Hetch (Men OF S.W.A.T. #1)

by River Savage

  “Well, why can I hear her?” I push past him, needing to find her. Something is wrong. I need to get to her. She needs me.

  “Because she’s waiting for you. They’re all waiting for you.” My fast feet slow, and I turn to face him.

  “What are you talking about?” The words don’t make sense.

  “Hetch, I tried to tell you. You’re running out of time. You need to open your eyes. You have to go back. Your mom, Kota, Liberty, they need you. They need you to fight, son. If you don’t open your eyes soon, you’re not gonna see her again.”

  “What do you mean?” The possibility of never seeing Liberty again burns so hot, I want to scream. “I don’t understand what’s happening here.” Part of me knows something isn’t right. I’m in some kind of alternate universe, talking to my dead father, but at the same time, it feels right.

  “Son, where were you before you came here?” He takes my hand and starts walking us through the fog.

  “I don’t know. I don’t remember.” I fight the darkness, trying to think.

  “Think harder. Where were you?” My mind flashes to Sterling, and distorted images of the raid come crashing in.

  Bodies moving. Guns firing. Pain searing.

  “I-I died?” The realization hits me just as painfully as the first bullet I took to the neck.

  I’m dead? Is this death?

  “You died twice, Hetch. But they brought you back.” Relief floods my body. I’m not sure I’m ready to die yet. I’m not ready to leave Liberty.

  “So, if I’m not dead, what is this place?” I look around, the scene changing before me. No longer are we surrounded by darkness, but a room, a hospital room. It’s quiet, but I can hear her.

  “What’s happening?” My mind can’t keep up. I’m standing next to my father, looking down at Liberty holding my hand in a hospital bed.

  “You’re stuck, son, in the in-between. And unless you wake up, it’s going to be too late.”

  “Liberty?” I step toward her and reach out.

  “She can’t hear you.”

  I don’t pay myself any attention. My gaze is firmly locked on her. She looks tired like she hasn’t eaten in a week. She’s wearing one of my SWAT shirts with a pair of jeans, and even in this fucked-up state, I want to reach out and kiss her.

  “Is she the one?” My father’s question breaks my staring.

  “I don’t know. I think she is, but how do I know for sure?”

  “The fact you’re standing here asking me is a pretty clear indicator she’s the one, Liam.” He cracks a smile and disturbingly, it warms me. I can’t remember the last time he smiled.

  Years. So many years ago.

  “She’s the one, Dad.”

  “Then you need to go back to her.”

  “Tell me how. Tell me what I need to do.” I turn to face him, eager to be taught.

  “You need to let me go.” A flash of pain crosses his face, but he quickly hides it.

  “What? No. What if I’m not ready? What if I want to stay with you a little longer?” Logically, I know it’s not possible. I don’t want to be here, but the thought of leaving him is too hard. I just got him back.

  “You can’t, son. It’s not your time.” He wraps his arms around me.

  “I can’t leave you. I can’t do it.”

  “You can and you have to. You need to wake up, Hetch. You need to fight.” I start to pull back, but stop when he holds me tighter.

  I’m not sure who’s slipping faster this time, him or me, all I know is I need more time.

  “Please, Dad. I love you. Don’t make me choose.”

  “I love you too, son. But this isn’t a choice. I’ll always be with you. In here.” His hand moves to my heart. “But you need to fight now. You need to let me go and fight for your girl. Fight like you’ve never fought before. Open your eyes, son! Do it.”

  Darkness fades and the numbness I’ve grown accustomed to these days takes me.

  Thirty-Eight

  Liberty

  “So there’s this moment I keep coming back to.” I climb up onto the bed later that night when everyone has gone home, and the doctors have done their final rounds. “It was right after the day of our car wash. Do you remember it? We were having a quiet night in, just lying around and talking, and you stopped and looked at me. You looked at me like no man has ever looked at me before.” I run my fingers through his hair, careful not to jostle the monitoring cords. “It was like you were seeing me for the first time.” I take a breath, hoping to keep the tears away at least for a few hours. “It’s the moment I keep going back to. I want you to look at me like that one more time. Just one more time. That’s all I’m asking.” I lean in closer and breath him in. “Please, Hetch. You have to wake up.”

