“And I told you that your feelings are not one-sided.” Reggie gazes at her, eyes bright.
It takes Chrissy some time to understand, truly understand, what Reggie is telling her. It’s impossible. How can Reggie love me? How can Reggie feel the same depth of emotion for me when I’m nothing, worthless, when even my own parents kicked me out?
“If you’d died, I would’ve been left with these feelings I need to express. I’ve never fallen this fast or this hard.” Reggie glares at her. “And even though it scares me, I need you. So, you see, you simply can’t leave me. I need the opportunity,” Chrissy is shocked to hear Reggie’s voice break, “to love you.”
Full of questions and doubts and hope and love, Chrissy’s breath catches in her throat. In Reggie’s eyes she sees the torment, the adoration, the hope, and Chrissy understands. I’m sorry I frightened you. I know how I’d feel if our roles were reversed. That’s what Chrissy says in her head. It’s what she means to say out loud. But she’s exhausted. The pain is pulsing through her, and what comes out is, “When I feel better, I’m gonna kiss you ’til you pass out.”
A burst of laughter erupts from Reggie, who covers her mouth. Tears stream down her cheeks, her long fingers trembling in front of her parted lips, and Chrissy wants to pull her in, comfort her, love her. Instead she squeezes the hand she holds. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
They sit in silence, allowing themselves the time to accept what has occurred and the comfort of knowing they’re together now.
“Are you in much pain?” Reggie asks, her eyes bouncing all over Chrissy, a crease marring her forehead.
“Yeah. What’s wrong with me? Did the doctor tell you? And what time is it?” Chrissy has a terrible thought. “I didn’t miss Christmas, did I?” She doesn’t think she’s been out of it for that long, but everything’s so hazy.
“It’s around nine at night on Friday. You haven’t missed Christmas.”
I’ve been out for about four hours then. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. We can still get a tree and celebrate. Chrissy’s relieved. She looks forward to spoiling Ben at Christmas.
Reggie runs her hand over Chrissy’s cheek, giving her a small smile. “The doctor told me what’s wrong with you, which reminds me…when did you have me named as your healthcare proxy? That’s something you normally tell a person.”
“Oh, um, yeah. I’m sorry, Reggie. I was talking to Cathy last week about the holidays, and she said it’s a good idea to have my affairs in order since I’m a single mom. She drew up the paperwork, and I named you on everything…executor of the will, Ben’s guardian, power of attorney, healthcare proxy, and the personal representative for the HIPAA release. I signed everything today while you were at court. I was going to tell you this afternoon. I don’t have any family members I trust. I know we only got together last week, but I knew that if anything happened to me, you’d take care of Ben. And me.” She stops when she sees Reggie’s eyes tearing up. “I’m sorry, Reggie. I’ll change them once I’m out of here.”
“No, no. You misunderstand. I’m honored you trust me to such an extent.” Reggie swipes at her eyes with her finger, smearing a small amount of eyeliner. “Although if I had known, I wouldn’t have masqueraded as your wife.”
“Wh…what?”
Reggie straightens up, tossing her hair back in an extremely confident, attractive, don’t-fuck-with-me kind of way and scowls. “I needed to know how badly hurt you are.”
Noticing Reggie’s defiant stare, and in truth loving her arrogance, Chrissy doesn’t challenge her. Nope, not worth worrying about. “So, how bad am I?”
She feels a dull pounding in the back of her head, but she hasn’t really tried to move around, afraid she might hurt herself. Reggie leans forward to deliver a sweet kiss before sighing with relief.
“Two fractured ribs on your left side, abrasions and contusions on your knees, shoulders, and arms. When you tackled him, he shot at you and missed. He hit the glass panels surrounding my door, and in the scuffle you were cut by some of the glass shards. Those will probably hurt for a bit, particularly the ones on your shoulder and calf. They used surgical glue on them.” Reggie stops, her clinical voice falling away.
“Glue? Not stitches?”
“You’re showing your age.” Reggie smiles for a moment before her face becomes solemn once more. “You know, you’re lucky to be alive. What you did was extremely brave…and stupid.”
