“We’ve got a pulse,” the paramedic said, “but it’s thready. She’s losing a lot of blood. We better get her in now!”
Joe rode in the ambulance with her, holding her hand the whole time. She stirred and groaned, and he squeezed her hand encouragingly. She opened her eyes and looked straight at him, but he could see she was in a great deal of pain. The paramedics had an oxygen mask over her face, and it was obvious by the way she clawed it she wanted it off.
“Leave it on, Midnight,” Joe said, keeping his voice calm for her. “You’re going to be okay. Just lie there and let them take care of you.”
She shook her head and there were tears in her eyes. She said something, but he couldn’t understand her because of the mask.
“What is it, Night?” he asked, looking up at the paramedic for permission to remove the mask for a moment. The paramedic nodded.
Joe pulled it down, his eyes watching hers. “What is it?”
She swallowed and looked up at him. “I was being careful,” she said, almost as if she was apologizing to him. Her voice was so quiet he had to bend down to hear her.
She closed her eyes again and her breathing was labored. Joe put the mask back on over her mouth. Her eyes opened again and she waited for him to reply.
“I know you were, babe. Just rest right now.”
He knew she’d been too careful, that’s what had tipped the gang leader off, and it was his fault. Midnight had closed her eyes again. As the ambulance sped to the hospital Joe prayed that he’d get a chance to tell her how sorry he was and how much he cared about her.
The next four hours were a nightmare. Many of the FORS team joined Joe in the waiting room as they waited for news of their leader. Joe sat in a corner staring at the floor, his thumb rubbing absently at the palm of his other hand. No one approached him. They knew the private hell that he was going through; they, too, were dealing with their own fears.
Midnight had recruited each and every one of them. She had at one time or another helped them with encouragement or a sympathetic ear. She’d earned the respect of every member of the unit, and as diversified as the members of FORS were, that respect was a hard-won prize. Joe was well respected by the team as well, but the brunt of the awe and loyalty fell on the small shoulders of the woman who had single-handedly begun the unit they all belonged to and for whom they would each give their own lives.
Midnight had made them respectable. She’d made them into people that commanded respect rather than fear. Midnight had made them human beings again, instead of the animals that they had become in the gang; killing machines with no thought or emotion. They were people again because of Midnight Chevalier and for no other reason. So they all waited for word of her condition with their hearts in their throats.
When the doctor came out, she was assailed with questions from all directions. She was trying to answer everybody at once, not having much success, when Joe, who stood a head taller than most of the crowd, pushed his way through.
“Hold it!” he commanded.
Everyone fell silent.
He looked down at the doctor. “How is she?”
“Ms. Chevalier is in critical condition at this time,” the doctor said, trying to keep her officious tone, but having difficulty with so many rough looking people eyeing her. “The knife punctured her left lung, and she lost a great deal of blood.” She paused, giving them a moment to process everything. “We’ll know more in the next twenty-four hours.”
“Can I see her?” Joe asked, his light blue eyes begging the doctor.
“She’s in the recovery room. It’s not normal procedure …” she began to say, but hesitated, seeing the devastated look in the Englishman’s eyes.
The doctor had heard about her patient and how she had been injured. She’d also heard about what Midnight Chevalier did for a living, and that this man was her partner. The doctor considered their mission a very noble one and because of that felt a special desire to reassure them, even if she didn’t know the eventual outcome of the small blond woman in the recovery room. She rubbed her eyes wearily and looked up at Joe again. “You can come, the rest of you will have to stay out here.” Joe nodded and looked over at Spider and Tiny who were flanking him.
“Keep it together guys, I’ll come back and report,” he said. Then he followed the doctor to the recovery room.
Midnight looked very pale lying in the bed. She had two different IVs in her hand, and various other monitoring devices.
“She’s been sedated for now,” the doctor explained, “because the damage to her lungs will make it difficult to breathe. She will need to stay calm to heal properly and the best way to do that is to keep her sedated.”