  “You shouldn’t be up there.” Avery, my favorite nurse, walks into the room, intruding on our personal bubble.

  “You gonna make me get off?” I whisper back. If she thinks I’m getting down off this bed, she has another thing coming. She’s a little thing, and if I had to take her on, I would.

  “I wouldn’t dare. But don’t let the doctors see you up there.” She reaches for his chart and walks around to his other side. We don’t talk while she does her thing. The routine’s become so predictable. I know what buttons she’ll press, what tests she’ll run, and what she’ll put down in his file.

  “How is he tonight?”

  “Same. Just like yesterday.” She picks up on my tone and pauses in her notes.

  “Have you eaten today?” I almost roll my eyes. If it’s not the boys or Brianna trying to feed me, it’s the nurses.

  “I ate today.” If you call two bites of the sandwich Hart brought me today eating, then yeah, I’ve been eating.

  “Okay.” She doesn’t look convinced, but she drops it and moves on. “Well, everything looks good here. I should be a good nurse and tell you that you should head home for some sleep, but you’re not going to listen to me, are you?” She replaces his file and offers me a sad smile, or maybe it’s a hopeful one. It’s hard to read them today.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Didn’t think so.” She walks toward the door. “Okay, I’ll come back later. Buzz me if you need anything.” She waves, then leaves us alone again.

  Taking Hetch’s hand, I settle back into his side. I don’t know how long I have alongside him. I might get away with it with Avery, but if a doctor catches me, it won’t be good.

  Closing my eyes, I take in a deep breath. My heart beats in sync with his, his warmth heating me to the very core. I take in his scent, basking in the memories that filter in and out of my head.

  Liberty.

  I imagine my name falling from his lips, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.

  Lib.

  The deep baritone of his voice wraps itself around me and vibrates through me.

  “L-Lib?” The word is croaky, more like a question and barely above a whisper, but I still hear it. I still hear him, clearer than the previous times.

  Louder.

  “Hetch?” I sit up, not trusting my ears. His eyes open, and his face grimaces in pain, but still, he manages one of his dangerous grins.

  “Hey, sweetheart.” Time passes without thought as I look down at him. He’s awake. He’s here. He’s talking.

  “Y-you. Y-you talked. Oh, my God. Talk some more.” I reach across his body for the nurse call button.

  “How long have I been out for?” he rasps, trying to sit up.

  “Don’t move. Wait for the nurse to come back.” I gently hold his shoulder so he doesn’t try to sit up again.

  He takes my lead and rests back, pulling me down next to him. “How long?” His voice is still barely a croak, but I’m not worried. The man took two bullets to his neck. He’s not going to have too much of a voice for a while.

  “You’ve been out three days. How are you feeling?”

  “Sore.” He winces a little when his hand finds the bandage on his neck.

  �
��Well, getting shot tends to do that to you.” The tears I thought I managed to keep at bay fall when his beautiful eyes find mine.

  He woke up.

  Hetch is awake and everything is going to be okay.

  We are going to be okay.

  “Hey, I’m okay, sweetheart.” I can tell it hurts him to talk, but three days without his voice has taken its toll on me, and right now, it’s like a balm soothing the ache inside of me. Three days of waiting. Three days of not knowing, three days of thinking the worst, pours out of me.

  “I was so scared, Hetch. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

  “Shhh, sweetheart. I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.” His words calm me, talking me down from the brink and wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.

  “I sh-should call your mom and Kota. The boys. They’ve all been here around the clock, waiting for you to wake up.” Everything rolls over in my head, and I know I need to get up to make those calls, but having him awake in my arms, holding me, makes it hard to move.

