Trust

by Riley Edwards

  The kids greeted me at the door with smiles and exuberance that only children possess, pulling the first ounce of happiness from me since this morning.

  “Hi, Auntie Harper. Mama got me new hair bands. Do you want to see them?” Melody bounced in excitement, barely giving me enough room to walk in the door.

  “Geez, Melly, let her in the door. Do you need help?” JJ asked.

  “Thank you, JJ.” I smiled down at the young man and handed him a bag. He was becoming more and more like Mac and Reid every day—thoughtful and considerate. “And yes, Melly, I’d love to see your new hair bows after dinner.”

  “Okay.” Melody hopped ahead of us.

  “Mom said she’d be right down,” JJ informed me and led us into the kitchen. “She’s on the phone.”

  Oh, God. I hoped she was talking to Reid. If I didn’t hear something new soon, I was going to track them down myself.

  “Hey,” Ava said as she joined us in the kitchen.

  “Everything okay?” I quickly asked.

  “Yes. That was Suzie. She’s still getting the hang of the produce order. Running the café is harder than she thought.”

  Suzie had been doing a great job since she took over the day-to-day operations of the café, but helping with the back-end part of owning a restaurant and having to do it by yourself was very different.

  “Does she need more help?” I asked and passed out the takeout containers.

  “No, she’s figuring it out and Michael is helping a lot. I think he’s going to take an early retirement.”

  Suzie’s husband, Michael, was a police officer, too. He didn’t work at Mac’s station anymore but he had worked with both Mac and Jacob early in his career.

  “Any reason why?” I asked. Michael was a little older than Mac but I didn’t think he was anywhere near the age of retirement.

  “Michael says that there’s a different feel around the city. He doesn’t enjoy being a cop anymore. He also mentioned that morale among the cops, especially the ones that have been there a while, is at an all-time low.”

  “Has Mac said anything about it?” I asked Ava. I tried to remember if he’d said anything to me about problems at the station, but I couldn’t remember if he had.

  “Not to me. Reid said there were rumors floating around about some trouble with the chief, but he didn’t elaborate. Then there’s Nicole Brown. She’s been missing like three-ish weeks now. There used to be a code that even a criminal lived by—no families. But not anymore. I’m happy Michael is getting out.”

  “Mac did talk to me about Nicole. How scary. I can’t believe she hasn’t been found yet.”

  The kids happily dug into their food. Melly giggled at something her brother said and I realized how desperately I wanted that. I wanted kids sitting around the dinner table laughing. I wanted bedtimes and stories. I wanted to see Mac with a pretty little girl and a handsome boy. I wanted to watch Mac as he taught our children to grow up and be mini versions of himself.

  “You okay? You totally spaced out there for a minute,” Ava whispered.

  “Yea. No. I don’t know. I don’t like how things were left with Mac before he was called out. He’s still really mad at me. He wouldn’t budge; just kept saying we were done.”

  “Give him a minute, he’s stubborn and hotheaded. He loves you, I know he does. There’s no way you two are done.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “I know I am. Let’s go sit with the kids,” she suggested.

  The rest of dinner was spent with JJ and Melly entertaining us with their stories from school. JJ was quite the ladies’ man. Apparently, four girls from his class had tried to kiss him on the playground, which he declared was gross. Melly had a new best friend. A boy named Leon. Leon was short for some name she couldn’t remember but promised it was the coolest name ever and she was naming her next boy doll after him.

  The kids had been dismissed from the table to go watch TV, the kitchen had been cleaned, and Ava was making a fresh pot of coffee. Probably sensing I wasn’t leaving anytime soon and she’d need the caffeine to stay awake and entertain my crazy paranoia. I was staring out the big window from the breakfast nook enjoying the view of the Bay Bridge lit up when all the fine hairs at the base of my neck started to tingle.

  You know when you get a sixth sense, something that you can’t explain but you know to be true? That’s what was happening. The pain in my chest sharpened and I thought I might be sick.