Chrissy nods. She is lucky. She inhales deeply and coughs. Pain slices through her, and she places a hand over her ribs, trying to stop her body from moving. Exhausted, Chrissy’s eyes close against her will. She needs to rest a moment. Long fingers comb through her hair, and she smiles. That feels good.
When Chrissy wakes up, she notices a few things. Fingers still comb through her hair. Voices murmur. Her body feels heavy. Her throat is dry. And besides her ribs, she feels niggling pain sparking from her leg, arm, and shoulder. She’s a mess. Lying still, Chrissy listens as the voices become clearer. She hears Ben. Reggie. Cathy. David. And is that Attorney Hawk? Finally ready, Chrissy opens her eyes.
“Who decided to have a party in here?” she asks, trying her best to sound light-hearted. She doesn’t think she pulls it off. Reggie’s fingers stall for a moment before sifting through her hair once more. Chrissy sighs, the fingers doing their magic and making her feel loved.
“Well, look who decided to wake up.” Reggie is sitting up near her head, shoes off and legs under her, leaning over as she continues to run her fingers through Chrissy’s messy hair. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore. Sorry I fell asleep. I don’t feel as if I have cotton between my ears anymore, so that’s an improvement.”
“Mom?” Ben says from the foot of her bed, catching Chrissy’s attention.
“Ben. Are you okay?” Chrissy asks, her anxiety ratcheting up as she takes in his red eyes and hunched body. “Come here.” She extends her arm, needing to comfort him, and takes his hand, squeezing it. “Talk to me.”
“I’m okay. But, Mom, you could have died.” The pain is clear in his eyes.
“But I didn’t. And neither did you or Reggie. I’d do the same thing a thousand times if it meant keeping you safe.” She hates seeing Ben upset, but he needs to understand. He sniffles, barely holding it together. “I’m sorry I scared you, kid.”
“I knew I’d be okay. I was wearing the pendant.” He’s trembling, and she knows he’s trying hard to be strong, to not cry in front of anyone.
“Ben,” Chrissy says. His shadowed eyes are weighed down by events he’d only seen in video games and movies. As preposterous and unbelievable as the shooting was, it happened, and now he knows how dangerous life can be and how desperate a person can become. Her heart aches. A part of his innocence has been stripped away. “It’s okay to be afraid. A brave person acts even when afraid. And it’s okay to cry. It means you feel deeply, and you should never be ashamed of that.”
As if she’s said the magic words, tears fall down his face, faster and faster. He burrows into the crook of her neck, and Chrissy holds him close as Reggie wraps her arms around them both.
Once his sobs lessen to sniffles, Chrissy’s attention turns to the rest of the people in the room. Her eyes connect with Cathy, David, and Hawk.
“Well, well, looks like Sleeping Beauty has awakened,” Hawk says lightly as he steps forward.
Taking a deep breath, Chrissy releases the two most important people in her world and shoots a smile at her future boss. “So I have.” Noticing the blinds are raised and light is shining through the windows, she asks, “Is it Christmas Eve?”
Ben nods. She can tell he feels better, and she wonders whether he had let himself cry at all since the shooting.
“Oh, kid. I’m sorry. If they let me out of here today, I’m sure we can still find a tree. You’ll have to do most of the decorating, though.” Chrissy frowns. Over the years she’s worked hard to make Christmas special for him.
Before he can say anything, t
he doctor enters the room. He’s about six feet tall with closely cropped salt and pepper hair. He has bags under his eyes and dry skin. Chrissy wonders whether he ever smiles. Everyone steps out except Reggie. Ben wants to stay, but Chrissy’s afraid whatever the doctor says might upset him. The doctor checks her, informing her of the various injuries and the expected recuperation time as he removes the IV.
“We used Dermabond on the deeper lacerations on your right shoulder and right calf. I’ll want you back in seven days to check them. Also, you fractured two ribs on your left side. Although this may sound counterintuitive, some people prefer to lie on the same side as the broken ribs so as to prohibit movement while asleep. You’ll want to do some deep breathing exercises to deter contracting any respiratory ailments. Ice your ribs every few hours for the next couple of days before spacing it out to three times a day. More if they’re swollen. I’ll prescribe some oral pain medication, and you’re on bed rest for the week. It can take up to six weeks for ribs to completely heal, but you can return to work in three, provided you rest beforehand and avoid any strenuous activities. It’s a good idea to have someone help you with getting around. You may not feel it, yet, but your body’s experienced a traumatic event. You’ll be tired, sore, and weak.”