  “J-just give me a few more minutes.” He doesn’t let go, and I don’t make him. Not even when the nurse comes running to my call and finds him awake. Or when the doctor arrives and checks him over. Holding me harder against his side than he probably should, we stay like that until we’re left alone and exhaustion wins out.

  Connected, grounded, and together.

  Thirty-Nine

  Hetch

  “I’ll always be with you. But you need to fight now. You need to let me go and fight for your girl. Fight like you’ve never fought before.”

  I wake with a startle, my father’s words ringing in my head as I struggle with a wave of nausea rolling through me.

  Fuck, it’s just a dream. I’m not back there, inside my head with my father standing in front of me.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” The nurse, who came in when I woke up last night, calms me as I try to control my breathing.

  “Sorry,” I croak, my throat still raw and scratchy. I’ve been told it’s normal after a gunshot wound to the neck and being intubated. The doctor warned me it might take a few weeks for my voice to come back.

  “What time is it?” I try to sit up, but stop when she uses the control to bring the bed up instead. I’m still getting used to the idea I was shot, survived surgery, and was out of it for a few days.

  “It’s after twelve.” She hands me a cup of water with a straw.

  “Where’s Liberty?” I take a sip, the cold water soothing the roughness in my throat.

  “She went down to get some coffee with your mom and sister. You fell asleep on them.” She takes the water when I’m done and moves back to my chart. I vaguely remember talking to them this morning. After a tearful hello on Mom’s part, the drugs they have me on took effect, and as hard as I tried to stay awake, I didn’t last very long.

  “These drugs you have me on keep spacing me out.” With the dream still fresh in my mind, I decide to blame the drugs on the whole talking to my father business.

  “Yeah, enjoy it while you can.” Her voice is soft, almost singsong, and when she laughs, she reminds me of a cartoon character. “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Besides feeling spaced out by the drugs, okay. Think I can go home?” It’s a long shot, I know it, and her cartoon laugh confirms it.

  “You’re a funny one.” She shakes her head as the door pushes open.

  “Well, well, well, look who decided to grace us with his presence, boys.” Nurse forgotten, I look up at Sterling’s voice to find my teammates walking through the door and taking up too much space in the small hospital room.

  “Hey.” My eyes move over each of them—Sterling, Fox, Hart, Tate, and Walker—making sure they’re all here and okay. The last time I remember seeing them was when we walked into a hail of gunfire.

  “How are you feeling, boss?” Tate steps forward first, lifts his fist, and waits for a connection.

  “Hanging in there, Tate.” I bump my fist to his and watch as Walker steps forward next.

  “Scared the shit out of us, boss.” He reaches out and squeezes my shoulder. I push down another wave of nausea and keep my face neutral.

  “Glad you pulled through.” Hart comes forward next followed by Fox.

  “When I told you to claim the girl, I didn’t mean go get shot so she doesn’t leave your side.” His smartass remarks are funny, but I don’t let him know it.

  “Fuck off, Fox.” He laughs at himself. Dropping his fist, he steps back over to a free chair.

  “Where’s your girl?” Sterling is the last one to step forward. His hand grips onto my wrist.

  “She’s gone to get a coffee with Mom and Kota.”

  He doesn’t release his hold as quickly as the others did, his eyes drilling into mine in a silent question.

  Are you doing okay?

  I nod back, my own silent answer passing between us.

  Yeah, I’m good.

  “Okay, everything looks fine here. Give me a buzz me if you need anything,” the cartoon nurse interrupts our silent conversation and steps out of the room, leaving us alone.

  “Dang, I should get shot if it means having cute nurses looking after me.” Walker whistles loud enough to ensure the nurse heard him.

  “Knowing your luck, you’d get the old bag who’s been manning the nurses’ station for the last three days.” Hart shuts his fantasy down.

  “You all been here every day?” I try to clear my throat again, only to aggravate it more.

  “On shifts,” Sterling answers, the dip in his brows telling me how concerned he’s been. Liberty filled me in on a little, but I still haven’t received the full run down.