The doctor was glad she had allowed Joe in the recovery room, even if she was going to catch hell for doing it. She watched as he stared down at his partner with such unabashed distress. She found herself having to look away before she could get emotional too. “You can sit here with her for a while. I’ll get you a pass, so that you can go and tell your friends how she’s doing, and come back.”
Joe gave her a weak smile, barely pulling his gaze away from Midnight. “Thanks.”
It was a week before Midnight even stirred, and even then she didn’t wake up. She was being kept thoroughly sedated. The following night she stirred and then slowly opened her eyes. Joe didn’t move; he was afraid he was seeing things or dreaming. She looked at him for a moment and then smiled. It was a small, weak smile, but to Joe it was fantastic.
“Hey!” he said, overjoyed at seeing her awake.
“Hey,” she responded weakly. She moved as if to try to sit up, but Joe put his hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t try to move around yet, Night. You need to rest.”
Midnight nodded slowly, out of breath from just attempting to move. She moved her fingers and Joe took her hand in his. She settled back and closed her eyes.
Three days passed before Midnight could move around and actually hold a conversation without gasping for breath all the time. By this time, the doctors had upgraded her to stable with a good prognosis, but they were still watching for signs of infection. She had been moved to a private room and the hospital was allowing short visits from the members of FORS, since she didn’t have any immediate family that would come to see her.
Tom Ryan stopped by and he looked her over worriedly. “Damn kid,” he muttered good-naturedly, “always trying to give an old man a heart attack!”
Midnight laughed at that, clasping his hand tightly. “That’s what you always say,” she told him.
San Diego, California, 1980
After Thomas’s funeral, Midnight stayed at Tom Ryan’s house. He took her there after Thomas’s death, knowing that she wouldn’t get the support or the sympathy from her parents that she needed. At Thomas’s funeral, Jack and Carrie stared at her as if she were the murderer of their son. Suddenly he was their son. He had meant nothing to them alive, but suddenly in death he was their baby. Every member of the Vettes was in attendance, but Midnight stayed with Tom. Suddenly her gang was the root of her anguish, and she couldn’t stand with them on that day. She leaned heavily on Tom Ryan, her eyes covered by sunglasses. She was trying desperately to keep from throwing herself on the coffin, wanting to be dead too. She wanted to stop the hurt that was eating her alive. She felt like the whole world had turned upside down, and Tom Ryan was the only person that cared.
For the most part it was true; Tom Ryan was the only person that cared if Midnight Chevalier lived or died. Her parents certainly didn’t. As Midnight laid the long-stemmed red rose on her brother’s coffin, she swore to herself that she would get revenge for his death. Grief, anger, and hate coated her like armor and she became obsessed with the idea of killing the leader of the Piranhas.
When Midnight voiced her intention to Tom Ryan the next day, he shook his head. “Do you think that killing Talma Hooks is going to bring Thomas back?”
Midnight stared at him in disbelief, he wasn’t going to tur
n on her too? “I think it will make me feel better …” she said, standing to leave.
Ryan reached out and pulled her back, pushing her into a chair at his kitchen table. Ryan’s house was small, and cluttered. His wife of ten years had left him a couple of years before, and he wasn’t much for cleaning up, except for the necessities. So the place got messy. One of the few rooms in the house that was fairly neat was the kitchen.
He looked at Midnight, concern and anger evident on his face. “Midnight, the only thing that will accomplish is to put you in jail, and I think you could do a lot more than that with your life.”
“Yeah?” said, not believing him for a second. “Like what?”
“Like college, like a career, something,” Ryan answered.
Midnight laughed hollowly, wondering how much Ryan knew. “Oh yeah, right.”
“Yeah, right,” Ryan persisted. “For all the trouble you were in, you still got pretty good grades in school. I know, I checked.” He gave her a direct look. “And yes I know you were accepted to UCSD.”
Midnight eyed him suspiciously. “What made you want to check up on me?”
