by Karen Renee
The young officer looked at Lydia. “Do you keep your surveillance footage very long, Ms...?”
Lydia smiled. “Powers. Lydia Powers, and I think it will still be available. My understanding is that it goes to a corporate server, but I will get word to them that we need this footage.”
The officer handed Lydia his card and I began to feel awkward. The moment was broken when a nurse came in to remove my I.V.
LYDIA TREATED ME LIKE an old woman as we trudged inside the Merit Health E.R. waiting room. She insisted I hang onto her forearm, and she walked at a turtle’s pace.
Stephanie saw us and sped over to me. “Thank goodness you’re all right! We didn’t know which hospital they sent you to, or I’d have been there.”
“Whitehall, you’ve been holding out on me. You did not tell me his friends were all hot as hell.”
Stephanie gave her a smirk. “I can introduce you, but you can’t leave our girl here stranded. I was at work when I heard, and I rode my bike today. My guess is that a ride on a bike with Kenzie’s wound is a bad idea.”
“I would never leave her stranded, though—”
I interrupted. “How is he? Have they said? What’s going on?”
My questions came out with more tone than I had intended and I realized how hungry I was.
Lydia patted my arm. “Calm down, Kenzie.”
I gave her a look. “I need to sit down while someone tells me what’s happening to the man I love. A man who’s only gonna be more superstitious about those three words since twelve hours after I said them to him, he gets shot!”
They both gave me their widest eyes.
I hung my head a little. “And, I’m a wee bit hangry.”
A warm, heavy arm rested on my shoulders and guided me away from Stephanie and Lydia. From the corner of my eye, I saw it was Roman leading me away.
“He’s in surgery, Kenzie. That’s as much as they’ve told us, well, Sam, his father. But still, that’s what we know. As for food, a prospect is on his way to Arby’s. Tell me what you want, I’ll make sure you get it,” he said in a low, almost gravelly, voice.
A couple minutes later, he ended a call with the prospect who now had my order at the top of his list.
“Thanks,” I whispered.
His light brown eyes were different from the first time I’d met him, and I realized his worry and concern was right there for anyone to see. Unlike the other Riot MC brothers, he wasn’t shutting down or putting up a front. He nodded.
I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. “He’s lucky to have you guys.”
His chin dipped, but it wasn’t agreement. “You’re wrong. We’re lucky to have him.”
The tears I’d been fighting overpowered me. At the sight of them streaming down my face, Roman pulled me into a sideways hug.
I heard footsteps shuffle up to us, and felt someone else’s body heat next to me. “My boy’s a fighter, Kenzie. Don’t you think about anything but that. You hear me?”
Roman let go of me when I straightened. “He’s going to blame me,” I whispered to Sam.
His eyes narrowed. “How the hell d’you figure that?”
“He doesn’t tell you... or anyone else, that he loves them.”
Sam gave me an assessing look, and Roman sauntered to the other side of the waiting area.
I shook my head and told Sam about our argument. How I thought he was just superstitious.
As I spoke, Sam’s lips pressed together in a firm line. After a moment he gave some short nods, then looked at me. “I nearly forgot about that shit. Hell, I haven’t even called his mother. Know I should, but can’t bring myself to do it. Maybe I’m selfish, but a woman who can ghost her son for twenty fuckin’ years doesn’t deserve the chance to ride in when he’s at his lowest.”
I didn’t have a response for that.
“You still haven’t told me why he’s gonna blame you.”
“Because I said I love him.”
His meaty hand wrapped around the back of my neck. “Listen to me. He says anything like that, tries to push you away because of that, I will personally kick his ass.”
I gave him a watery smile.
“He tell you what I said to him a few weeks back? What am I talking about? Of course he didn’t. I called him while he was at your place, but gettin’ somethin’ out of his truck. He couldn’t decide if he should tell you the worst about him –and he said any other woman it wouldn’t matter.” He gave me a serious look. “I told him he needed to fight for a woman who matters and nothing came from lying to the woman he loves.”
