Deringer lifted Nate in his arms with the help of one of the security guards and they followed Tonya back upstairs. Without a thought she went to her bedroom. The bed in the other room wasn’t made and she didn’t want to waste valuable time making it. Besides, she had no doubt that Deringer would be staying and he needed a place to sleep as well. At least, that’s what she told herself. In reality, she simply wanted Nate as close to her as possible and that meant sleeping in her bed. She shoved the covers off, leaving only the bottom sheet and pillows, then turned to help Deringer lower Nate to the bed. Looking down at his nearly unconscious face, she couldn’t resist the urge and kissed him lightly on the lips. He managed a slight smile in response.
Deringer immediately stepped away from the bed and pulled out his phone. She could hear him yelling at someone, but her attention was totally focused on Nate.
Deringer came back over to the bed where she was removing Nate’s shoes. He had a bandage wrapped around his torso under his loose-fitting t-shirt, and his disreputable looking jeans had several tears, but knowing Nate the damage wasn’t necessarily recent. Deringer stepped back over to the bed.
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” he said, giving her security detail a pointed look.
Tonya stepped away from the bed reluctantly. “What is it?”
“Can you get rid of these guys?”
“But what about -- ” She didn’t want to mention any names.
“Taken care of...but my friends can’t come with them in the house.”
“Okay. No problem.” She walked back out into the living room, the one security guard following her.
Callie sprang up from the sofa where she had been sitting holding her babies in her arms. “What’s going on?”
Good grief! She’d forgotten all about Callie. How stupid she’d been to let her bring her children into this dangerous situation.
“Is Nate going to be okay?” Callie asked. “I thought he was dead.”
“I thought so too, but I think he’ll be alright now. Look, I can’t tell you what’s going on yet, but I need you to go on home.”
Callie nodded. “Yeah, it’s time for the kid’s nap. Are you going to be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Let me have one of these guys follow you to make sure you get home.”
Callie shook her head. “No. That would only worry Bryan.”
“I’m sure that’s true. I’ll call you.”
“Yeah, you do that.”
Tonya sighed as Callie and the kids walked out the door. She knew the other woman was deeply hurt that she wasn’t sharing the details of what was going on with her, but it was just too dangerous. Right now she didn’t even know the whole story herself. She rubbed her eyes, holding back the easy tears of exhaustion. She hadn’t been sleeping well, and now with Nate having returned injured she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. She took a moment to dismiss the security detail, and then returned to the room where Nate lay.
“Okay, they’re gone. Is he unconscious?” she asked Deringer.
“No, I think he’s just sleeping.”
“When do you think help will be arriving?”
“They should be here at any minute.”
“Why on earth wouldn’t he go to a hospital?” she asked.
“Bullet wounds mean cops.”
“That doesn’t explain coming here. I assume your Department has plans in place for these situations.”
“No it doesn’t make sense, but it’s not my story to tell,” Deringer said.
Tonya gave the man a frustrated glance, but decided not to waste anymore time. She looked down at Nate who did seem to be asleep, though really she didn’t have enough experience to know the difference. At first she moved to pull the covers over him, but decided to remove his jeans instead. They had to be very uncomfortable. Her first thought was to simply cut off the ripped and stained jeans as they looked ready for the trash, but Deringer advised they were actually Nate’s favorites. She shook her head at his sartorial choices, but the man had been through enough besides she was pretty sure she could remove them without jostling him too much. Deringer came over to the bed to help her, and they got them off with little trouble. She stood at the foot of the bed holding one of his long elegant feet. Terrified beyond measure that he would die she closed her eyes and said a quick prayer. Then she pulled the covers up to his shoulders. Deringer stood beside her, silent as usual. When she spoke her voice sounded raw even to her own ears. “He’s not going to die. I won’t let him.”
“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” Deringer said.
It didn’t take long for the Department’s medical team, or cutters as Nate called them, to arrive. Both men were tall, but while one was thin, almost emaciated, the other was buff and muscular. It was obvious from their mannerisms and the vocabulary they used that both were doctors or at least close to it. Tonya was surprised by the amount of equipment they brought with them, including a portable x-ray machine. She moved to the other side of the bed to give them room, but refused to leave while they examined Nate. They moved in the brisk efficient way of medical professionals everywhere. Tonya flinched a couple of times, as it was obvious that they hurt Nate. She held his hand as they put in a chest tube. He cried out during the procedure though he was sedated. She was just about to unleash with some powerful cussing when they finally finished.
They had installed an IV line with painkillers and antibiotics, so now Nate was resting more comfortably. The cutters had retreated to the kitchen where Deringer was making coffee and other refreshments, but Tonya remained in the room sitting beside the bed. Watching. Just watching Nate. He was definitely breathing more easily without that rasp that had so frightened her earlier. The medics told her that the bullet hadn’t pierced his lung. However, the impact of his cracked rib slamming into his lung had bruised it pretty badly, causing immense amounts of fluid to build up in his chest cavity. That pressure was making it difficult for him to breathe. The tube should alleviate that problem. According to them, pneumonia was his greatest danger, but he was a young healthy man, and they’d given him antibiotics in his IV, so he was probably through the worst of it.