“Because,” Ryan said, touching her hand, which she promptly pulled away, “I think you have a lot more potential than being top gang leader of the heap.”
She eyed him warily, what was he trying to pull? “The Vettes are all I have left.”
“Oh Christ I hope not,” Ryan said wryly. Midnight just stared at him, narrowing her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said looking serious again, “but that gang is not gonna do anything for you, except land you in jail someday. Or maybe you’ll just follow Thomas …” To his surprise her eyes dropped from his when he said the last. “That’s what you’re hoping, isn’t it?” he asked, reading her face so easily. “You want to die now too. Am I right?”
Midnight moved to stand again. He grabbed her arm and, even though she struggled, she couldn’t pull away. She turned to look at him and to her astonishment, she saw tears in his eyes. He couldn’t actually care if she wanted to die. Managing to pull away from him, Midnight stood up shrugging into her Vettes jacket.
“I have to go,” she said, her eyes averted from Ryan’s. She didn’t want to see his sympathy. She knew what she had to do.
“Where are you going?” Ryan asked.
She cracked a wintery smile. “Date with death, maybe,” she said and walked out of the house. Once outside, Midnight stood looking at Tom Ryan’s house. She wondered if this would be the last time she would see Ryan, thinking that she should have thanked him for everything. If it hadn’t been for him, she would have killed herself the night Thomas had died. At least the way she was doing it she would take the leader of the Piranhas out, or die trying.
Midnight walked along the street that was the Piranhas turf. She heard them in a pool hall not far down the street. Walking into the hall, she looked around. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light. She was a striking figure in all black. Her eyes were haunted, but fiery as they searched the room until they found the leader of the Piranhas.
Talma stood a towering five feet ten inches tall compared to Midnight’s five feet five inches. Talma’s size didn’t impress Midnight, nor did it scare her. Most people made the mistake of underestimating Midnight because of her slight stature; she used that to her advantage.
“Ah, little Midnight,” Talma said, strolling over to Midnight. Then she looked back over her shoulder at her followers and pulled a face. “How’s the family?” The gang laughed and Talma laughed with them. She turned back just in time to catch Midnight’s fist right in the face. Falling back, Talma stared wide-eyed at the smaller girl. She was shocked that her opponent could pack that much of a punch, and Midnight was advancing on her. Midnight’s face was set in a grim hard line, she was determined to kill this woman. She didn’t know who had killed her brother, but she knew that it was Talma’s gang, so all of her hate and anger was centered on the leader.
As Midnight advanced, she saw one of the other girls start toward her. She turned, pulling out a knife, its four-inch blade glinting menacingly as she brandished it. Midnight narrowed her eyes threateningly at the other woman.
“You wanna piece of this?” she asked, her voice as cold and hard as the steel of the knife she held. The girl stopped dead in her tracks. She stood looking at Midnight for a split second then shook her head and stepped back.
Talma had recovered from Midnight’s first attack and was standing ready for the Vettes’ leader now. Midnight continued to advance slowly, her eyes reflecting an almost predatory look. Disturbed by the sheer determination showing on her opponents face, Talma panicked and charged the smaller woman. Midnight simply stepped aside at the last moment, catching Talma in the stomach with a booted foot. Talma fell to the ground coughing. Midnight reacted instantly, sticking her knife in her belt and launching herself at her downed adversary. Shoving Talma over onto her back, Midnight held the woman’s shoulder to the floor with her left hand and proceeded to punch her repeatedly in the face with her right. Talma was attempting to block Midnight’s attack, holding her hands up, but Midnight knocked them away. Finally, when she’d knocked Talma out, Midnight pulled out the knife. She straddled the other woman’s chest and, holding the knife with both hands, she drew a bead at Talma’s heart and drew the knife back.
