by Macy Largo
“Ah, babe, but you sure will.” He nibbled on her neck, making her laugh.
She was getting the hang of it and he stepping back so she could do it on her own when he caught movement at the corner of the house. By the time he realized the man had a gun, he knew it was too late.
Screaming her name, he dove in front of her, knocking her down as he felt pain explode through his gut.
* * * *
Jerald’s pulse raced so fast he couldn’t tell one beat from the next. He kicked the guy’s gun away and checked his pulse, even though that was unnecessary. Half the fucker’s head was gone.
He screamed into his radio for them to send deputies and an ambulance as he followed the sound of Daphne’s screams. At least she was alive.
He rounded the corner and knew he was still screaming into his radio when he dropped to his knees beside them. Alan’s eyes were closed, and Daphne—Holy Christ! She was covered in blood!
She looked at him. As her screams turned to sobs he realized the blood was Alan’s.
“Are you okay?” he yelled, shaking her shoulders.
She’d pressed a hand to Alan’s wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. “He threw himself in front of me! I never saw the guy!”
Alan’s eyes fluttered open and Jerald breathed a sigh of relief as he grabbed his hand. “The ambulance is on the way, buddy, hang on.”
“Jer, do me a favor,” he muttered.
He fought his tears. “What?”
“Go shut that fucking power washer off, please?”
Jerald’s hands shook as he fumbled and found the power switch. As silence descended, Jerald heard the scream of approaching sirens.
“You get the fucker?” Alan asked.
“Yeah, I got him.”
“Good.” His eyes closed.
Daphne sobbed, screaming his name. Jerald checked his pulse, he was still alive, still breathing.
When he heard the sirens reach their driveway, he screamed for them and had to fight to pull Daphne away from Alan as the EMTs ran to them. He held her as she struggled in his arms, trying to get back to Alan.
Still numb from shock, all he could do was hold her and watch them work on Alan. As more deputies arrived and the EMTs prepared to take Alan, he waved one of them over and forced Daphne to go with them. “She’s not hurt, but she needs to go with him. She’s his girlfriend.”
Daphne was too out of it to realize what he’d said and let the EMT lead her around the house to the ambulance.
They loaded Alan on a gurney and Jerald realized his knees wouldn’t support him when he tried to stand. He knelt there, hands on the ground, struggling not to cry, not to scream.
One of the deputies made it over to him. “What happened?”
Jerald couldn’t answer him. He shook his head, then threw up.
The deputy called for help and two of them hauled Jerald to his feet and got him seated at the picnic table on the deck. With shaky hands, he managed to unholster his weapon and lay it on the table as he told them what happened and why he suspected the gunman was there.
“So you live here, and Alan Walker is your boyfriend?”
He was too heartsick and worried to think about pretenses. “It’s the three of us. Me and Alan and Daphne.”
Thirty minutes later, his supervisor showed up right behind the Medical Examiner’s van, delaying his departure to the hospital even longer until he went through everything again. He knew he’d be put on administrative leave until the investigation wound up, and that was fine with him. All he wanted to do was get to Alan.
Please let him live.
When they finally told him he could leave, he ran inside, grabbed clean clothes for Daphne, and locked up before driving to the hospital. They already had a deputy there with Daphne, keeping her in a private conference room near the ER.
When he walked in, she started crying and hugged him desperately, sobbing as she fell into his arms. “He’s in surgery,” she choked out. “They can’t tell us anything yet.”
He guided her over to a small sofa and pulled her into his lap. She wore a patient’s gown over her shorts and they’d gotten the blood scrubbed off her.
His stomach rolled at the memory of how she looked holding Alan and covered in his blood.
“I brought clothes for you, babe,” he managed. “Why don’t we get you changed.”
The deputy stepped outside while he helped her change. Then when Jerald realized how much she was shivering, most likely still in shock, he asked for a couple of blankets and sat with her wrapped in them and laying on his lap.
Her eyes had glazed over and he wondered if they’d given her any kind of sedatives. “He jumped in front of me,” she whispered. “He saved me.”
He tightened his grip on her. “He’s going to be okay.”
“You got the guy?”
“Yeah, I got him.” She started crying again, and he was about to send the deputy out for a doctor when she finally fell asleep in his arms.
When a nurse knocked on the door an hour later, she noticed Daphne asleep. “Mr. Walker’s family?”
Jerald nodded.
“He’s doing well, the doctor is about to close him up. He’ll be in to talk to you when he’s finished.”
Jerald wanted to cry and forced them back. “He’s going to be okay?”
“The doctor will come talk to you, but so far, he’s doing well, he’s stable, and his vital signs are good.”
When the nurse left he took a minute to regain his composure and dry his own tears before he kissed Daphne’s forehead. “Babe, wake up.”
She startled awake, but he held her, keeping her from falling out of his lap. “He’s going to be out of surgery soon. He’s doing well.”
Her eyes immediately welled up again as she started sobbing. “This is all my fault,” she moaned. “He got shot because of me.”
“Shh. Hush. Just rest. Try to go back to sleep.” He stroked her shoulders and tried to calm her.