“Why don’t you go get a bite to eat?” Deringer asked from the doorway.
Tonya shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”
Neither said anything more for a moment. “You know watching him like that will wake him up. It’s hard to rest when someone’s watching you, especially with our training. We sleep lightly anyway. He’s probably only asleep now because they pumped enough drugs in him to take down a caribou.”
Tonya immediately rose from her chair. She had no experience with sick or wounded people, but Deringer did. The last thing she wanted was to hinder Nate’s progress.
“Where did the cutters go?” she asked.
“They’re going to bunk in the other bedroom for the night. I set up the inflatable bed, so they should be okay. I’ll take the couch. Come on and have some coffee. He’ll need you later.”
Tonya frowned. If the cutters were going to stay maybe Nate was in worse shape than they’d let on, but when she asked Deringer about it he shook his head.
“No. They’re not from around here, but they need to check on him through the rest of the night. They can’t do that from a hotel.”
That made sense. With one last look at Nate, Tonya followed Deringer into the kitchen for coffee.
She took a couple sips of the potent liquid; he made it black tar heroin strong so it was sure to keep her awake all night. “Did he tell you what happened?”
“Not the details, no.”
“How did he get shot?”
Deringer shrugged. “I have no idea. I assume it happened when he escaped, but I’m not sure.”
“So how do you know the Rooster is dead?”
“He told me.”
“Well if he told you that why didn’t he tell you how he got shot?”
“When I found him he was half-dead in a tree. Do you really thin
k I took a helluva lot of time asking for the details?”
He was right of course. There would be plenty of time to ask Nate when he woke up. Standing there at the kitchen counter, she stared into space, not really seeing anything, but listening intently for any sound from Nate.
Deringer took a long sip of his coffee. “Tell me about Roshonda.”
Tonya took a deep breath, struggling to keep up with the subject change. “What?”
“Tell me about Roshonda.”
“Why do you want to know?”
He gave her a pointed look. “Why do you think I want to know?”
“You mean you’re interested in her? As a man?” she barely squeaked out.
“What else would I be interested in her as? A wildebeest?” Deringer said.
“I thought you might be trying to distract me from asking questions you don’t want to answer.”
“There is that.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. If you want to know Ro’s business you have to ask Ro. Just one thing, she’s my friend and if you’re just playing with her you’ll have me to deal with.”
“Fair enough. Now do you want a sandwich or something else to eat?”
The next few hours were some of the most difficult Tonya had ever experienced. Despite the medication he’d been given, Nate didn’t have a restful sleep. He cried out continuously, mostly in French but she understood some of what he was saying. His piteous cries of loneliness, of needing and missing her broke her heart and brought her to tears more than once. The cutters assured her that he didn’t have a fever and wasn’t delirious. Apparently the stress from the gunshot wound had triggered nightmares and flashbacks. Finally they gave him an anti-anxiety drug, which helped him rest. Even so, and in spite of Deringer’s warning, she spent most of the night watching the rise and fall of his battered chest, too terrified to leave for more than a few minutes. Thinking about how he’d come close to death again, this time protecting her made her shudder with almost uncontrollable fear. If he’d died trying to save her...
* * * * *
“What are you doing sitting there?” Nate asked. It was the second time he’d awakened in the past seven hours. The other time he’d just smiled at her and drifted back to sleep.
Tonya sat up in the recliner she’d curled up in. “Watching you.” She rose to her feet, stretching out the soreness from sitting up all night. “I need to let the cutters know you’re awake.”
“Wait a minute. How long have you been sitting there?”
“A while,” she said with a shrug. “Seriously, I need to get them.”
“Okay, but come back.”
Tonya nodded as she rushed out of the room. When she returned with the medics she thought for a moment that he’d fallen asleep again, but he turned his head to face the door when they came back in.
As they went over medical questions with Nate, she stood on the opposite side of the bed watching. Finally they pronounced him in good shape and removed the IV. They gave Tonya detailed instructions for maintaining the chest tube and promised to return in a couple of days to remove it. After checking their patient over one more time and ensuring he had proper pain medication they departed. Tonya watched them leave a bit nervously, not really sure she could handle a patient, but desperately wanting to try.
“Have you had any sleep at all?”
“I wasn’t sleepy.”
“Why don’t you lie down with me?” he asked.
“So I can finish what the Rooster started and put that rib right through your lung?”
“Not going to happen. They’ve got me swaddled up like King Tut, little sister,” he said. “I can’t rest knowing you’re not sleeping. It’s a big bed.”
Then what had he been doing all this time she wanted to ask, instead she simply nodded. She was tired, so she lay down on the bed, but as far away from him as possible.
“If you don’t move over here where I can at least touch you I’m going to move over there.”
She immediately scooted over and took his hand. Their mutual sighs were audible in the room. Tonya felt as though she had finally reconnected with something long lost and now her soul could rest. And like that, holding hands they both drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Thirteen
“I seriously wonder if you have any active brain cells at all.”
Roshonda nearly jumped out of her skin as she wheeled around to face Deringer. How the hell did he keep doing this?