“Midnight!” a voice rang out from the back of the bar. The Vettes’ leader paused, her head snapping up at the sound of Tom Ryan’s voice. He stood at the door to the pool hall with his weapon drawn and pointed directly at her. Their eyes met for a long second. They both knew he couldn’t shoot her. Midnight’s lips curled in a sardonic smile, as her eyes watched him, as if his appearance was somehow part of her plan. Tom Ryan watched as Midnight turned her attention back to Talma who was now regaining consciousness. Talma stared up at her in terror, her eyes locked on the point of the knife that Midnight held. Midnight’s eyes were pure ice as she stared down at her nemesis.
“Game point, Talma, nobody wins,” Midnight growled, as she plunged the blade downward.
“No!” Tom Ryan and Talma shrieked at the same time.
Suddenly there were people blocking the way. Ryan couldn’t see, he couldn’t get through the crowd. If Midnight had killed Talma, he was responsible. He had known what she had wanted to do and he had let her leave the house. If she had killed Talma, he was going to have the hideous duty of not only arresting her, but being a witness against her later. But if he could get to Talma in time, maybe it would only be a flesh wound, maybe … He shoved his way through the crowd and broke through.
Midnight had moved from over Talma’s body. She sat with her knees up to her chest, panting from the adrenaline running through her body. She was looking at the floor. Talma lay unconscious, but there was no blood. Ryan surveyed the scene and followed Midnight’s line of sight. She was staring at the knife. It was stuck into the hard wood floor next to Talma’s head, still waving back and forth from the force that had put it there. Tom thought he’d pass out with the overwhelming sense of relief he felt.
****
Ryan stayed with Midnight for a short while, not wanting to tire her too much. Once in the lobby of the hospital, Ryan turned to Joe.
“It’s not your fault you know,” Ryan said.
“What?” Joe said, surprised.
“It’s not your fault,” Ryan repeated. “Midnight is very special to me, but she’s also the most headstrong, stubborn pain in the ass I have ever met. And if you think that you can control that, you’re crazy. That’s how she is. She was born with it. No man will ever drive that from her.” Ryan clasped Joe’s shoulder companionably. “And it’s going to take one hell of man to live with it. But you see, that’s what makes her Midnight. Otherwise, she’d just be another cop on the job. And she wouldn’t be as good at that job. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Joe said slowly, looking at the older man with more respect, because he was able to see someone he cared about so clearly. “I think I do, and all this time I’
ve been trying to change it. But I don’t know if I can handle her going off on her own, and getting into more danger. What am I supposed to do? What if I’m not there sometime? What if—”Ryan was shaking his head at the younger man.
“Joe, if you try to stay one step ahead of that girl, and fate, you’ll go crazy.” He watched for Joe’s reaction, unsure if he should say what he’d been thinking, but he decided that it needed to be said. “Maybe, you should consider stepping back from all this, from her. I think you’re too close. You’re afraid for her, and your fear is working its way around to her. That’s dangerous my friend.”
Joe looked at him and narrowed his eyes. “You’re saying we shouldn’t be together.”
It was a statement, not a question, but there was no anger in his words, only quiet understanding.
“I’m saying you’re too close,” Ryan said, without affirming Joe’s statement.
Joe nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. Ryan left and Joe returned to Midnight’s room. He found her staring off into space, a very serious look on her face.
“Don’t think too hard,” he said, grinning as he walked over to the side of the bed. “You might hurt something.”
She glanced up at him, her face still serious, but then she smiled. “I might,” she said, her tone purposely light.
Joe gave her a sidelong look, knowing there was something going on in her head. He had a feeling he knew what it was. “What’s up, love?”
Midnight didn’t answer for a moment, obviously debating whether she wanted to tell him what she’d been thinking.
“You’re thinking about us, aren’t you?” Joe said. He saw the surprise in her eyes, although her face gave nothing away. Then she nodded slowly, sighing.
Joe sat down, took her hand in his, and brought his face down close to hers. “Talk to me,” he said quietly.
Building Empires (MidKnight Blue Book 1) Page 5