  “Mom. The TV said there was a police officer shot!” JJ yelled from the kitchen.

  The clatter of something hitting the floor made me turn. Ava was staring at me, unmoving.

  “Daddy says to turn the channel. We’re not allowed to watch that,” Melly said.

  “Stop, Melody,” JJ demanded and after a beat, he continued, “I think I saw Dad.”

  That got Ava moving. She ran into the living room, leaving me standing in the nook. I rubbed the ache in my chest and I knew.

  Ava’s phone rang and I heard her start to cry. There was a series of short clipped answers before she came back into the kitchen.

  “Harper.”

  I didn’t answer her.

  “Honey, we have to go.”

  I still couldn’t find my voice.

  “It’s Mac. He’s been shot.”

  I knew.

  The pain intensified as my own heart broke. I was losing him.

  26

  the unknown

  Reid

  The coppery smell of blood was thick in the back of the ambulance, making me want to gag, but that’s not what had my attention. It was her small, able hands. The purple latex gloves she wore were covered in Mac’s blood. The contrast was morbid. She cleaned and packed his wound with practiced efficiency. Slow and methodical as if Mac’s life wasn’t literally in her hands. As soon as Mac was loaded into the back of the rig, the female medic removed the mask she’d been using to force air into his lungs, replacing it with something akin to a long-handled plastic cooking spoon she inserted down Mac’s throat. I was now sitting beside him, watching his blood spill faster than she could stop it.

  I heard the woman utter a small curse under her breath as she ripped open another sterile package of gauze.

  “You can talk to him,” she told me.

  “Huh?”

  “Talk to him,” she semi-repeated. This time it wasn’t a suggestion, it was more a demand.

  Fuck. What was there to say? Why did you step in front of me? Thanks for taking a bullet for me? What the hell were you thinking? What was I going to tell Ava? Harper?

  Jesus Christ!

  There was nothing to say. Should I yell at him not to die? Beg him to hold on? All the words were caught in my throat as I prayed the requests I couldn’t verbalize.

  A monitor beeped, making me flinch as I blinked the tears from my eyes. That should be me. I should be the one dying on the gurney, not Mac.

  “Thank you,” I whispered to Mac. “Hold tight, brother, we’re almost there. You’ll be patched up in no time.”

  “This is Galloway, Unit 15, en route to San Francisco General, thirty-nine-year-old male, GSW to chest, no exit wound observed. LMA inserted, patient is unconscious, hypovolemic shock, ETA three minutes.”

  “Three minutes, Mac, you hold on. Please, God, brother, hold on.”

  “He’s doing great,” Galloway told me, still holding pressure on Mac’s chest.

  “He doesn’t look great,” I muttered.

  “He’s alive. That’s what matters right now. One minute, one step at a time.”

  One minute at a time. I wasn’t sure if I could do that, not when each second felt like an eternity. With each rotation of the ambulance’s tires, it felt like we were inching toward Mac’s death.

  “Have you done this before?” she asked.

  “Huh?”

  “Ridden in the back of a rig?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you understand what’s going to happen when we will pull in and the doors
open? The team will be waiting for us. Get out, step aside, and answer any questions you can. If you don’t know, say you don’t know.”

  Before I could remind her I knew what was going to happen, the doors to the ambulance were thrown open and all hell broke loose. Mac was pulled from the back, the wheels of the gurney magically appearing. Galloway was out and the team of doctors were on the move.

  I jumped out and had to hurry to catch up. Galloway was getting the doctors up to speed on Mac’s condition, her partner coming up to meet us while adding in details.

  A man who looked like he was in need of a haircut shook my arm to get my attention. “Are you with him? Do you know him well?”

  “Um, yeah. He’s a friend,” I answered, still in a daze.

  “Great. I’m Dr. Matthews, the anesthesiologist. Is he allergic to anything?”

  “No—not that I know of.”

  “Any medical conditions? Is he taking any medications, vitamins?”

  “No conditions, no medications, I don’t know about vitamins or supplements.”

