“How bad of a condition is he in?” he said, walking straight inside.
“We’re not at liberty to discuss that, sir,” Officer Kahala said. Jace grabbed a T-shirt and sandals from his bedroom, tugged the shirt on as he went for the kitchen and grabbed his cell phone. His iPod was right beside them. Colt had given him that iPod ten years ago. It meant something, and he palmed it too. Jace didn’t ask another question. He was dressed and in the squad car in less than five minutes.
Chapter 27
Jace walked silently through the halls of the hospital following the two officers. With every step, dread coiled in his stomach. How had this happened? What had Colt been thinking? From the time they entered, curious faces kept looking his way as he kept pace with the men in uniform. The officers seemed to know everyone and were met with friendly greetings as they sauntered through the building in long slow strides. Jace’s fearful heart desperately wanted them to move a little faster. It didn’t work. Instead the steps from the front door to the ICU folded in around him as if he were taking his last walk down death row. The cold sterile halls and dull monotone color led him straight toward the death chamber.
He didn’t want this to be Colt in the car accident, but his every instinct prepared him for the worst. Jace’s heart thumped wildly in his chest with each excruciatingly slow step they took. The officers needed no direction; they seemed to know exactly where they were going. They walked past the nurse’s station and no one stopped them as they rounded the corner, heading straight to a back room.
The hospital rooms had large windows placed partially across the front of each room and all had the doors open. Jace had no problem seeing each patient lying in their beds. Jace supposed the windows and wide open doors were a way for the nurses to keep watch over their critical patients. For some reason the thought seemed to make matters that much worse, and he forced his gaze straight head, focusing on the back of one of the officer’s heads.
There were two rooms at the end of the corridor, and both looked to have the same setup as the rest of the rooms in this part of the building. As the officers veered to one side, Jace strained so hard he got tunnel vision, trying to see through the windows at the end of the hall. He had to see if Colt was lying in one of those beds.
His heart struggled fiercely with his head. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the whole situation. His head told him without question Colt would be in one of these rooms. There had been no note at the house, and he wouldn’t have been gone this long, but his heart desperately wanted Colt safe, tucked away at home, waiting for him to return.
They entered the hospital room and the harsh smell of the astringent overwhelmed him. His focus trained on who was in the bed, but all Jace could see were the many machines pushed close by. The machines beeped every few seconds, dozens of tubes ran from the machines down to the person lying on the bed. Jace could only see covered legs. Nothing to give away their identity. The officers came to a complete stop in front of him, blocking his view. It was a frustrating minute as Jace pivoted on his heels and snaked around the two. A dark-headed nurse in happy pink flowered scrubs worked on a chart at the head of the bed, Jace couldn’t see around her.
Jace walked to the bed, his eyes slowly moving up the legs then torso. Panic filled him. Please, God, let this be anyone but Colt. Oh, God! His heart stuttered, agony gripped him like a vice threatening to squeeze the life from him. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t pull enough air into his lungs. Jace reached out for the bed to steady himself, his knees weren’t doing the job.
Everything he’d been fighting since the officers stood at his front door came crashing down around him. All those walls he had immediately constructed to protect himself fell away as he saw Colt’s right arm strapped down in some sort of a semi-cast, and a left arm in about the same condition. A stark white sheet covered part of Colt’s chest, and from what he could see, there was very little left unmarked. Dark ugly bruises marked Colt from his chest leading all the way up to his face.
Everything around Jace slowed, centering straight into the two of them. Every beep of the machine was more pronounced as he stared at Colt’s swollen and badly bruised face. The nurse who stood at the front of the bed took a step back, and Jace moved up, taking her place. The moment wrenched his soul and his prayer instantly changed. Please, God, don’t let him die.
Bandages and tape covered a large portion of Colt’s head, with the exposed half, puffy, black and blue, and covered with cuts. Part of Colt’s hair was pushed back off his face, tangled and matted together. Jace could see the bruising went up into his scalp. Shit.