“I’ll take responsibility for her and make sure she rests,” Reggie volunteers, her fingers on the nape of Chrissy’s neck, rubbing little circles. The doctor gives a brisk nod.
“I’ll get the paperwork ready, including information on what to look for if the ribs shift, and the nurse will bring the documents in for signatures. It’ll take about an hour.” After he leaves, Reggie wraps an arm around Chrissy’s shoulders. She drops her head against Reggie’s side with a sigh. She feels safe and loved. Everyone returns to the room, and Chrissy does her best to look alert.
“Hey, champ. You’re making all of us look like wimps, charging in and saving the day,” David jokes, a hand on her knee.
“I’m sure others would have acted the same way I did. I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time.”
“Lucky,” Reggie sneers. Chrissy ignores it, knowing Reggie’s dealing with how afraid she was for her.
“Well, we’re glad you’re okay.” Cathy leans in, kissing her on her forehead.
“Thanks,” Chrissy says, a slight smile on her face.
“Of course, you’re on paid medical leave. Take the full six weeks, if needed. Rest, recover, and return when you’re ready. Your job will be waiting for you,” Hawk says.
“That’s awfully kind of you, Mr. Hawk—” Chrissy begins.
“None of that,” he interrupts, wagging his finger. “If you hadn’t taken on the role of hero, who knows how many more that madman would have hurt. As it is, we have dozens who were injured and five people recovering from bullet wounds. You are the bravest person I’ve ever met, and I will make sure everyone is aware of that fact. Erin sends her best wishes for a speedy recovery.” He pulls on his coat. “Reggie, I’ll talk to you soon.” With a nod toward the Freedmans, he leaves the room.
“Well, we’ll let you get some rest. Please let me know if you need anything, anything at all,” Cathy says. “And Merry Christmas, to all three of you. At least you’ll be together.”
“See you later, hero,” David teases, nodding at Reggie and clapping his hand on Ben’s shoulder before leaving.
A silence falls on them. It’s comforting. She feels horrible for ruining Reggie’s Christmas, though. “Reggie, you don’t have to take care of me. I know you need to get ready for tomorrow’s dinner, and all I need to do is rest.”
Reggie shakes her head. “I want to. You and Ben don’t need to be by yourselves. I have plenty of room, and you’ll get the benefit of eating the feast I’m preparing.” Not wanting to impose, Chrissy wrestles with whether to accept Reggie’s offer.
“Mom, how can you say no to her cooking? Food’s your greatest weakness. Besides, I’d feel better knowing someone will be helping us over the next few days.” Ben is pulling out all the stops, puppy-dog eyes at their widest.
Sighing, Chrissy knows she’ll give in. She wants to spend time with Reggie. On the other hand, she thought her next time at Reggie’s brownstone would be after a date or as the result of a more sensual offer. She doesn’t want to be a burden.
“Christina, please let me do this. I need to be able to see with my own eyes that you’re okay. Safe. Recovering. It will give me peace of mind. And I want to spend the holidays with you and Ben. No one could compel me to do it if I were opposed.”
Chrissy’s heart warms. “Thank you, Reggie. We’ll have to arrange to get the Christmas presents from my apartment.” Remembering she’d brought Reggie’s present to work, Chrissy asks Ben, “Do you have my purse?” She can see he understands what she’s really asking.
“Yup. Nice and safe.” He grins, and she returns it.
“I can go to your apartment with Ben now and get the presents and some clothes for you,” Reggie volunteers. “Is there anything else you want from there? A stuffed bear? Fuzzy socks?”
Reggie’s playing with her. “No, no. If I need some cuddle time, I have you.” They beam at each other, and Chrissy loves the fact they’ve revealed their feelings for each other, loves having the privilege of expressing them. Last week, Chrissy told Ben about Reggie arranging for her to switch into Hawk’s division so they can date. If the way he jumped around the apartment was any indication, he was happy to hear the news.
