“You’re okay, Kyle,” she says. Her voice is higher than usual and shaking all over the place, and I can tell she’s still crying—and I can tell, because I know her, and because I’ve seen badly injured people before, that she has no idea whether or not I’m going to be okay. It’s a stomach wound. That isn’t good, I know. Not the worst it could possibly be. But not good.
The paramedics are lifting me, moving me away from her, and I want her with me, I don’t want to go, but my vision is blurring and she’s getting harder to see, harder to find. I think I’m reaching out for her, but maybe I’m not. I’m not sure what my arms are doing. I’m not sure what’s going on.
Things are bright around me for a brief moment—the inside of the ambulance—and I hear that wailing, mournful siren spring to life, and then the world seems to tilt and I’m sliding away to a place where nothing hurts.
Chapter 22
Tammy
From my chair beside Kyle’s hospital bed, I watch as the nurse checks his incision and makes notes on his chart.
“Any change?” I ask.
“It looks like the infection has cleared up,” she says, her voice maintaining its usual low, soothing cadence. I imagine she says horrible things to people all day in that easy tone, and they accept them and think to themselves, well, this can’t be that bad if she sounds like that about it! But even as I’m aware of what she’s doing, it’s working on me. My frazzled nerves are soothed.
“What does that mean?” I ask, wishing I had done what I thought of last night and written out a list of questions for the next time I had a nurse handy.
She smiles at me, a kind of tired, sad smile. “It means the antibiotics have done their job,” she says.
“So, he’s going to be all right?”
I think back to Kyle two days ago, burning with fever, so hot it made me cry to touch his skin, an ugly red patch spreading from the site of the bullet wound. It feels like forever since I’ve seen his eyes. He lost consciousness in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and hasn’t woken up since, and that was a week ago. I always thought that once you were shot, things moved very quickly—you lived or you died. I couldn’t have imagined this kind of hell, Kyle lingering somewhere in between, seeming better one day and worse the next while I roam the halls of this hospital like a ghost.
I don’t know what happened, exactly, except that he had an infection that’s made him incredibly sick. I know that more than one medical professional has sat in front of me and tried to explain it, but I can’t seem to take any of it in. I’ve lost all sense of myself in here. I don’t know whether it’s night or day. Sometimes, I look out the window and I’m surprised to see sunshine, and then I realize I still don’t know what day it actually is. The only reliable way to keep track of the passage of time is the whiteboard at the foot of Kyle’s bed, on which the nurses write down the date each morning.
I twist my body into impossible positions in the armchair beside Kyle’s bed. It’s a recliner. You would think it would be comfortable, but in actuality, my back is in knots. I don’t know how anyone does this. The nurses have brought me hospital blankets, but they’re too thin to cuddle under or draw any real comfort from. I think about people who endure long periods of time in the hospital. How do they get by with only these terrible blankets for comfort?
I order and eat hospital food three times a day. They deliver it to Kyle’s room for me, room-service style. Of course, because I’m not a patient here, I have to pay for it, but that’s fine. That doesn’t matter. I eat methodically, detached from any feeling of hunger, thinking only of my unborn twins. They need food. I can’t stop caring for them just because the rest of the world has ground to a halt.
A familiar face flashes across the always-on TV screen. I haven’t mustered the will to turn the thing off in days, because I don’t want to feel any more alone than I already do here. But the sight of the man on the screen makes me sit bolt upright and take notice.
It’s Elias—the screen shows his name in a subtitle, Elias Chambers, so I can’t question what I’m seeing—but I feel as though I’m looking at him for the first time. The cocky, arrogant look that has always defined him for me is gone, and in its place is an almost childish look of resentment and anger. For the first time since we arrived at the hospital, I remember that we left a trial behind, that there are things happening outside these walls that do concern me.
I lunge across the table of food to grab the remote that hangs by Kyle’s bed and bump up the volume on the report so I can hear what’s going on.
“Elias Chambers has been arrested on charges of kidnapping and criminal conspiracy,” the newscaster is saying. “Other charges are still pending. One of the leaders of the Pyrite Ranch cult, which was discovered and broken up two years ago, Chambers evaded capture until just this week. He now awaits trial.”
It’s weird to hear it called a cult, like it’s just an accepted fact. Even now, knowing all about it, I still think of it as the ranch. I still think of my time there as pastoral and calm. But it really was a cult. I was lied to. Manipulated. Used for free labor.
The screen switches to a shot of Xavier’s face. It’s disorienting. I remember a kindly older man, but seeing him from a distance like this, he just looks like a crazy person.
“Xavier Graves is thought to have been the leader of the cult,” the newscaster says. “Graves’ trial was set to take place this week, but in light of the arrests of Chambers and several other associates, the legal proceedings have been postponed. A number of key witnesses were injured leading up to Chambers’ capture, and while there were no fatalities, one witness remains in critical condition.”
My eyes dart to Kyle, lying motionless on the bed.
“According to a statement released today, the prosecution plans to indict Graves and Chambers simultaneously and hopefully try them quickly,” the newscaster wraps up. “With luck, a conviction will be reached, and these two will soon be in a place where they can do no more harm.”
