Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel

by Christy Reece

  Chapter Four

  A whisper of sound woke Kennedy, and she smiled sleepily. Thomas. He was talking in his sleep again. He hadn’t done that in a while. She reached over to touch him as she had so many times in the past. The place where he slept was cold and empty. Frowning, she blinked open sleep-heavy eyes and looked around. The room was dark and still…empty. Where was he? Had he gotten up, and she hadn’t heard him? She twisted her head slightly, and then it hit her, as it had the past three nights. Thomas was gone. She would never be able to touch or hold him again.

  She turned to curl up in a tight ball, needing to release the grief. A low, dull pain in her back stopped her. She’d been feeling a little ache there all day but had thought it was because she had been on her feet too much in heels. Now she wasn’t so sure. She reached behind her to rub the spot, and the pain increased. Another one followed, this time in her belly. Frantically, Kennedy placed her hand on her stomach. The baby had quieted down for the past few days, but that was all. She’d just been quiet...nothing more.

  The pain hit her again, this time harder. Whatever the problem was, she needed to get to the hospital right away. Nothing could happen to her little girl. She swung her legs off the bed and grabbed her cellphone. Just one key to punch, and she would be in touch with Nick. He would be here within minutes and take her to the hospital. Agony struck. She grabbed her belly, the cellphone dropped from her hand. A streak of fire slashed through her, like the blade of a white-hot knife had been plunged deep within her womb. A warm gush of wetness flooded down her legs. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t.

  Fiercely determined to save her child, Kennedy reached for the cellphone lying on the floor. She had to call someone…anyone. God, please don’t let this be happening. Her fingers grazed the phone…excruciating agony ripped through her. She screamed.

  In the midst of rifling through Thomas O’Connell’s desk drawer, the man jerked up at the sound. What the hell?

  Another unearthly bellow echoed through the empty house.

  He glanced around the room. Fifteen minutes of looking through every file and folder in O’Connell’s small study, and he had found nothing. Whatever information the man had, it wasn’t here. Now he had a decision to make. Pretend he hadn’t heard the screams and leave or go help?

  Hell, he might be a heartless, unfeeling bastard, but even he wasn’t that cold. Exiting the study, he ran upstairs toward the sound of the cries and shoved open the door. The flashlight in his hand speared the darkness. His eyes took in the woman on her knees beside the bed, almost bent double in her agony.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She gasped out “Who are—” Pain distorted her face, and she cried, “My baby…something’s wrong.”

  He reached for her, and she tried to back away. “No, who are—” She broke off and gasped out a soft, anguished sob.

  He lifted her gently, laid her on the bed, and said firmly, “You have nothing to fear from me. I promise.” Pulling pillows from the top of the bed, he placed them under her feet. Taking the cellphone she must’ve dropped on the floor, he punched in 911. With the other hand, he took Kennedy O’Connell’s pulse. Rapid…way too rapid. When the operator answered, he told her the situation. She gave him instructions and assured him an ambulance would be there within ten minutes.

  Ten minutes? Screw that. He could get her to the hospital in five.

  “Okay, hold on. We’re going to the hospital.”

  Scooping her into his arms, blankets and all, he rushed down the stairs and out the door. He placed her as gently as he could in the back seat of his SUV and then jumped in. It was past midnight…traffic was light. Ignoring every traffic light and stop sign, he pulled into the emergency entrance four minutes later and jumped out. Pulling open the back door, he cursed under his breath when he saw the blood. Damn…there was so much of it.

  With soft utterances of reassurance that he knew in his gut were lies, he pulled the semiconscious woman into his arms and raced inside the hospital.

  “I need help!” he shouted.

  Nurses ran forward. A gurney appeared, and he relinquished his hold on the woman in his arms. Her face whiter than the sheets she lay on, her eyes closed into what looked like death. When the gurney disappeared behind closed doors, knowing he could do nothing more, he turned to leave.