“Stop sneaking up on me.” She’d worked late and was really too tired to deal right now. The store was buzzing with business, probably because of all the publicity from Tonya’s disappearance and return. And the new spa had suddenly developed some cash flow problems. Tonya had been taking care of Nate for the past week, and Roshonda didn’t have the heart to ask for help. Callie had finally returned to L.A. to get ready to give birth. There was nobody available to put out all the fires, and she’d spent most of the day on the phone with banks and financiers. Not exactly her idea of fun, and now this guy was going to top off a really sucky day.
“Who was sneaking? Hell I could’ve come through here with a marching band with as much attention as you were paying your surroundings. What in the hell are you doing out here by yourself after dark?” Deringer asked.
“Are you crazy? This is Maple Fork, Alabama. Everybody in this town knows me. Nobody will hurt me.” The tiny six-car parking lot was well lit and visible from the street. Only an idiot would try anything there. All the buildings faced the center square, but the cross-streets were still busy even at this hour.
“Oh and you think Mayberry is wrapped in bubble wrap or something? People do occasionally come here from the outside.”
“Yeah, I know.” She gave him a pointed look.
He chuckled, his white teeth gleaming in the dim light. “Trust me there are much worse out there than me.”
“You couldn’t have proved it by me,” she muttered under her breath, but, of course, he heard her.”
“Trust me. Much worse. What do you think I am anyway?”
“A mercenary. A hired gun,” Roshonda said, but she wasn’t really sure. Tonya hadn’t shared all that much information about her disappearance or this dude’s appearance. She hadn’t liked to ask. Her friend looked more exhausted each day.
Deringer shrugged. “Close enough. You don’t need to be out here alone.
“Look. I’m old enough to take care of myself. I haven’t exactly lived a sheltered life. I’m Squat Low’s daughter. I know how to take care of myself.”
“Squat Low, huh? Your old man likes craps, huh?”
“Yeah, amongst other things. Par for the course in Happy Holler.”
“What the hell is that?”
“If you must know, it’s the wrong side of the tracks,” she said.
“Mayberry has a bad side? Do tell.”
“Isn’t there a bad side to every town? Happy Holler has the usual suspects -- gambling, liquor, drugs and prostitutes. It’s all there.”
“Sounds like my kind of place,” he said, frowning as he rubbed his small goatee. “But that’s not where you live now, unless it’s the world’s most discreet red-light district.”
She gave him a sharp look. “How do you know where I live?”
“Recon. Us hired guns like to know what we’re dealing with.”
“You’ve been following me?” Roshonda asked with a gasp.
“Nope. I can use Google like anyone else.”
“Why did you google me?”
“I told you. Recon,” he said.
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Probably because I’m lying.”
Roshonda sucked her teeth. “Why?”
“I just wanted to know everything I could about you.”
“Okay, here’s my story in a nutshell. Born in Happy Holler. Did everything I could to get out. Got hired by Tonya and Callie while I was taking accounting classes at the community college. Worked my way up to operations manager. End of s
tory.”
“That can’t be the end of the story. What about your love life?”
Why wasn’t she surprised that he asked her that? Even spooky men were too damned predictable. “Nonexistent. I’m off men.”
“Who hurt you, baby? I promise I’ll make him disappear.”
Roshonda took a deep breath. Despite the laughter in his voice there was a feral gleam in his eyes. He meant exactly what he said. He could make people disappear, and had no qualms about doing so. Permanently. This man was dangerous. Even deadly. She struggled to match his light tone. “He already did,” she said with a humorless laugh. “Besides, he’s not important. It was a long time ago.”
“May I kiss you?”
“What?” In her surprise the question came out as a croak.
“I’d like to kiss you. You know, to make the hurt go away.”
“I told you. It was a long time ago,” she said, automatically stepping back as he approached. She wasn’t able to move far as he stood between her and the parking lot. Though she suspected that if he wanted to kiss her she could be on the other side of the world and it wouldn’t be large enough for her to escape.
“If that’s the case you shouldn’t mind kissing me.”
Roshonda wanted to kick herself. He was as slick a guy as she’d ever dealt with and he had her in a bind. If she didn’t want him to think she was pining over someone -- someone who in his mind needed killing, she had to kiss him. Otherwise he’d start asking questions and far too many people in this town knew about her less than stellar love life. Ex-boyfriends were liable to disappear as fast as he could google them. She almost laughed; death by Google, but it wasn’t really funny. How bad could a kiss be? She turned her face up pursing her lips as she intended to give him no more than a brief peck.
That was her last lucid thought as she was suddenly swept into a maelstrom of emotion so strong that she couldn’t think. She could only feel. Her senses were inundated with him -- his scent, the feel of his lips pressed to hers, even the buttons of his shirt digging into her flesh all combined to trigger a level of stimulation she’d never experienced. And that goatee – she’d wondered how it felt, now she knew; it was soft and incredibly sensuous against her skin. Before she could catch her breath she was pressed up against the wall of the building. Suddenly his hands were under her blouse seeking the bare skin of her back and pulling her even closer. She ground against him, needing the hardness that pressed against the vee of her legs. He pressed back growling deep in his throat as he sought the curve of her neck.
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