I sigh and lower the volume of the TV, glancing at Kyle again. All of this is nothing but good news, of course. I haven’t been thinking about Xavier’s trial at all—how could I, with Kyle in this state?—but if I had, I would have been deeply concerned about what our being unable to testify would mean. I know that Kyle and I were the key witnesses for the prosecution. Without us, would they even have a case? Was there a chance Xavier would go free?
But now, I feel like I don’t have to worry about any of that. For one thing, there’s Elias’ capture. Having both men makes the case that much stronger, I’m sure—especially since they haven’t had a chance to talk to each other in two years and get their story straight. The police have had Xavier all this time, and I’m sure he’s sold out Elias at some point, no doubt bitter that he was arrested while Elias went free.
Now, Elias might tell the police that Xavier was behind everything, but at the very least, it will be obvious that their stories don’t match up at all and that neither of them is really to be trusted. That’s a wealth of evidence right there that they just don’t need me or Kyle for.
And if they do need us, it seems clear from the news report that they’re willing to wait. Now that I think about it, this seems obvious to me—nobody is going to rush into Elias’ trial while the man Elias shot is still unconscious in the hospital and unable to testify. That would be negligent, probably criminally so. And someone would have sent for me if I was needed. The state wants to win their case against Xavier, and they’re not willing to compromise that just because I feel torn apart.
All of this is a relief for another reason. I worried, when I confessed my pregnancy to the paramedics, that it would become public news. Of course, with Kyle reacting the way he did, anybody who cared to pay attention could have figured out who the father was and what had happened, and that could have compromised our reliability as witnesses. At least, I think it could have. That’s the thing we’ve been worried about all this time.
Maybe our
fears were for nothing; I don’t know. What I do know is that no one has so much as mentioned the pregnancy. It’s not on the news, and no one has contacted me to say I can’t serve as a witness because of it. More to the point, the state’s case now seems to be so strong that the fact that Kyle and I slept together shouldn’t be able to put much of a dent in it. It was irresponsible behavior on our part, but I no longer believe it will affect the outcome of Xavier’s trial.
And I no longer feel any measure of regret.
I didn’t even realize I was holding onto those last shards of regret and doubt until now, when they are lifted away. If anything Kyle and I did had cost us Xavier’s conviction, that would have been very hard to live with. And, I have to admit to myself as I sit here watching over him, the pain of losing him was more than I ever allowed myself to acknowledge. My feelings for Kyle are deep, and even though our decision not to pursue things was mutual, I was heartbroken.
And now, I might lose him anyway. Just when it turns out we might actually be able to safely be together and start our unorthodox little family.
I swallow a lump in my throat. The nurses have all encouraged me to talk to Kyle, although I suspect this is more for my benefit than his since there’s categorically nothing else I can do to be of help. I’ve made it my mission to keep my spirits up, to keep a note of cheer in my voice, so he doesn’t pick up on the fact that I’m afraid. I want him to think I’m just in a hurry to get out of the hospital and on to the next thing, not that I’m desperate for him to wake up and show me everything’s going to be all right.
“Don’t know if you heard that, Kyle,” I say, messing with the edge of his blanket a little to busy my hands. “They’ve got Elias now. They’re going to try him with Xavier. You and I might not even have to testify. Pretty great news, huh?”
I wait, but get only silence in response.
I sigh. “You probably can’t hear me, huh? I don’t know why you’d be able to. But talking to you does help, I guess. You know, there’s not a lot else to do in the hospital. I’ve gotten a few books from the gift shop, but nothing great. Honestly, I’m really looking forward to getting out of here.”
I swallow hard; my throat is tightening again.
“What do you say—how about waking up for me? We could go home. I mean, I know we never talked about what happens next or where we would go but…I want to stay with you. You and me and the babies. All together. And you can come to San Francisco and move in with me—or, actually, I guess we’d have to get a new place; my apartment isn’t big enough for a family of four.”
I place one hand on his arm and the other on my belly. A family of four. When I left San Francisco a little over a week ago, I was a single woman. Now, I’m part of a family of four.
“Just wake up,” I whisper, and my voice finally breaks, allowing emotion to seep in. “Please wake up. There’s so much for us to do together now.”
He doesn’t move, of course. This is crazy. I don’t know why I allowed myself to believe this would be helpful. I feel like crying, but I’ve done so much crying over the past few days that I’m physically incapable of summoning tears. Instead, I lean forward and rest my chin on Kyle’s mattress so that my eyes are just about level with his face.
“I don’t want you to think I’m demanding anything,” I say, because horribly, we never got a chance to talk about what would happen after the babies were born. “You seemed excited about the babies, and like you wanted to be involved in their lives. Is that true? Because I want you to be, but I don’t want to force anything.” I sigh. “I shouldn’t have said all that about us getting a place together. I’m sorry. I know we need to talk about our options first, and whatever you want will be okay, I promise. I’m not expecting you to turn your life over to accommodate…”
I hesitate on the pronoun for a second. “To accommodate us.”
No response.