When the doctor came in another long hour later, Jerald couldn’t read his expression. “The bullet missed his spine, and it went out the other side. It did some damage, but he came through surgery fine and I believe we repaired all his injuries. Right now, all we can do is wait and see, make sure there isn’t any internal bleeding or infection.”
“He’s going to live?” Jerald asked.
The doctor smiled. “Barring any complications, yes, he should make a full recovery. I’m going to keep him in the ICU tonight, though. If he does fine and there’s no sign of infection, we’ll move him to a room tomorrow.”
“Can we see him?” Jerald asked.
“Go on up to the ICU. They’ll let you visit for a few minutes, but he’s sedated. He won’t be awake until morning, most likely.”
Daphne nearly collapsed in the ICU when they stepped into Alan’s cubicle. He was off the ventilator, but unconscious, pale, and frail looking.
Jerald wanted to crawl into the bed with him and hold him and cry himself to sleep, but knew he couldn’t. He maintained his stony façade for Daphne, pretending to be strong for her. He felt barely able to pull it together to keep her upright and get her home. Even with a deputy standing watch over Alan throughout the night, and another assigned to stay with them that night at the house, Jerald knew the only reason he’d be able to sleep was sheer exhaustion. When the federal prosecutors wanted to question them, he told them they’d have to wait until the next morning.
Daphne didn’t speak, let him lead her inside the house and to the shower where he held her under the spray. She clung to him, her eyes wide and vacant.
It wasn’t until he had her tightly wrapped in his arms in their bed that she spoke. “He’s going to hate me,” she whispered.
“What?” He forced her to roll over. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“He got shot because of me. He’s going to hate me.”
“Babe, you didn’t shoot him. He’s not going to hate you.” He hadn’t even had time to contemp
late the fact that he’d shot someone, although the fact it was a man who’d shot his lover took away whatever feelings of guilt he might have over it.
She didn’t argue with him. A few minutes later, he realized she’d fallen asleep.
He kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
* * * *
Jerald awoke before Daphne the next morning and called the hospital. Alan had done well, actually woke up at one point, was resting comfortably now and they expected he’d be moved into a room in a few hours.
He took a mug of coffee in to her and woke her. Her eyes looked red and puffy. “He’s doing well this morning. Let’s get cleaned up and go see him, okay?”
She didn’t speak, just nodded.
He let out a sigh and brushed her hair away from her face. While less exhausted than the night before, he knew he had to keep his emotions reined in around her, couldn’t let her see him get upset. She needed his strength. “Let’s eat a little something and get a wake-up shower.”
Within an hour they were driving to the hospital with the deputy guarding them following closely behind. Federal prosecutors awaited them and wouldn’t be denied their interview. Jerald sat with Daphne in a conference room, holding her hand while she recounted the events. She listened while he told his side of the story.
“Did you identify the guy?” Jerald asked when he finished.
“Yeah. He’s one of Scorsini’s guys from New York. We’re backtracking now.”
After a few more minutes, they finally let Jerald and Daphne go to the ICU. Alan opened his eyes and weakly smiled when he heard them enter his cubicle.
“Hey,” he mumbled.
Jerald struggled and somehow held back his tears. He leaned over and kissed Alan. “Hey.”
Alan looked at Daphne and offered her a weak smile. “Come here and kiss me.”
Jerald knew she struggled to maintain what little composure she could muster. She leaned in and kissed him. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, babe.” He squeezed her hand.
They could only visit for a few minutes in the ICU, but they soon moved him to a private room where a deputy stood guard outside. Once Alan was settled, Daphne and Jerald took up positions on either side of his bed. Alan soon drifted to sleep again.
Jerald stared across the bed at Daphne. Her gaze never wavered from Alan’s face.
What about the next time? What if he didn’t come home in time?
He excused himself to the bathroom and stood there, his body trembling as he held onto the sink and tried to calm himself.
What if Alan hadn’t seen the guy? What if he hadn’t thrown himself in front of her?
She might have died.
Alan could have died.
Jerald wouldn’t let himself think about how time seemed to slow down when he drew and shot, how a chunk of the guy’s head had exploded in a spray of blood and brain matter.
When he knew he could maintain his composure, he returned to the room. Daphne had laid her head on the bed next to Alan’s shoulder and stared up at him like a lost puppy. It broke his heart. It wasn’t her fault he’d been shot. If anyone was to blame other than Paulie Scorsini, it was him for not protecting them.
He looked up an hour later when one of the prosecutors entered the room and motioned for him to step outside. He introduced Jerald to another man. “Major Carter, this is Special Agent Ben Williams, with the U.S. Marshals office.”
Jerald waited for them to get to the point, and Williams didn’t dick around. “We need to discuss protective custody for Ms. Peres.”
His heart tightened. He’d promised her. “Look, can we wait a day or two on this? She’s not doing well right now.”
Williams didn’t look happy about it. “I want to talk to her about this sooner rather than later. We need her testimony to put Paulie Scorsini away permanently. We do that, we can flip several others high up in the organization, but unless he’s convicted, they won’t testify. You can’t keep them safe all the time. If we don’t have her in protective custody, it’s only a matter of time before they try again. Next time, you might not be there to save them.”