  A young woman in a nurse’s uniform appeared before him. “Sir, would you step over to the desk, please? I have some paperwork that needs to be filled out.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know her. I was walking to my car and found her out front.”

  Her eyes widened—she’d bought his story. “Oh. Well, thank you for carrying her inside.”

  “She did manage to tell me her name is Kennedy O’Connell. That’s all I know.”

  Taking advantage of the woman’s inattention as she scribbled on the clipboard in her hand, he turned and strode quickly out the door. He was halfway to his car when he happened to catch a glimpse of his hands. Blood. Everywhere.

  Shit. Memories he’d fought a lifetime to smother flashed before his eyes. With a loud, vicious curse, he dove into his car and sped out of the parking lot.

  Nick sat in the waiting room, waiting for word on Kennedy. If not for fellow police officer Pete Stark, whose wife, Holly, was an ER nurse, he might not have even known Kennedy was here, fighting for the life of her child and possibly her own.

  One minute after Pete called him, he’d been on his way to the hospital. Julie had already been here, pacing—the slippers on her feet a testament to her need to get to her friend as soon as possible.

  Nick had barely even noticed that his own feet were bare until Julie had pointed them out. Thankfully, Julie’s husband had been kind enough to bring him socks, shoes and a shirt before heading into work. Nick and Julie now sat in the waiting room, and in between jerking their heads up every time they heard a noise, they talked in soft, low tones about the damn cruelties of life.

  A nurse had come by a half hour ago and given them the somber news that they were doing everything they could to save the baby but it wasn’t looking good. When he’d asked about Kennedy, the woman had just shrugged and repeated the same words: “We’re doing everything we can.”

  Nick gazed down at the paper cup of cold coffee in his hand. Hell, he didn’t even remember how it got there. His total focus was on Kennedy. What was she going to do if she lost the baby? What if she didn’t make it?

  He shoved a hand through his hair, guilt eating at him like a ravenous beast. “Dammit, I should have insisted on staying with her last night.”

  Julie shook her head. “I’ve experienced Kennedy’s stubbornness. Once she makes up her mind about something, talking her out of it is almost impossible.”

  “But why didn’t she call me…or you? Why the hell would she drive herself to the hospital?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe she wasn’t thinking straight.”

  Nick rubbed his tired, bloodshot eyes. No matter what Julie said, he blamed himself. If he had stayed, both she and the baby might have been fine. They might die because of his carelessness.

  “Does she know you’re in love with her?”

  Flinching at the question, Nick twisted his head around to stare at Julie. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Kennedy. Does she know?”

  Hell, was he that obvious? Nick shook his head. “You got it wrong. She’s Thomas’s wife and my friend. Yeah, I care about her. I don’t love her…at least not the way you’re implying.”

  She gave a small knowing smile, shrugged. “My mistake. But just so you know, it’s not a crime to love a woman.”

  “Might not be a crime, but it’d be damn wrong. Thomas was my best friend.”

  “You don’t choose who you love.”

  “No, but you can make sure the love you have doesn’t hurt someone else.” Nick pushed up from the chair. “I don’t even know why we’re having this conversation. Kennedy is my friend. Nothing more.”<
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  “She’s going to need you more than ever now.”

  “And she has me for as long as she needs me. I’ll be there for her. Don’t worry about that.”

  “And what happens to what Nick needs?”

  He shrugged. His needs were way down on his list of priorities right now. “She’s my only concern.”

  The sound of a throat being cleared had them both turning. A middle-age man wearing blue scrubs stood a few feet away. The deep furrows in his brow and grim set to his mouth made Nick tense up even more.

  Almost afraid to ask, he said gruffly, “How is she?”

  “You’re her family?”

  Before Julie could respond, Nick said, “Yes, we are.”

  “Mrs. O’Connell is stable. She lost a lot of blood, but she’s going to be fine.”

  “And the baby?”

  “I’m sorry, he couldn’t be saved.”