“We’ll grab some food on the way back.” Chrissy happily accepts the chaste kiss Reggie delivers before she moves to retrieve her coat and purse. “The police will probably be by soon to take your statement. I know they’ve been interviewing people since yesterday.”
“Okay. Hopefully they’ll come sooner rather than later so I can get it over with.” Chrissy sighs. She’s not looking forward to reliving yesterday’s events.
“Do you want me to stay?” Reggie gives her a concerned look.
“No. I’ll be fine. I promise.”
As they move toward the door, Ben says, “I didn’t think the hospital food was that bad.” He shrugs and shoots a teasing look at Chrissy. “Of course, I’m used to Mom’s cooking.”
Guffawing, Chrissy ends up coughing and waving them away as they turn toward her. “Oh, jeez. That hurts. On so many levels. Get going, you two, so you can get back here quicker.” Once they leave, Chrissy melts into the bed. Although she won’t admit it, she’s worn out from talking.
She closes her eyes and falls into a light sleep. Lethargic and achy, Chrissy hears the door open. An hour has passed. It takes a moment to focus on the two people standing by the door.
A middle-aged, slim man with a crew cut and chiseled features clears his throat. “We’re sorry to intrude. I’m Officer Limner, and this is Detective Oliver. Is now a good time to take your statement concerning yesterday’s events?”
“Yeah, sure,” Chrissy answers, struggling to wake up. “Go ahead and ask your questions. I’m ready.”
“So, Ms. Kramer, we’ve spoken to people at your firm, including Attorney Esposito, and we have a good idea of what happened. Please tell us what you saw and heard yesterday and how you reacted,” says Detective Oliver, a short, stout man with a receding hairline and sharp eyes.
“Right. I was leaving the restroom when I heard screaming and gunshots. I saw Frank Hogan heading toward Reggie’s office.” Chrissy can hear the screams as if it was happening all over again, and her breathing picks up. She clutches at the blanket, staring at her white knuckles. We’re safe. I stopped him. It’s okay. She thinks those words several times before she continues. “I ran down a parallel hallway, pulled my son, who was spending time at the office while on winter break, into Reggie’s office, and told them to hide under Reggie’s desk. I turned off the lights, closed the door, and sat down at my desk as he reached me.”
As that moment washes over her, Chrissy’s chest tightens. She places her hand over her sternum and takes a deep breath. “He demanded to kn
ow where Reggie was, and I stalled him, offered to help him. He had that rifle in my face, and I tackled him before he shot me and went into Reggie’s office. I aimed for his waist, and we bounced. I held on and pulled the rifle out of his hands, hitting him on the chin with the butt to knock him out. I was in a lot of pain, and I passed out after help arrived.”
“All right. What exactly did he say once he reached you?” Officer Limner asks.
Struggling to recall the details, Chrissy repeats their brief conversation.
“Okay. Anything else you think will help?” Detective Oliver asks.
“His case ended last week. Reggie’s been trying to find some legal grounds to appeal the decision. It was a pro bono case.”
“Yes. Attorney Esposito mentioned that when we spoke to her last night. Here’s my card. If you think of anything else, please feel free to contact me.” The detective hands her his card and steps back.
“Thanks. Is he in jail now?” Chrissy asks, a chill making its way down her spine.
“Yes,” Officer Limner says. “He was booked last night and will spend the weekend in jail before he’s arraigned on Monday. We’ll recommend that he not be released on bail since he’s a danger to the public. He’ll be charged with attempted murder, several counts of assault with a deadly weapon, assault and battery, possession of a large capacity firearm and feeding device, threats, and whatever else we can throw in there so he remains locked up.”
Feeling better, Chrissy thanks them, and they leave. Remembering what the doctor said about breathing deeply, she breathes in, holds it, and exhales. Four more times she repeats the process, gritting her teeth at how sore her ribs feel. She adjusts the bed to sit up and, noticing her cell phone on the side table, twists to pick it up.
“Mother-fucker!” she shouts as a sharp pain overwhelms her. Taking several shallow breaths, Chrissy keeps her eyes screwed shut. She holds her hand over her aching ribs, thankful she didn’t have an audience for that stupid move.
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