“Is it him?” Jace reached out to touch Colt, but he stopped for fear of hurting him more.
“Yes,” Jace whispered. A silent tear slid down his cheek. “What happened?”
“He was in an automobile accident. We believe he was found right away, but aren’t completely certain until we get the doctor’s report. We don’t know who hit him.” Jace had no idea where the cops were standing behind him, but he could barely hear their voices over the sound of his own heartbeat. He never took his eyes off Colt. I need you, please don’t die.
“It was a hit? Someone hit him,” Jace said after the words had time to sink in.
“Yes, sir. Could you step outside, please?” Again, an undeterminable amount of time passed before Jace reluctantly left Colt’s side, only to walk to the front of the hospital room. He refused to walk out that door.
“Someone hit and left him?” Jace asked in a hushed tone. Confusion set in, the processing part of his brain wasn’t working right no matter how hard he tried to focus. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the investigation was important. Yet the simplest thoughts seemed to be too much, and he cut his eyes back to the bed. Anguish filled his soul. Jace moved slightly to the left where he could keep his eyes on Colt. It took a full minute for Jace to realize the officers were trying to get him to understand something, without actually saying the words.
Officer Laemoa kept watching him closely, while Officer Kahala nodded his head.
“Like this was done on purpose?” Jace asked. He’d apparently gotten to where they needed him to be. Reality came crashing down, and right then, Jace remembered he was in a tricky spot. He wasn’t family. He couldn’t make these decisions for Colt. He technically shouldn’t even be in this room right now, but they needed information from him. Panic set in for real this time. Colt’s only family was his father. His father. Fuck!
“Who do you know would want to cause him or you harm?” Officer Kahala asked. The other officer just continued to stare at him. That was a very loaded question too loaded. How should he answer? Think, Montgomery! His brain went in overdrive, trying to remember who helped Colt during his alcohol rehab. Think! His eyes cut back to Colt, and dread filled him when nothing came to mind. Jace just wasn’t the type of person to hide things.
“I think his father would do this. I need to call his team. I think the team physician should be involved in this,” Jace said. Still struggling with what to say and what not to say, he turned back to the two officers. “Wait, how do you know it was done on purpose?”
“It’s still under investigation, but we believe the brake lines were cut. We’ll know more soon.” Officer Kahala responded in a matter-of-fact tone.
“He was in my car.” Jace crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath in an unsuccessful attempt to calm his racing mind. Whoever did this, didn’t want them together, but to hate enough to try to kill one of them? Damn, what an incredibly sobering thought that changed everything.
“It appears that way.”
“Then whatever they had planned was aimed at me,” Jace concluded. Colt had driven his car because he had parked right behind his this morning. Colt wasn’t the intended target. Jace would have been without brakes driving to the airport this morning. His attention moved back to Colt, and right then, he desperately wished he was lying in that bed, not Colt. Colt didn’t deserve any of this. Hell neither of t
hem did. For what, loving each other? Jace didn’t have any enemies, not like this.
“You believe his father would want to harm you?” Jace looked straight at the officer.
“Absolutely. He’s already done something like this before,” Jace whispered the words. “To keep us apart,” he said as an afterthought. Fuck what should or shouldn’t he say? Colt’s father had taken this too far. A woman walked in, distracting the officers, but Jace could think of little more than how in the world he could protect Colt from a crazed lunatic who was technically his next of kin.
“Officers,” she said.
“Dr. Nguyen,” they both acknowledged in unison. Her serious gaze focused on Jace as she extended a hand. “Are you his family?” She had a warm smile and inviting tone. The comfort she so easily extended had all the questions Jace held back since entering the room tumbling out.
“How is he?” Jace asked and turned away from the officers, following the doctor back the few steps to Colt’s bed. His spine slowly began to buck up. What would happen if Colt’s father got involved? He truly was Colt’s next of kin. Jace had to figure out how to stop this somehow. The truth seemed the only way he could see. Could court injunctions stop his father’s involvement until the investigation could prove he’d done this?