  “All right. Thanks,” the doctor said and rushed to Mac’s side.

  “Bed space 1,” an older doctor called as we approached the exam areas in the ER. The gurney was pushed in and came to a stop next to a hospital bed. “On three. One… two… three.”

  A team of nurses and doctors moved Mac to the bed and Galloway quickly pulled the ambulance gurney out of the way.

  “Step out here with me for a moment. Give them some space,” she suggested.

  I followed her a few feet away and watched in a weird disconnected way as the doctors and nurses connected Mac up to so many machines my eyes couldn’t track fast enough.

  “Dr. Matthews is the Chief of Anesthesiology. His reputation is stellar. Dr. Coats is a trauma surgeon that practiced at Maryland’s Shock Trauma for twenty years before coming here. If that was me in there, I’d want Dr. Coats and her team working on me. Your friend is in critical condition, but this is the best place in the city. Is there anyone you need to call?”

  I looked down at Galloway, noting how calm yet assertive she’d been throughout arriving on the scene and pushing me aside, taking over, giving Mac CPR to delivering him here to the hospital. She was competent and reassuring, someone I’d want on my team.

  “Reid?” Her voice pulled me from my thoughts.

  “My team already called my wife. They went to go pick her up. Thank you,” I answered.

  “Good. He’ll be going up in a minute, to the tenth floor for surgery, there’s a waiting room up there.”

  “Thank you for everything, Galloway. You and your partner.”

  “Just doing…”

  “Don’t say that. Not to me. I use that same line when a victim thanks me. You and I both know what it takes out of you. Each call you answer, each new patient, the risk, the unknown. It may be your job, but you give a piece of yourself every time you get in that rig. Thank you for that. Thank you for saving his life.”

  Galloway pursed her lips and looked away. “You’re welcome.”

  “Jen, you ready? We got another call-out,” her partner said as he rushed past us.

  “Damn.”

  “Seems to be a busy night. Go.”

  With a smile and a nod, she was gone.

  JJ

  Mom was crying and hugging Aunt Harper while Dad, Austin, and Dustin kept walking back and forth in front of them. Melly was squeezing my hand so hard it hurt, but I tried not to show it. My sister needed me.

  “Jakey?” she whispered.

  “Yeah.”

  “Can you ask your daddy to make Uncle Mac better?”

  “What do you mean? Dad already explained that Uncle Mac was getting the bullet out and he’s fighting really hard,” I tried to remind her without crying. I was eleven now. Eleven-year-old boys aren’t supposed to cry anymore. But it was really hard.

  “No. Your daddy Jacob in heaven. Please, Jakey. You have to ask him. Mommy says that it’s okay when I talk to my mommy in heaven. But my mommy didn’t know Uncle Mac. Your daddy did. They were like best friends. Your daddy can help him.”

  Mom still took Melly to the cemetery so she could talk to her mom. She was buried next to my dad Jacob. Sometimes I went with them so I could visit with my dad but most the time I let them go alone. Dad says that it’s good that I take care of our girls and know when they need time together. I wasn’t sure what that meant but when they went, me and Dad got time alone. I liked that. I liked when we did cool things.

  “I’ll ask him,” I told her.

  “Thank you, Jakey. I’m so scared.”

  “Me, too.”

  Melly crawled onto my lap and cried into my shoulder. Dad looked at me, his face tight, and he gave me a lift of his chin. He liked that I was taking care of my sister. Uncle Mac had to be okay, I couldn’t lose him, too.

  Ava

  I was trying to be strong but I was failing. Mac had to be okay. The day he came to the house and told me Jacob had been shot was playing on a loop in my head. How Mac looked when I broke down in his arms. How the pain of loss took my breath away and I thought I’d be crippled for the rest of my life. How Mac and Reid put me back together. He had to pull through. Had to!

  Reid

  It’d been five goddamned hours since Mac went back for surgery. A nurse had come out a few hours ago to give us an update. Still in surgery but doing better than expected.

