by Pandora Pine
41
Ronan
The ride to the hospital was surprisingly quiet. The paramedic monitored Jude’s vitals and Ronan monitored Jude. The P.I. laid calmly with his eyes shut.
“Stop staring at my chest. I’m still breathing, asshole.” Jude cracked open a golden eye.
“Why did you do that?” Ronan asked, still in shock himself.
“What?” Jude opened his eyes fully, before narrowing them to study Ronan. “Save your ass?”
Ronan nodded. “Play the hero. You didn’t have a gun.”
“Didn’t need one. I was going for Shane’s.”
“I think we can all see how spectacularly well that worked out for you; bullet in the shoulder and another one in the thigh. McNamara, meanwhile, walked away without a scratch.”
“Not true, he got one hell of a right hook from Tennyson. That boy’s gonna need an x-ray. I bet he broke his hand.”
Ronan shook his head. “I had no idea he could do that. He watches a lot of Law and Order. I guess he was doing more than just staring at Stabler’s ass.”
“Stabler has a mighty fine ass. I’d tap it.” Jude giggled. “Why doesn’t my leg hurt anymore? Am I all better? Ro, let’s go for ice cream. Tell me a story. Unicorns rock!” Jude’s eyes slid shut.
“The drugs just kick in?” Ronan laughed.
“Yup, kind of like an elephant when it gets darted out on the plains of the Serengeti. It takes a while for it to go down, but when it does, it goes down hard.” The EMT grinned.
Ronan laughed. “You just made my day. It will be my pleasure to tell him that story later. Is he going to remember any of this when he wakes up?”
The EMT shook his head no.
Trying to hide his smile, Ronan picked up Jude’s hand. “Thanks for saving my life today.”
Jude’s fiery eyes popped open. “Tenny isn’t the only one with a present.” Jude winked and passed out.
Ronan set Jude’s hand back on the gurney and leaned back against the side wall of the ambulance. How the hell did Jude know that Bertha Craig sometimes called his husband Tenny? More importantly, what did he mean when he said Ten isn’t the only one with a present? Present as in right now? Or a present as in a gift, like being able to see into the future and stop his stupid ass from getting shot. Again.
There wasn’t too much time for Ronan to think about Jude’s cryptic words. They were pulling in to the ER at Beth Israel Medical Center. He hopped out of the way when the emergency room staff opened the ambulance doors.
As they rolled Jude past, Ronan started to compile a list of all the people he needed to call, starting with Bradford Hicks. What upset him the most was that in all the time they’d known each other, Ronan had never once asked about Jude’s family, nor had his mysterious friend volunteered the information.
“Detective O’Mara?” a nurse in blue scrubs asked.
“Yes?”
“Will you come with me, please? I’ll take you to the family waiting room.”
Ronan nodded and followed along. It struck him that this is what Ten went through when he had been shot back in August.
“Does Mr. Byrne have any family we can contact?”
“I’m not sure. We haven’t known him that long. He’s been consulting on a case with the BPD.” Ronan was sure he’d be forgiven for the little white lie he’d just told. “My husband and I are the only friends he has in Boston.”
The nurse nodded. “I’ll keep you updated on his surgery.”
“Take care of him. He’s one of us.” Ronan touched the BPD badge attached to his hip.
The nurse, whose nametag read, “Angel,” nodded and left the room.
Ronan took a seat in one of the cushioned chairs. There were a lot of phone calls that needed to be made but they’d hold for a few minutes. His hands were shaking and he was starting to feel like he was going to throw up. He knew it was the adrenaline rush starting to wear off. He’d never been overly kind to Jude Byrne, but thanks to him, Ronan was going to get to go home with Tennyson tonight instead of being the one getting prepped for surgery.
“Ronan!” Ten called as he rushed into the waiting room.
“What’s wrong? Did you crash my car?” He caught his husband as Ten flew into his arms.
“No! But I wouldn’t mind one of those babies for Christmas!” Ten laughed as he held his husband tight. “Are you okay? I could feel something was wrong with you the second I walked into this hospital.”
