too many other emotions pushing through my system. But I do walk to him and I don’t know if it’s right or wrong, but I hug him. His strong arms come around me and I have to work to keep my body from giving in and collapsing against him.

  “I didn’t think I would see you again,” I whisper against him.

  “I told you that I’d always be close,” he says and he definitely did say that, but I’m not used to men doing what they say—unless it’s all bad.

  I step away from him, almost reluctantly. The last time we met, he helped to make sure I was hidden from King. He was in a suit and tie then. Today he’s wearing jeans, a pale blue flannel shirt and a white Stetson. He looks every inch the Montana cowboy and I’m not ready to notice a man, honestly. I don’t think I ever want another man in my life—but, I’d be stupid not to realize that he looks good both ways, but the cowboy look is definitely his best.

  “I thought he was dead,” I whisper, my gaze shifting back to Noah. “Although, I’m not sure you can call this alive,” I add. I sit down in a chair by the bed, mostly because I can’t remain standing.

  “He’s breathing some on his own, it’s not totally the machine, if he wasn’t he never would have lasted this long. But…”

  “But?”

  “They want to unhook him. Chances are he won’t survive without help.”

  “When will they do that?” I ask, pain—white hot and intense thrusts through me.

  “After you and Ryan say your goodbyes.”

  “Noah wouldn’t want Ryan to see him like this,” I argue again.

  What is it with all of these men that want to put Ryan through this?

  “Probably not, but that boy needs a chance to say goodbye to his father.”

  “He’s only five—”

  “And when he gets older, he will resent anyone who didn’t let him say goodbye to his father,” Gavin interrupts.

  “He’s so young and he’s been through so much already,” I murmur, worry thick in my voice.

  “You’ll be there for him. That boy loves you. I could see that from the short time I got to spend with you. You’ll get him through this.”

  “You have more faith in me than I do,” I tell him, wringing my hands together, unable to take my gaze away from Noah.

  “Maybe I do, but I’ve been an agent for a long time. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s how to judge people. You’re good people Rory McDaniels.”

  “You’re one of the few that think so. Even Noah… the last time I spoke with him… it wasn’t good,” I whisper. “I doubt he would want me here—and he doesn’t even know King is my brother.”

  “If he wouldn’t want you here, he’s an idiot, but that doesn’t matter right now.”

  “It doesn’t?” I ask him and finally I’m able to tear my gaze away from Noah to look at Gavin.

  “No. You have things you need to say to him. This may be your only chance, so say them. It might help you heal,” Gavin says.

  “I doubt anything can help me do that,” I tell him honestly.

  “You never know until you try,” he responds and I nod in agreement, even if I’m pretty sure it won’t help at all. “I’ll leave you alone to talk with him.”

  “He can’t hear me, Gavin.”

  “Maybe he can. In any event, you can and that’s all that matters.”

  I have no idea what he means by that. I just keep staring at Noah, wondering exactly what it is I even have to say to him. I close my eyes and allow myself to relive the memories I have of Noah and I. The good… the bad… and even the ugly. I’m so lost in them, I don’t hear the door close as Gavin leaves.

  I’m too lost in the pain.

  23

  Rory

  “This is crazy,” I whisper, standing up to go to Noah’s bedside. I hate the machines around him. He look
s so pale and unnatural hooked to them. Even his beautiful hair has lost it’s shine. Dragon said he had lost so much blood that his body had just shut down and went into a coma-like state to protect itself, but from where I’m standing… he looks gone already.

  Feeling foolish, I turn to walk away. I get to the door, my hand on the knob when I stop. It doesn’t matter if Noah can hear me. If he could, he probably would have ordered me out of the room already. It’s like Gavin said, even if Noah can’t hear me and if this is my only chance then, I do have things I want him to know.

  I walk back and stand by the bed. I awkwardly work around the medical monitors and equipment to hold Noah’s hand. It’s surprisingly warm and a little puffy. Dragon mentioned he’d been having his lungs cleaned out because of an onset of pneumonia.

  “Noah…” I start, but then stop as I try to figure out exactly what I want to say. What I say next, isn’t what I planned. What I say would probably be the last thing he wants to talk about, but that’s what comes out. “I lost our baby,” I whisper and the tears hit me without me realizing they were anywhere close to the surface. They spring up and run down my face. They run silently, unless you were looking, or could tell by the shudder in the breath I take, you’d never know it. Still, they might be the most painful tears I’ve shed and since I’ve cried often—especially lately—that means something. “I know you didn’t think the baby was yours, but it was and even knowing you didn’t want our child… I did. I really did, Noah. I don’t know why I’m here. You probably hate me…. It sure seemed like you did and if you had found out King was my brother you would have hated me even more. I don’t think I could blame you for that. I hate that we share even a little bit of the same blood between us. Although, to be fair King is nothing like my mother. Even before my mother found joy with my stepfather, she wasn’t intentionally mean. She was just cold, distant and hurtful at times. She used to say that she lost herself in the vile darkness that was my father. That same vileness must have eaten away at anything else inside of King. When he was younger, he wasn’t like this. He was a happy little boy when he lived with us… at least I thought he was.”