  “So, what happened?” I ask the question of the hour when Sterling moves back over to a spare wall space. My visitors so far today have consisted of Mom, Kota, and the lieutenant. While Mom and Kota filled me in on what happened after the surgery, and the lieutenant filled me in on what’s been going on since the raid, I still want a play-by-play with my team.

  “What do you remember?” Fox answers first.

  “We cleared the entry.” I push my groggy mind through the haze and try to bring up my last memory. “We took fire. I pulled back, but before I knew it, I was down.” The scene plays out in my head.

  Hands push mine away, a warm blood staining between my fingers, but still it doesn't register. Instead, my world has become the slow beat of my heart pounding in my ears. Darkness takes hold and starts to pull me away. Everything numbs. The pain. The light. The noise.

  “I don’t remember much after that.” I clear my head when the image of me going down rushes to the surface.

  “You didn’t have Morales. He wasn’t there. You went down by one of Anton’s guys.” Sterling fills in the blanks. “We walked into an ambush set up by Anton.”

  “Dominic set us up?” I’m not surprised. I knew we couldn’t trust the fucker.

  “No, it looks like Anton played Morales. He didn’t want to do business. He wanted to take out the competition.” Tate picks up on the sudden rage pulsing through me. My head wants to fight the notion that Dominic didn’t have a hand in this, but when I think about it, it makes sense. If Anton wanted Morales out of the picture, he could have set up a meet on false pretenses and taken him out.

  “So the raid was a bust. Trebook may possibly have a gang war brewing. Detective Marsh doesn’t have a case, and I took two bullets for the fuck of it?” I summarize what we know.

  “We did get Anton.” The only silver lining of the night is delivered by Sterling. Anton off the street is good news.

  “Oh, and Detective Marsh is pissed at you for getting shot,” Tate adds, looking over at Hart.

  “She’s not pissed. She’s just not looking forward to the clean-up,” Hart defends her. His quick support of the feisty detective confirms my suspicions of the two.

  “You have a thing for Marsh, Hart?” I ask outright. No point in fucking around with suspicions.

  “No.” His s
coff and fast-delivered scowl tells me different.

  “Come on, Hart. You’re fucking her, admit it.” Fox stirs the pot.

  “Fox, I’m not kidding. You keep running your mouth and you’re gonna regret it.” Hart pushes off the wall and steps to the middle of the room. I’m getting way too much enjoyment seeing Hart get worked up over the dig.

  “What’s the matter, Hart? Am I hitting a nerve?” Fox keeps his stance, not intimidated by Hart’s threats. My eyes move to Sterling and watch him roll his eyes at their petty bickering.

  “So Dominic hasn’t been exposed?” My concern isn’t for the safety of Dominic; it’s for his brother. I don’t want anything to touch Mitch. If Dominic is exposed, there is definitely no way I’m letting him anywhere near Mitch.

  “No. As far as Anton knows, Morales turned on him too and instead of turning up for the meet, he sent the cops. Dominic’s cover wasn’t questioned.”

  “Jesus, what a fucking mess. I should have realized this wasn’t going to end well.” I shake my head, forgetting about my neck until the tightness hits me right before the pain.

  “Yeah, well it’s out of our hands now. Marsh isn’t going to give up until she has Morales. So you just worry about getting yourself back together,” Walker assures me, but I feel anything but reassured. There’s still the issue of Dominic coming back into Mitch’s life.

  “Well, the sooner I get out of here, the sooner I’m back,” I tell them, wondering how long I have to take off.

  The doctor explained my injuries last night but didn’t confirm how long I’d be out of work for. My guess is a few weeks.

  “I’m sorry, but no talk of going back to work while you’re still in the hospital, Liam,” my mom scolds from the doorway.

  “Yeah, listen to your mommy, boss,” Fox taunts from the corner of the room, clearly intent on pissing everyone off today.

  I don’t bother arguing with him or my mother. The fact she has Liberty and Kota at her back makes the decision a whole lot easier.