“He saved me and I’ve been a dick to him all along.”
“To be fair, he’s been a dick to you too.” Ten pulled back to look into his husband’s eyes. “There will be plenty of time to make it up to each other when he’s home recuperating with us.”
“With us?” Ronan half-roared.
“What, we’re supposed to leave him in that tiny Cambridge walk-up apartment all alone with two useless limbs?” Ten pulled away from Ronan. “Jude’s right. You are an asshole!”
Ronan’s mouth fell open, but no sound came out. He was about to plead his case with Ten when his husband let out a strangled laugh. Jude Byrne wasn’t the only asshole in his life, not that Ronan was going to say that out loud. He was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. He knew damn well that oh-fuck-you-almost-died sex was the hottest kind there was. “We’ve got stairs too, you know. What am I supposed to? Carry him around like a bride over the threshold? He looks like he’s a heavy bastard.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Just so you know, I called Bradford Hicks after the ambulance left. I also called Carson, who’s going to let everyone else know what’s up. Truman’s gonna grab Dixie for us. Fitzgibbon will be along as soon as he’s done at the scene.”
“Listen, there’s something I need to talk to you about before everyone else gets here.” Ronan took Ten’s hand and guided him to a nearby couch.
“What is it?” Ten seemed to be studying him.
“In the ambulance, when Jude started to get loopy from the pain meds they were giving him, I figured it was a good time to thank him for saving my life. The EMT said he wouldn’t remember any of this conversation anyway, so, you know…”
Ten rolled his eyes but didn’t interrupt.
“He looked like he was out cold, which is why I spoke to him, but I guess he wasn’t. His eyes popped open and he said to me, ‘Tenny isn’t the only one with a present,’ and then he passed out. What do you think it means?”
“It’s a real head scratcher, isn’t it?” Ten tried to get up from his seat, but Ronan reached out to stop him.
“Oh, no you don’t. You stay right here and explain this me.”
“Fine,” Ten sighed. “He could mean one of two things. Present as in past, present, future. Or, what I think is more likely is that he meant present as in gift. It’s not a huge jump to think Tenny is a nickname for Tennyson. I mean, shit, it’s the first five letters of my name, but when you couple it with the fact that Bertha calls me that when I’m upset, then I think it’s more than coincidence.”
“You don’t believe in coincidence.”
Ten nodded. “That’s reason number two I think he’s got some kind of a gift. Keep in mind that I can’t read him at all. He might not be psychic per se, but maybe have a highly developed sense of intuition. In his job, he would need that to keep himself safe from enraged spouses or equally enraged people who’ve had their medical disability fraud uncovered.”
“So explain how he heard Bertha call you Tenny.”
“There are a couple of reasons for that. Bertha could have appeared to him in a dream. Jude could have heard some of a conversation when she was present, or he could have used his intuition to reason it out. Plus, you said he was under the influence of the pain meds and sometimes that loosens us up to gifts we didn’t know we had, making us more receptive.”
“What, you mean like when your car radio starts picking up a far-off station and the signal is staticky?”
“Right, I think it would be more accurate to
say when the signal comes in and out as if you were turning the volume dial up and down, but yeah, same kind of thing. Without being able to read him, we might never know what happened in the ambulance, since he isn’t the most open of men.”
“I was thinking about that when they were unloading him from the ambulance. He’s never said a word about his family or where he’s from.”
“We’ll be his family for now.” Ten nodded. “On to the other news of the day, I’m sure Fitzgibbon will fill you in later, but Shane McNamara engineered Lorraine McAlpin’s murder to destroy the family that gave him up. He said he left his DNA at the crime scene on purpose, knowing it would lead back to Tim or Tank Hutchins. Shane didn’t much care which, figuring each brother would know they didn’t kill the girl and would blame the other. Whichever one ended up in jail would know his brother sent him there and their mother would be caught in the middle.”
“Jesus Christ. Do you think Jude is running from something like that?”
“For his sake, I sure hope not. People leave home for a lot of reasons, Ronan. I’m proof of that.”
“Thank God, Nostradamus. I hate to think how dull and boring my life would be without you in it.”