“He’s in critical, but stable condition,” she said. Jace surveyed Colt’s body and chose his left side to stand by.
“What exactly are his injuries?” Jace asked, gently picking up Colt’s hand and lacing their fingers together. He made sure not to move any part of Colt’s strapped down arm as he rubbed his thumb softly back and forth across Colt’s knuckles.
“What is his name?” she asked, offering him the same kind smile.
“Colt Michaels,” Jace said.
“Mr. Michaels has three fractured ribs and a punctured lung. He has a femoral fracture of his left leg and suffered substantial blood loss due most likely to the severity of the compound fractures he sustained to both his legs as well as his right arm. All required immediate surgery. He seems to have handled the surgery like a pro. Everything’s set, with the exception of his right arm. It has breaks at the wrist, his upper arm, and forearm. Our goal was to get him stable before we look at those options. He’s under heavy sedation to help the multiple…” She efficiently ticked off a laundry list of injuries. After the first dozen, Jace lost count, and his attention settled back on Colt’s face. Please don’t die.
“He’s a quarterback for the New York Panthers,” Jace said lamely when she finally stopped talking, wondering how Colt could ever recover if he did live.
“Colton Michaels, MVP. I knew I knew the guy!” Officer Laemoa finally spoke. His island accent more pronounced as he said the unguarded words.
“I need to make a phone call,” Jace announced quietly as the attitude in the room changed with the recognition of what they were dealing with formed.
“Mr. Montgomery, what are your plans, sir? It would be better for everyone involved if you stayed put,” Officer Laemoa advised.
“I don’t plan on leaving,” Jace said. Officer Kahala began writing in earnest on his note pad. The other officer picked up his hand-held as he nodded at Jace. He left the room with the doctor. Jace palmed his phone, keeping hold of Colt’s fingers. His only contact in Colt’s life was the cheerleading coach who’d worked with him when his teams were invited to perform in New York. Jace scrolled through his contacts, selecting her name, or what he hoped was her and pressed call. Shelly answered on the first ring.
“Hey, you.”
“Hi, Shelly, I need help,” Jace said, clearing his throat as he tried to use a normal tone of voice.
“You don’t sound very good,” she said, her normal bubbly tone now bordering on concerned as she identified the fear in Jace’s tone. Damn, he hadn’t hidden the worry like he’d hoped.
“I’m not good. I need to get in touch with your team’s head physician. I don’t know his name, but the one over everything,” Jace said.
“That would be Dr. Knox,” she said.
“Yes, him! Can you reach him?” he asked. That was the name Colt used, Dr. Knox. Please don’t let Dr. Knox suck!
“I can try,” Shelly hesitated.
“Shelly, I need him right away. It’s urgent,” Jace said.
“Do I tell him anything?” Jace paused at her question. Did he dare say anything? Shit, they were back to hiding. He didn’t even understand this hiding world. Fuck, he hated this.
“I… I can’t,” he stammered.
“Jace, let me see what I can do.”
“Thanks, Shelly,” Jace said, relieved. He disconnected the call and looked around the small room. For the first time since he stepped foot inside this room, they were alone. He assumed they left to give him privacy for his call. Jace didn’t care why he was alone, just that he was, and he moved closer to Colt, leaning down till his face was only inches from the man he loved. He took in every bump, bruise, and cut on his lover’s battered face. His tears welled, spilling over. He couldn’t hold back his emotions any longer.
“I love you, and I’m so sorry. It should’ve been me, not you. You have to pull through this, Colt, you just have to.” Tears fell on Colt’s bruised cheek, and he gently used his thumb to wipe them away.
“I’m here. I’ll be right here. I’m not leaving your side, baby. I’m gonna figure this out and keep anyone from hurting you more than they already have.” Jace never let go of Colt’s hand, but extended an arm and pulled the hospital chair next to the bed. The chair made a loud scrape across the floor, and he looked toward the door to see if anyone noticed. It wasn’t minutes since he hung up with Shelly before his phone rang, and he answered on the first ring. His eyes stayed glued to Colt.