“I just want you to know that I love you,” I say softly. “Even if you decide you don’t want to settle down, even if you aren’t interested in being a father…I’m glad this happened, Kyle, because I want these babies, and I can’t imagine wanting any man more than I want you. I’m glad it was you, okay? Whatever comes next. Whatever happens now. I’m glad this happened between you and me, and I promise you, I’m never going to regret a minute of it.”
“Tammy?”
The murmur shocks me into silence. I dart my gaze up to see Kyle’s eyes fluttering open.
“Kyle! Kyle, oh my God. Let me page the nurse…”
I fumble for the pager, but come up with the remote control for the TV instead. Where did it go?
“Tammy, you’re crying…” He raises a hand slowly to my cheek.
“I’m not crying,” I insist. I haven’t cried in…is it hours? Days?
“You are.” He shows me his fingers, wet with tears. “Are you all right?” Suddenly, his eyes go wide. “Is it the babies? They’re okay, aren’t they?”
“No, no, they’re fine,” I assure him quickly. “We’re all fine.”
“Did you get checked out? I remember you were so upset—you were panicking, and I was worried…”
“That’s what you remember?” I’m laughing, somehow, through my tears. “Kyle, you were shot in the stomach, and the thing you remember is that I was upset?”
“Well.” He makes a face. “I remember that part, too.”
“You’re in the hospital,” I tell him. “You’ve been really sick, unconscious for the past week. Things only really turned around last night. My God, I’m so glad to see you awake. How do you feel?”
He pauses for a moment, considering. “Hungry.”
“Well, that’s probably a good sign. I’ll call the nurse and we can have some food sent up, how does that sound?”
“Hang on,” Kyle says. “What about the trial? You said I’ve been in here for a week?”
“It was postponed,” I say, before quickly catching him up on everything I learned from the newscaster while he was unconscious.
“Oh,” he says, looking bolstered by the information. “That’s great news. And they’ve got Elias now, too? Wonderful. Now, I can really eat! Do they serve anything good around here?”
“It’s not as bad as you might expect.” I pass him the day’s menu. “Don’t even bother with the steak, though,” I warn him, having tried it myself on a previous occasion. “I don’t think it’s really meat.”
“You’ve been eating this stuff every day?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “I couldn’t stand the idea of leaving you. That probably seems pathetic.”
Suddenly, I feel ridiculous. I’m not anybody to Kyle, really. It’s not like I’m his girlfriend or his wife or his…anything. I’m just the woman he had a one-night stand with. The woman he saved from a twisted cult.
The woman who loves him.
I’m in trouble.
But he reaches out and catches my hand in his.
“I’m glad you were here,” he says quietly. “I would have been alone otherwise. And it’s more than that. I’m saying it wrong. I’m not just glad I had someone keeping me company. I’m glad it was you.” He squeezes my hand. “Do you understand what I mean?”
I don’t, not really. I feel like he’s trying to placate me, and I’m suddenly even more embarrassed.
“It’s not as if you knew I was here,” I point out.
But Kyle frowns and shakes his head. “You know, I’m not sure you’re right about that,” he says. “Sometimes, I felt…I don’t know how to explain this. It was like being with someone in a dream. Like you were there, but not there. I could hear your voice, but you were too far away to reach.”
I’m breathless. Could the nurse have been right about talking to unconscious people?
“What did I say?”
“That we were a family,” he says. “You and me and our babies. And that after I got out of the hospital, we would go somewhere and start a life together.”
“Kyle, you have to know I’m not tr
ying to take advantage of the situation to force you into—”
“Tammy.” He holds up a hand. “Stop. Stop it. Why are you assuming you’d be forcing me? Why are you so sure I don’t want to be with you?”
“I…” I can’t finish the sentence. I can’t articulate the truth. It’s just such a beautiful fantasy, I can’t imagine it being real.
“I want that,” Kyle says, and squeezes my hand. “Everything you said. All of it. I want a home with you. I want a family with you. I want to get out of this hospital and start right now.”
I close my eyes, feeling like my heart might burst from joy.
Chapter 23
Kyle
The next seven months seem to pass us by at light speed.
Tammy and I decided to stay in Sacramento until the trial concluded, putting off having to make a decision about where to go and what to do next. This decision required a tense phone call to her parents, who evidently had had no idea she’d left San Francisco at all. I went into the hallway of the hotel where we’d taken a long-term reservation while she talked to them, and when I came back into the room, she was crying and laughing at the same time, saying “I love you” over and over into the phone. Pregnancy hormones had her pretty emotional in those early days, but then again, I couldn’t explain it all away with the pregnancy. It was a pretty emotional time for me, too.
As it turned out, we didn’t have to stay nearly as long as we’d anticipated. The trial concluded quickly, and Xavier and Elias both received long prison sentences—they won’t be out for decades, and even then, only if their parole comes through. In my opinion, they’ll both need radical personality makeovers to convince anyone they’ve reformed.
Either way, we’ve decided to put that chapter of our lives behind us.
Most of the other accomplices got shorter sentences. Tammy said she felt that was appropriate. They had, on some level, been victimized, too. Some of them, she says, were even her friends on the ranch. She doesn’t especially want to see bad things happen to them.
In Deep - A Secret Twins Romance (Once a SEAL, Always a SEAL Book 6) Page 16