Ten rested his head on Ronan’s shoulder. “Eleven days to our appointment with the surrogacy clinic.”
Ronan started to laugh. “This is going to work our first time out.”
“What makes you say that?”
“A little bird told me.”
Ten laughed along with him. “A little miss you mean?”
“Maybe.”
“On our wedding day, she whispered something to me.”
“I remember. She said ‘I love you to Dublin and back,’ just like my mom used to say to me.”
Ten nodded. He pressed a kiss against Ronan’s neck. “She whispered something else. Something I kept to myself. I know so much with my gift and you’re lucky enough to still have the gift of surprise in your life.”
“What else did our little miss tell you? Winning lottery numbers? The name of our first female president?”
Ten chuckled. “Her birthday.”
Ronan took a sharp breath. “Ten, I’m blown away. That she’s real. That’s she’s ours. That I’m worthy of this gift.”
“You’re stalling. Do you want to know?”
On a day where he likely could have died, there was nothing he wanted to know more than the day when his daughter would take her first breath in this world. “Yeah. Tell me.”
Ten leaned over and whispered the date in Ronan’s ear.
“Valentine’s Day?” Ronan burst out laughing. “She’s not even here yet and already she’s got a flair for the dramatic.”
“There’s no doubt she’s your daughter.”
There was no doubt Ronan O’Mara was the luckiest man alive. Thanks to Jude Byrne.
EPILOGUE
Tennyson
Christmas morning…
The wait was killing Tennyson. He was sitting on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. Dixie was sitting in his lap looking dazzled by the white lights on the tree. Everyone was gathered in their living room waiting for Christmas to start, with the exception of Cole, Cassie, and Laurel.
“I hope everything’s okay.” Ronan joined Ten on the floor.
“I’m sure everything’s fine. Laurel probably didn’t want to leave her toys,” Kaye said.
“Or they’re getting a little last-minute Santa nookie,” Jude said from the couch, his injured leg propped up on the coffee table.
“Last-minute nookie isn’t possible with a two-year-old in the house.” Carson laughed. “At least with the babies, we can pen them up and go at it like-”
“Hey, asshole! My son is in the room!” Fitzgibbon barked.
“Hey asshole, our babies are in the room!” Truman barked right back. “Swear jar!”
“Guys, it’s Christmas! Can we please not say asshole!” Tennyson pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a headache coming on.
“You just said asshole!” Ronan pointed out.
“You’re in the thick of it now, Tenny! Asshole soup!” Bertha Craig cackled.
“Eeeeee!” all three babies screeched.
“I think that’s their way of saying ‘swear jar,’ Mom. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you too, Carson. You know they’re saying Mimi!” She hugged her oldest son. “Where’s Cole?” She winked.
“You know where he is,” Carson whispered.
“Hey, no whispering about me behind my back on Christmas, Bertha. If you’re gonna talk about my fine ass, say it loud, say it proud.” Ronan laughed.
“Tell handsome that those damn flannel pants do nothing for him. He gets a two for originality. He needs some of those form-fitting pants. What do you call them, spankings?”
Carson and Tennyson burst out laughing. “You mean spanks?” Carson asked.
“No, I think she actually meant spankings.” Ten shook his head. He hoped Santa brought him a big-ass bottle of Advil. “Bertha gave you a two, babe. Apparently, your pants aren’t tight enough for her exacting standards.”
“Now, as for this red-hot babe.” Bertha sat next to Jude on the sofa. “He’s a perfect ten.”
“Are you sure you want to say that, Bertha? It’s gonna start World War III.” Oh, yeah. Ten had a headache.
“I’m Bertha’s new love muffin, huh?” Jude grinned. “Suck it, O’Mara!”
“No one is sucking anything! What the hell is this, kindergarten?” Fitzgibbon shook his head. “Maybe we should start opening presents?”
“Cole and Cassie are here now.” Carson got up from his seat. “I’ll go help them wrangle Laurel. She’s super-excited about seeing us all.” He winked at Tennyson.