He returned to Alan’s bedside with Williams’ words ringing in his ears.
Daphne must have noticed his expression. “Jer, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “I’m fine. They just had a few more questions for me.”
Alan’s doctor made rounds and assured them he was doing well.
All Jerald wanted to do was curl up next to Alan and bawl like a fucking baby.
After another hour, he couldn’t take it. He couldn’t be strong, he couldn’t get Williams’ words out of his brain, and he hated that he couldn’t do anything other than sit there and stare at Alan.
He kissed Alan, who’d fallen asleep again, then Daphne. “I’ll be back in a little bit. I need to go talk to some people.”
She caught his arm before he could step away, and her eyes finally met his. “I love you,” she whispered.
He took a deep breath and leaned again and kissed her one more time. “I love you too, baby.” He stroked her cheek. “More than I can ever tell you.”
Chapter Fourteen
Jerald returned home. His gut clenched, tight, threatening to squeeze the coffee and bagel he’d forced down that morning back out through his gullet.
Alan would live, but it’d been close. If he hadn’t shown up when he did, hadn’t shot the gunman, no telling what would have happened.
They both could have died.
He was done trying to follow his heart instead of procedure. He loved Alan, and he loved Daphne, but both of them were in danger as long as she stayed with them. Until the trial ended and Scorsini sat in prison, she needed to be kept safe. He could not protect her, no matter how much he wished he could, despite what he’d promised. It didn’t matter she’d only been with them for four months, he loved her almost as much as he loved Alan.
He damn sure wouldn’t let her die.
After considering it for a few minutes, he made up his mind and refused to look back. He found a couple of duffel bags in the hall closet and went to her room. He packed all her clothes, used another bag for her stuff from the bathroom. Scanning the house, he tried to find everything that belonged to her and packed it. There wasn’t much. Finally, with it all loaded in his truck, he called Special Agent Williams and arranged to meet him.
Back at the hospital, Daphne remained at Alan’s bedside while a uniformed deputy watched over both of them. She looked up when Jerald walked in. This wouldn’t be easy. He risked not only her hating him, but Alan too.
He had to take the risk for both their sakes. He was their lover, but he was also a cop. Their safety had to come first.
“Did you find out anything else about the guy that shot him?” she softly asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing.” She clung to Alan’s hand, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
He hated seeing Alan looking so vulnerable, his normally tan skin pale and grey. Alan slowly opened his eyes at the sound of Jerald’s voice. Jerald had to shove his own tears back again.
“Hey, tough guy,” Alan softly said.
Jerald forced a smile as he leaned in and kissed his forehead. “Hey, buddy. How you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been gutshot.” He weakly smiled, his brown eyes full of pain.
“Yeah? You look like it, too. Must have been one hell of a party.”
“Yeah. Sure seems like it.”
“That’ll teach you to try to tackle home improvement chores without me. I need to borrow Daph for a few minutes, okay?”
He nodded.
Jerald patted her shoulder. “Come on, kiddo. I’ll buy you a coffee.”
She glanced at him, but leaned in and kissed Alan. “Love you. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Love you, too, baby doll.”
Jerald steeled himself. She would hate him. Alan might hate him too, bu
t it was the only option. Once she calmed down and saw reason, she would hopefully understand and forgive him. When the trial ended, they could be together again without the risk of death hanging over their heads.
Not a perfect solution, but better than risking their lives. He wouldn’t get any sleep or even be able to work and focus on his job if she wasn’t in witness protection. He’d been stupid, never should have agreed to her living with Alan, should have forced her into protective custody at the start.
Then again, they never would have fallen in love with her if they’d done that.
She waited until they were in the corridor, after he draped his arm around her shoulders, to quiz him. “What’s going on?”
“We need to talk, sweetie.” He led her into a conference room down the hall. They still had it to themselves, but wouldn’t for long. He pulled her to him for a long, strong hug. Probably the last he’d ever get from her for a long, long time.
If ever.
“I love you so much,” he mumbled in her hair. “I love both of you. I thought you were both dead when I saw that guy, and then I thought for sure Alan was when I ran around the corner. I can’t risk losing you guys again like that.”
She held on tightly. “I love you, too. You know I do. You’re not losing us. Either of us. They said he’ll be okay and we can take him home hopefully in a week or two at the most.”
He took a deep breath. “I can’t risk Scorsini trying again. This was too fucking close.”
“What are you saying?” She looked up into his face, trying to understand.
“You have to go into protective custody,” he quietly said.
She stared at him, stunned, before she shook her head. “I told you I don’t want to. I want to stay with you.”
He stroked her cheek. “Baby, I can’t watch you twenty-four seven. You are going into protective custody. You have to. It’s the only way I can guarantee your safety.”
She stepped back, her face paling. “I won’t go. I won’t leave you guys. You promised! You said you wouldn’t make me go!”
“You don’t have a choice. The federal marshals are waiting outside. You’re going with them.”