  That was it.

  Melody had fallen asleep in JJ’s lap and had been moved to a bank of chairs where she could comfortably sleep, leaving JJ to sit with Ava and Harper. My boy was trying his best to be brave. He had hugged his sister when she cried and was now holding his mom’s hand with a strength that no boy should have. But, damn, I was proud of him. Mac would be, too.

  Mac.

  “Come here, little man.”

  JJ let go of Ava’s hand and walked to me. I knelt down in front of him and tagged him around the back of his neck, bringing his forehead to mine.

  “Proud of you, son. You’re being brave and strong for our girls, but it’s okay to be worried. I know this is hard on you.”

  JJ didn’t speak right away. This was something he’d started recently. When he had something important to say, he’d stop and think, gathering his thoughts before he spoke.

  “I’m scared.”

  “I know you are. I’m scared, too.”

  “You are?” JJ sounded shocked at my admission.

  “Of course I am.”

  “I don’t want Mac to die. Melly asked me to talk to my dad.” JJ pressed his lips together, then began again. “You know, my dad in heaven, to ask him to help Uncle Mac.” The tears I needed to see started to fall. “I asked him. I’m so scared Uncle Mac is going to die, too.”

  “Son, look at me.” I waited for his tear-filled eyes to look up and continued, “First, you never be ashamed and look away when you’re showing emotion for someone you love. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to yell. It’s okay to be scared. While you’re learning how to grow up and take care of those you love, you remember part of that is you being honest with them, giving them your emotions, showing them how you feel. You’re always safe to give me your pain, Jacob. As for your dad—you never, and I repeat never, be afraid to talk to your dad and ask him for his help. Your dad is a part of you, a part of your mom, and a part of our family. You don’t think I talk to your dad, too?”

  “You do?” JJ asked.

  “Yeah, little man, I do. I talk to your dad all the time. I ask him for guidance in raising you to be the man he would want you to be. I ask him to watch out for you and your mom when you’re away from me. And tonight, I’ve begged your dad to watch over Mac.”

  “I think you’re raising me to be the man he would want me to be. Because I’m learning how to be like you and Uncle Mac. And dad was like you, and Uncle Mac. So, I guess I’m growing up to be like him, too.”

  “Damn right.” I squeezed the back of his neck. “You good, son?”

  �
�I’m good, Dad.”

  “Good. Now go sit back with your mom. I need to talk to Harper.”

  JJ pulled me in for a hug and whispered in my ear, “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you.”

  I pulled all the strength I could from JJ and set out to have a much-needed talk with Harper.

  I’d been putting it off for hours now, but it was time for me to face the music.

  27

  we’re good, brother

  “Image guidance, stat.”

  “Two more units of blood.”

  “I’m in.”

  The voices had stopped and the warmth had returned, pulling Mac back to his unconscious state. The memories of the shooting ran through his subconscious as if he was reliving them in vivid recollection.

  The drive from the Hall of Justice to Chief Brown’s home was spent going over the information Cartwright had given Mac and Reid. Once Cartwright was handed over to the Chief of Special Investigations and his team to be taken to central booking, the two men left to pick up Tom Brown.

  A quick call to Austin told them that the chief was at home. He’d been there for the last hour after a meeting with a local gang leader in a shady part of the city that was rundown and mostly abandoned. It seemed Brown was neither careful nor smart about where he was seen.

  “How do you think this is gonna go?” Reid asked Mac as they made their way across town.

  “Tom Brown is a cocky son-of-a-bitch. He’ll be pissed as shit at the implication of wrongdoing. My guess? He’ll laugh it off, then he’s going to rage and threaten us. His power has gone to his head; he thinks he’s above the law,” Mac mused.

  “That’s my thought, too. He’s going to be a douche and say; do you know who you’re fucking with? Or something equally jacked.”

  Tom Brown answered the door, not looking one bit surprised the men were there. His suit jacket was off, but his shoulder holster was still on and his service weapon on full display.