I shook my head. “He doesn’t say those things, though.”
Sam shook his head. “Almost what he said, too. ‘I didn’t say I love her, Dad.’ Except as I pointed out to him, love is the reward if he fights for what matters.”
With a feeble nod, I said, “Those are wise words.”
He lowered his voice. “He’s not superstitious. More like he’s super-cautious. Wanted me to think there are three hearts at stake with you two, but that’s a cop-out whether he realizes it or not.”
I tilted my head. “How do you figure?”
“That gives him an out. Rather than possibly hurt your little girl, he wanted to cut you loose. But the truth of it is that as long as you both are careful with each other’s hearts, your little girl’s heart is just a bonus. Right?”
“Right,” I said, smiling.
“Vaillant?” a man in scrubs called out from the mouth of the hallway.
Sam stood up, and reflexively I stood too. A wave of light-headedness hit me, but I powered past it. Only Sam noticed, and wrapped his arm around my shoulders.
The doctor met us halfway. “Your son is very fortunate. We’ve removed the bullet and re-inflated his lung. The bullet hit a rib, which deflected it into the lung. He has a broken rib, but luckily without nicking any arteries.”
“Can I see him?” Sam asked.
“He’s being moved to intensive care. I don’t expect him to be awake until morning, but you may visit him. You can head to the I.C.U. waiting area and a nurse will let you know when you can see him.” The doctor left, and I expected all of us to move to the other waiting area.
From the opposite end of the hall, Detective Tovar walked our way, and the vibe of the lobby went tense.
To my surprise, Har flanked my opposite side. “Play it cool,” he muttered.
Tovar approached me. “Mrs. Whitehall, you seem to like making waves.”
I inhaled deep, but Har’s finger stroked my wrist and I remembered his instructions.
With a shake of my head, I said, “I don’t understand.”
“You’ve falsely accused Truman Strickland of being responsible for Mr. Vaillant’s shooting.”
Even with Har’s warning in mind, I couldn’t do it.
“I think I’d recall who shot me and Mr. Vaillant. It isn’t a false accusation, detective. Isn’t it your job to investigate these matters? It isn’t up to you to say if I’ve falsely accused someone or not. My man is in there,” I swung an arm out in the direction the doctor went. “Fighting for his life, and you’ve got time to argue with me rather than investigate whether or not Strickland did this?”
“You were shot?” he asked, skeptically.
I closed my eyes. I’d feel sorry for his wife, but something about this exchange told me he wasn’t married. Of everything I said, his take-away was that I got shot... What was with that?
“Yes. Seeing as you know about my statement, I would think you’d know that, Detective Tovar. Or did you get your information in some other way?”
It was at this moment I felt the strange tension in the room. It wasn’t that I hadn’t heeded Har’s warning. In fact, I saw Roman edging further down the corridor, but his eyes were dancing over my face, his lips pressed together as though fighting a smile. Tovar’s body, however, had gone tight. Then I noticed the stocky, well-built African-American man standing behind Detective Tovar. Light glinted off the badge hooked to the man�
�s belt, and I realized he must be Tovar’s partner.
“Gotta say, Raul, I’m wondering the same thing myself,” the man said.
Detective Tovar looked over his shoulder. “Thought you were on vacation?”
“Good to see you, Detective Dennizen.” Both detectives gave Har a look that called him on his lie.
“Raul, let’s go. Nurse tells me we can’t talk to him, and he isn’t likely to wake until morning.”
“I don’t know, Travis. I bet Vaillant told his woman to point the finger at Strickland. For all we know one of these thugs did it, and it’s a ploy to get Strickland to leave them alone.”
I heard the shuffling of many pairs of feet behind us.
Without missing a beat, Har said, “We’d never shoot a woman, Tovar. And more, we’d never willingly shoot a brother. Even if I ignore the offensiveness of your accusation, it doesn’t explain why you think Strickland’s so squeaky-clean. He’s been following my brother, following his woman, and approached her ex-husband for no other reason than to split them up. The man’s got a vendetta, and he’s gone over the edge.”