  Nick closed his eyes. He was beyond grateful that Kennedy would be okay, but how in the hell was she going to survive losing both Thomas and their baby?

  “She’s been under a tremendous amount of stress,” Julie said. “Her husband was killed three days ago.”

  The doctor nodded. “I saw that on her chart.”

  “Does she know about the baby?” Nick asked.

  “Not yet. She’s still under.” The doctor lifted his shoulder in a tired, resigned shrug. “These things happen. She’s a healthy young woman and should be able to have successful pregnancies in the future.”

  “Can we see her?” Julie said.

  “Yes. Someone will let you know as soon as she’s moved to a regular room. She’ll be unconscious for at least another hour, though.”

  After the doctor moved away, they both dropped back into their chairs. “I can’t believe all of this has happened to her,” Julie said. “It’s so damned unfair.”

  Even though Nick had long ago realized that life was rarely fair, this went way beyond even his realm of understanding. What the hell had she done to deserve this? Absolutely nothing.

  Julie glanced down at her watch. “I really need to get home to the kids for a couple of hours. Can you stay here till I get back?”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  She patted his hand and walked wearily away.

  Nick slumped down into the chair and covered his face with his hands. Even though he felt a huge relief that Kennedy would be okay, he couldn’t help but wonder just how well she would recover. Losing Thomas had been gut-wrenching enough, but now their baby? How the hell was she going to be able to survive this? Just how much more shit could life throw at her?

  Kennedy blinked her eyes open, wondering why she felt so groggy and weak. She moved slightly and then moaned at the soreness in her entire body. What had happened?

  “Hey,” a gruff male voice said.

  Turning her head, she saw Nick sitting beside her. Machines surrounded her. An IV was attached to her hand. She was in the hospital. Her eyes swung to her stomach. It was flatter. Flatter than it had been for months. No, sweet God in heaven, no!

  “I’m so sorry, Kennedy,” Nick said huskily. “They did everything to try to save the baby. For a while, we thought we were going to lose you, too.”

  That would have been best. She had lost Thomas, and now she had lost their daughter. All that she’d had left of Thomas. Her sweet baby was gone.

  “What was it?” Her voice sounded raspy and hoarse.

  “What?”

  “Was it…a girl?”

  “No, a boy.”

  The tears came then. Thomas had been wrong. Would he have been disappointed? No, of course not. Thomas would have loved him and been the perfect dad, just as he’d been the perfect husband.

  She drew in a trembling breath. She couldn’t give in to the pain. Not yet, not yet. She managed a sad hiccupping laugh. “A little boy would have hated the lilac bedroom.”

  A small smile stretched Nick’s mouth. “Yeah, I would think so.”

  “I’ve lost everything.”

  His large, warm hand covered hers. “No, you haven’t. You have people who love you. Law school…a good job. You’ve got so much going for you. Yeah, life has kicked the shit out of you, but you’re stronger than what it can do to you.”

  She didn’t speak for a long time. Had no words that could express the grief. A part of her knew she was still in shock. Knew that when everything hit her, she’d lose all control. For right now, the numbness felt good. It was a relief to not feel anything.

  “I wish you’d called me instead of driving to the hospital yourself.”

  Her brow wrinkled as she tried to remember. She had driven herself?

  “I…what…” She shook her head to clear the haziness. “Are you sure I drove?”

  “Your car was parked at the entrance to the ER.”

  She had been in such agony…her only focus had been on saving the child inside her. Maybe she had only imagined a tall, dark man bringing her to the hospital. But if that were true, how could she know he’d had a crisp, British accent and cobalt-blue eyes?

  “Julie will be here in a little while to stay with you. Then I’ll be back tonight. Is there anything I can get you from your house?”

  Nick’s words brought her back to the present. “No…please.” She took a breath. “Don’t be offended, but please don’t come back tonight. And call Julie and let her know not to come. I really need to be alone.”

  His brow furrowed in disapproval. “Kennedy, I—”

  “Please, Nick. Do this for me. I’m surrounded by doctors and nurses…I’ll be fine.”