“What’s going on with all the winking? If I didn’t know better, I’d think you all were coming down with a raging case of pink eye.” Ronan looked confused.
“Patience, young Jedi. All will be explained.” Ten kissed his husband.
“Sissy, Ro!” Laurel announced when she came into the house a few minutes later. She ran to him holding a new doll.
Ronan laughed. “It’s not the first time I’ve been called that before, but it is the first time by a toddler. “Merry Christmas, cutie pie. What have you got there?”
“Sissy, Ro!” She said louder this time.
“Okay! I heard you the first time!” He went for the zipper of her heavy winter jacket.
“We all heard her!” Jude snorted. “Twice.”
Ronan took off the little girl’s coat and got a look at her shirt. “Oh! I get it. ‘I’m the big sister!’ he read from her tee-shirt.
“Sissy!” Laurel tapped her chest.
“Congratulations, honey! You’re gonna be the best big sister ever!” Ronan pulled the little girl into his arms. “Is that what you and Carson have been winking about all morning?”
“Yup!” Ten leaned over to hug Laurel too.
“I guess the word is out?” Cole asked.
Fitzgibbon clapped the man on the back. “Laurel raced into the living room calling Ronan a sissy.”
Cole barked out a quick laugh before covering it with a cough. “Sorry I missed that.”
“No worries, man! I recorded it!” Jude held up his iPhone.
“Of course you did, asshole!” Ronan muttered.
“Asshole!” Laurel parroted faster than Tennyson could slap a hand over her mouth.
“That’s my girl!” Bertha cackled.
“Am I late for the grand unveiling?” Erin O’Mara asked, making a sudden appearance of her own.
“What is this, a game show?” Bertha asked. “Did I win a candy-apple red heaven-mobile?”
“Erin’s here,” Tennyson announced. “She wants to know if she’s late for the grand unveiling.” This was what Tennyson was equal measures nervous and excited about. He had two giant surprises this morning, but this was only the first one.
“No.” Ronan laughed. “You’re not late for the grand unveiling, M
om. Merry Christmas by the way. Ten, while we’re waiting, why don’t we start with our present to everyone first, okay?”
“Sure, babe.” He dropped a kiss on Ronan’s head and got up from the floor. A lot had changed in the five weeks since the Hutchins case had wrapped up, both professionally, and for him and Ronan personally.
Once Shane McNamara aka Travis Hutchins, the missing triplet, had been taken to police headquarters he’d started singing like Lin-Manuel Miranda on opening night. Not only had he recapped his life with his adoptive father, Dick, he’d also given more details on how he’d poisoned the man with arsenic. That had all been confirmed after the man’s body had been exhumed for an autopsy.
The story only got more diabolical from there. Shane went on to detail how he’d found his birth family through public records and how he’d spent an entire year stalking Jennifer, Tank and Tim’s entire family, including his three small nephews. Once he had the lay of the land, as it were, he’d started planning how he was going to exact his revenge.
Lorraine McAlpin, as it turned out, was a nice woman who’d helped Shane pick out a tasty frozen dinner at a local grocery store one night. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time and had, unfortunately, made a perfect victim for Shane to use against his birth family.
Ronan and Fitzgibbon had been the ones to take Shane’s confession. He refused to speak with anyone else. Tennyson had seen the way the daily sessions with Shane had worn both his husband and Kevin down. It had been his job, when all was said and done, to go in and see if Shane had been telling the truth. He had been. Every disgusting, vile word of it.
The confession had been enough to get Tank’s conviction overturned. He was released from MCI-Cedar Junction on December 23, just in time to reunite with his fractured family for the holidays. Tennyson didn’t even want to think about what Christmas morning looked like in the Hutchins’ house. Tank was a free man and that’s all that mattered.
Once all of the identical bright red boxes were handed out to everyone, Ten took his seat back on the floor with Ronan. “Okay everyone, go for it!”
“This is so exciting! I wish I had a box too!” Bertha grumped.
Ten reached under the tree and pulled out two more identical boxes. “Here you go, ladies!” He couldn’t help wrapping two extra boxes for Bertha and Erin.