“Shift and deflect,” Tovar sneered.
I looked up at Brute’s father. “Doesn’t he mean, ‘serve and protect’?”
Sam looked down at me, his lips pressed into a hard line, but the twinkle in his eye told me he liked my attitude. As did someone behind us, but I would never know which brother audibly choked on his laughter.
“Mrs. Whitehall—”
“It’s ‘Ms,’ Detective.”
He ignored me. “Watch yourself.”
Tovar turned on his heel and hurried down the hall, but Detective Dennizen pulled out a card and handed it my way. “If you should see Mr. Strickland again, call 911, but be sure to let me know right after.”
As soon as Dennizen was well enough away, Sam gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I looked up at him and he was smiling huge. “If you aren’t made for my son, then no woman is.”
I inhaled sharply. “That’s the nicest thing—”
“Stop right there. Let’s get up to the I.C.U. ward.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
A Time to Call-In Sick
Brute
His head felt fuzzy when he woke up. He heard faint beeping. A rough hand grabbed his and he opened his eyes to see his dad seated next to him.
“Don’t talk. Save your energy.”
He closed his eyes. Sleep threatened to pull him under, but panic invaded his mind. He remembered a gun had been pointed at both of them. He forced his eyes open. “Kenzie?” he croaked.
“Right outside. They’re only letting in one visitor at a time, so I leave, she’ll be in.”
“Not hurt?”
“Kenzie?” Dad asked, then his lips went thin.
Brute squeezed his hand.
“Son, she’s fine. She was grazed by a bullet, but she’s been stitched up and waiting to hear about you.”
He closed his eyes. His mind wandered down the familiar road of how much better her life would be if he’d never entered it.
Dad’s other hand wrapped around his. “I can see your thoughts clear as day on your face. Stop that. You can’t blame yourself for the shit that happened to you both. That’s on Strickland. Hell, when the detective showed up in the waiting room, I told her flat-out she’s made for you.”
He forced his eyes open. “What?” he wheezed.
Dad chuckled. “You heard me. And I hear she’s told you she loves you. She’s worried sick you’re gonna use that to push her away.”
His eyes slid to the side. The idea wasn’t half bad.
“Boy! You do that, I will kick your ass for her.”
He glared at Dad.
“Gimme all the looks you want. She’s a good woman, and they are damn hard to come by.”
“Yeah,” he whispered.
“She loves your ass, so that makes her one in a million.”
Dad was not wrong about that. He couldn’t imagine a world without her in it.
“I didn’t call your momma. Feel guilty as hell about that, but...” he shook his head. “I figured she’d storm in here making drama, but she can’t be bothered to stick by when there’s no drama, well, who needs her?”
“Right.”
Dad patted his hand. “All right. I’m gonna let the nurse know you’re awake. Then, Kenzie will be in.”
He fought to stay awake, but his eyelids were too heavy.
Something tickled his hand. He looked down to see Kenzie’s head bowed over his arm. Her hair rested on his arm, the strands causing the tickling.
“Baby,” he whispered.
She jerked her head up. Her eyes were bloodshot and shiny.
“Don’t cry,” he said.
Her lips tipped up. “It’s not that simple, honey.”
“It is.”
“I’ll try. I just can’t tell you how grateful I am that you’re okay. You have a ton of people out there who care about you, Brute.”
“Only one I care about is right here,” he said.
She did a long blink while her lip trembled. “Oh my God! You can’t say things like that and expect me not to cry. That is the sweetest thing anyone -besides Aubrey- has ever said to me.”
He moved his hand to lift her hair, but the small movement caused intense pain to radiate along his collar bone making him hiss.
She sat up straight. “What’s wrong? Do you need the nurse.”
“No, Zee. Just moved wrong.”
Her eyebrow arched. “Is that what we’re going to call it? ‘Moved wrong’? You’re in pain, I’ll—”
“No. I moved too fast. Are you sure you’re all right? Flesh wounds hurt like hell, too, Zee.”