  He squeezed her hand again and shook his head. “No, I’m not leaving you alone. Not again.”

  “Please…I–.” The lump in her throat impossibly large, she swallowed hard. “I’m begging you, Nick. I have to be alone. Do this for me.”

  “Kennedy, I…” His expression one of helplessness, he pressed a kiss to her hand and then stood. “Okay.” He stood, leaned over and dropped another kiss to her forehead. “I’m here if you need me. I’ll always be here for you. Just remember that.” He pointed at the table beside her bed, much as he had last night. “Your cellphone is there with my phone number in it. Call me, no matter what time. Okay?”

  How things had changed in a matter of hours. Last night she’d still had hope…a purpose. Now she had nothing. Unable to face him, to see his compassion and pain for her, she kept her gaze on the far wall as she managed another nod.

  He stood for several seconds, as if unsure whether he should leave. Then, finally, he sighed heavily, and she heard the door close behind him.

  Kennedy continued to stare straight ahead. She was alone. For the first time in four months, she was completely alone. No tiny little being living inside her, cocooned and safe within her womb. Her baby was gone, as was her husband. She was completely, utterly alone. Much the way she had been when she’d first met Thomas. He had given her everything she’d always dreamed of and now it had all been taken away.

  A jagged, ugly sound echoed through the room, as if to emphasize its emptiness. Another sound, even uglier, followed. And at last, Kennedy rolled to her side, buried her face in her pillow, and allowed grief to consume her.

  Chapter Five

  Nick threw back another slug of coffee as he looked out the dirty broken window of the abandoned apartment building. Sad, lonely place to die. He turned back to the massacre on the floor. Three dead bodies. An execution? Gang shooting? Single bullet hole in the middle of each of their foreheads, close range. No discernible defensive wounds. Like they’d lined up willingly and then been gunned down, one by one.

  “You look like day-old dog shit.”

  He looked over at his partner. Margo Gentry was as gruff and outspoken as any seasoned homicide detective, but beneath her rough edges lay a kind heart. He and Margo had been partners since he’d been bumped to detective. There was little they didn’t know about each other and almost nothing they wouldn’t say to one another.

  He drained the las
t of his coffee, crushed the paper cup in his hand. “Been awhile since I slept.”

  “Why didn’t you take more time off? Captain would’ve understood.”

  “Staying busy helps.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  And she did. Margo had lost her sixteen-year-old son a few years back to leukemia.

  She turned back to the bodies on the floor. “So, we’ve ID’d two of the perps as gangbangers from Delano. The other one, blond guy, is unknown.”

  “I know him…Stevie Miller. Busted him when I was a street cop. He was just a kid then.”

  Margo glanced down at Stevie’s body. “Doesn’t look older than seventeen now.”

  “He’s probably in his late-twenties. Spent some time in juvie for possession. Can’t remember how much. Apparently not enough to make a difference, though.” Nick drew closer to the body lying beside Stevie’s. Holy shit, he knew this one, too.

  “What’s wrong?” Margo asked.

  “Just realized I know the one on the end, too. Frankie Chavez. Thomas questioned him when he was working the Slater case. I remember him from a photo Thomas showed me. He worked part time for the Slater family…was most closely associated with Jonah.”

  Nick stooped down for a closer look. Hell, this kid had been put through some serious pain. Fairly recently, too. Burn marks scattered around his neck, looked as though they went down his torso. Nick noticed a few knife scars—probably a couple of years old. But the burns were recent. Maybe only a day or so old.

  “Looks like he was tortured before he was shot.” He scanned the bodies of the other two victims. No burns. Nothing other than the neat little bullet hole in each of their foreheads. “Question is, who and why?”

  “M.E. says time of death was between nine and eleven last night.”

  “What kind of information did this guy have for them to torture and then kill him?”

  “Maybe when we know more about them…what they’ve been up to…it’ll be clearer why they were killed.”