“This is Dr. Knox. I’ve been given this number.”
“Sir, I’m Jace Montgomery, and I’m here with Colton Michaels.”
“I’m listening,” the doctor said. He could hear concern, but he gave nothing away, and yet, somehow gave him hope. Jace prayed he’d gotten this right.
“Sir, he’s been in an accident. It was actually a hit and run. A purposeful hit and run, at least that’s what they gathered from the scene. They’re still investigating and should know more in a few days.”
“How is he?” Dr. Knox asked.
“Not good. I mean real bad. I couldn’t remember exactly who helped him in his rehab. I thought it was you,” Jace said.
“I did. Where are you?” Dr. Knox asked. Jace wasn’t ready to answer that particular question yet.
“Doctor, he’s messed up. They say the brake lines might have been cut. They don’t know who did it.” That got nothing but silence, and again Jace was forced to continue without encouragement. “It was in my car. He took my car, and I don’t know who to call. His father beat him once before over me. I didn’t know if you knew about that or not. And honestly, I’m really not sure his dad should be told about this.” Jace finally got to the bottom line, dumping everything out there.
“I heard something about that in one of the sessions with his therapist. I’m going to be frank. Colt has battled too many demons where that man’s concerned. And I had honestly hoped he’d gone to find you. Jace, I need you to stay put. Do they have security on you?”
“The local police are involved, but there isn’t any security.” The relief was staggering. He hadn’t made any of this worse by calling. Jace closed his eyes and leaned down to kiss Colt’s hand.
“I need to make some phone calls, but stay right there with him. Tell me where you are.”
“We’re at Island Memorial, in Kapa’a. I’m worried. He’s not good. His throwing arm’s in bad shape, I’m really worried.”
“Stay right there. I’ll call my son, he’ll know exactly what to do. I promise we’ll get this sorted, son. Don’t leave him, Colt needs you,” Dr. Knox said.
“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere.” Dr. Knox barely waited to hear Jace’s response before the phone went dead.
Chapter 28
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Mitch sat at the keyboard in his one-room dump of a motel in Mexico City, pecking out an email to his supervisor. It wasn’t coming easy. How the fuck did he explain to the United States Justice Department that their top field deputies had failed to apprehend their target? Which was bad enough in its own right, even before you factored in the United States military had beat them to the mark.
How the hell did that even happen?
None of his intelligence showed they had a clue about the guy’s existence, yet from out of nowhere, the military swooped in and stole him right out from under their noses. His entire field operation went to shit in a matter of an hour.
He pushed his well-worn ball cap back on his head as he scrubbed a calloused hand down over his face. He was frustrated. Actually past frustrated, he was straight up angry. Somehow he had to back that off and let the tone of the email convey a passive, completely in control senior Deputy US Marshal, and didn’t that just piss him off that much more? He hated the politics of this job.
Technically, his supervisors should just be happy the slime of the earth was in custody, but it didn’t work that way. In today’s economic times, every department was held accountable and expected to show their worth. Mitch and his team were under constant pressure to perform. And his latest fugitive was as big as it got for a department who specialized in finding and apprehending sick mother fuckers who sexually targeted children. The asshole had sold more children into sex-trafficking than any other person or group of people the department had ever come across. He was a real bad dude. Fuck! How had the military found him before Mitch’s team could get him out of that mission?
Worse than all of that, the current political climate demanded he be socially conscience to the extreme. To fire off an email saying, those goddamn motherfuckers came out of nowhere and took my fuckin’ guy, that I really wanted to get my hands on for a few fucking minutes before I turned him over. Yeah, no. Saying something like that would be seriously frowned upon. Not only frowned upon, but he was absolutely certain they would require him to take some kind of sensitivity training which was completely out of the question. Sensitivity training because he offended the senses of those dealing with a child predator. Fuck, this sucks!
Nice Guys Collection With Added Bonus Material Page 23