Her blue eyes narrowed. “How would you know what it feels like?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m stitched up. Lydia drove me here since they gave me some heavy-duty pain meds. Roman told a prospect to bring me food, so I’ve eaten. I’m good.”
“And you answered questions about the shooting already?”
She nodded. “Then freaking Tovar dropped by. I tell you, something isn’t right with that man, either. And I know that makes me sound like I’m paranoid, but his partner seems as steady as they come.”
He blinked. “Dennizen was there?”
She nodded. “I should let you rest, honey. The sooner they move you to a regular room, the sooner you can get out of this place.”
“Kiss me.”
She leaned over, giving him the most delicate kiss he’d ever received.
As she backed away, he whispered, “I love you, too, Zee.”
She plopped back down in the chair, her hands to her face. “Now I’m a mess again.” She looked up from her hands. “You get better, mister. I can’t give you the kiss you deserve after admitting you love me. So, work on that, will ya?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, smiling.
THINGS BLURRED AFTER that. Har came in to visit, but it was after a nurse put something in his I.V. bag making his mind fuzzy.
There were no windows in his room, but when he woke up a nurse told him it was Sunday mid-morning. She also said he would be moved out of the Intensive Care Unit.
Not long after they transferred him, a uniform officer came in to ask him questions about the shooting. He had a weathered look to his face, and Brute guessed he was in his fifties.
“Did you know your assailant?”
“Truman Strickland shot me. But I don’t know him the way you mean.”
“Any idea why he would shoot you?”
“He’s been following me for weeks. Seems to think I have something to do with his brother’s disappearance.”
“Do you?”
“No. I told him to talk to Detective Dennizen.”
The officer made a note, then looked at him. “He wasn’t involved with Ms. Whitehall, was he? Jealous ex?”
Harsh exhaling caused sharp pain in his upper chest, he’d learned that fast. Rather than huff at the man’
s question, he glared. “No. Though he did approach her ex-husband about her dating me. I was his focus, or causing me problems was his focus. Whatever.”
The officer nodded and closed his notepad. “We have an APB out for Strickland. If you see him again, call 911.”
Kenzie
NOT THAT I NEEDED FURTHER proof of Caleb’s self-absorbed nature, but when I picked up Aubrey late on Sunday afternoon, he didn’t notice my slower gait or paler than normal complexion. I had Aubrey until Saturday because Caleb’s office was closed the last two weeks of the year, which meant Caleb pulled longer hours leading up to the forced time off.
My girl didn’t miss a beat though, and launched an interrogation as soon as I settled into the car. I downplayed how I got hurt, but stupidly let my mouth get away from me. Once I mentioned Brute was in the hospital for the next day or two, she insisted on going to see him.
We lucked out, since there weren’t any nurses milling about when I hustled Aubrey into Brute’s new room. His eyes were closed and he looked like he was sleeping, so I put my finger over my lips when I looked at Aubrey. She nodded.
We’d brought him some food. Quietly, I put the bag down.
While I did that, Aubrey had planted herself in the chair next to his bed. I looked down at her wanting to rebuke her, but she looked up at me with wide eyes.
“Mommy, can I sing him ‘If the Stars Were Mine’? It might make him feel better.”
I turned my head at the sudden piercing sensation in my heart. Her caring, sensitive ways always surprised me while filling me with pride simultaneously.
“Sure, honey,” I whispered, fighting tears.
She put her little hand on top of his and sang. While the song was beautiful and soothing, I never realized Aubrey knew all the words. Hearing her sing it to him, I felt so much love for her, and for Brute. A strange feeling hit me, and I noticed Brute had his eyes open.
His eyes were rapt on Aubrey and filled with a look that at first I thought was shame, but was actually fondness mixed with reverence.
He caught my eyes and his lips tipped up.
Aubrey finished the song, and I saw Brute turn his hand over to grab hers. “Darlin’, I’m gonna be a-okay. So, if you go puttin’ stars in a jar for me, I’m either gonna give them to you or your mommy.”