by T. R. Cupak
“Wait for what? Backup?” He needs to clarify what his last statement means. “Deacon, please tell me you guys didn’t cowboy up?” I hate asking that question, but if that is what they did, this could be bad—really bad.
13
DEACON
The cat is out of the bag, as the saying goes. Why stop now?
“We didn’t wait for a warrant or our team. We were afraid the window to apprehend our suspects was closing, and we would lose those fuckers and the girls they were planning to traffic. Brit, we were in my truck and wearing our street clothes. Go and look at the front panel of my truck. There are bullet holes. I don’t even know how this fuckin’ thing started or if it will start again. It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s going to the yard as evidence.”
The parking lot light is two cars over from my truck. As I stare out the passenger side window, my sister’s reflection speaks louder than any words she could say right now. Shock, anger, sadness, confusion—it’s all there, as clear as the night sky.
I can handle disappointing other people. Hell, I can handle disappointing my parents. But Brit, my sister and best friend, is someone I never want to disappoint. I’m her big brother who protects her. Fucking up this royally at work, in a position of authority, is only going to put doubt in her mind. What we did was beyond stupid. What we did got six people killed and two left in critical condition. There is no coming back from this, not mentally, not career-wise.
Britney’s cell phone rings, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence.
“Syd, is he out of surgery?” Britney’s words come out in one quick breath. “Okay. We’ll be right up.” She hangs up the phone and turns toward me. “Deacon, I know you’re punishing yourself right now and you feel like all is lost, but until you go through whatever the next steps are following something like this, stop. Stop punishing yourself, because Kade needs you. Do you hear me?” Her eyes stay fixed on me while she waits for my response. “I love you, big brother. Nothing will ever change that.” Her words are like a knife twisting in my heart. What Kade and I did was reckless. “Nod or something, D. Let me know you’re hearing me because we need to get back upstairs.”
Finally, I tell her I hear her, and I swing open my door, barely missing the car next to mine. Jumping out of the truck, I slam the door shut and wait for Britney around front. When she passes the front corner panel, she stops, staring in disbelief, so I walk over to her. She’s running her fingers over the blemished metal, moving between each bullet hole, circling them, studying them. Britney’s eyes close, and tears begin to stream down her cheeks.
“Brit?” I take the last two steps in her direction and secure my sister in my arms. “Are you okay?”
“If bullets could penetrate metal like this.” She pulls away and points to a hole. “I can only imagine what it could have done to you and what it has done to Kade.” Britney steps toward me, wrapping her arms around me as I wrap mine around her shoulders. When I feel her body shake as she silently cries, I can’t stop myself from joining her.
“Brit,” a male voice booms across the parking lot. “The doctor needs to speak with Deacon since Kade’s parents aren’t here.” Releasing each other, we turn our attention toward the voice to find Grant standing under the overhang to the entrance of the hospital.
“Coming,” Britney calls back. “Where are Kade’s parents?” she asks as we jog the short distance back to the hospital.
“Vacation in Singapore. I left Beth a voicemail to call me. I didn’t leave any details,” I answer my sister’s question.
We are slightly winded when we make it back inside the hospital and up to the third floor, where everyone is waiting to hear an update on Kade’s condition. Passing through what appears to be more people than when Britney and I went outside, I finally reach the nurses’ station where the surgeon is waiting for me.
“I’m Deacon Winslow, ma’am. I’m Kade’s longtime best friend and partner at LPPD.”
“Deacon, I’m Dr. Robinson. Do you want to talk out here or in private?” the doctor asks.
“Privately.” Britney steps up, answering the doctor’s question.
“And you are?” Dr. Robinson’s attention is now on my sister.
“I’m sorry. I’m Britney Winslow. Deacon’s sister.”
“And Kade’s girlfriend,” I add without thinking. My sister’s smart. She doesn’t even bat an eye at my declaration.
“Right this way.” The doctor turns on her heels and escorts us down the corridor, far enough to be out of earshot. Usually, a doctor would speak with us in the waiting room, but much like the hallway, the waiting room is overflowing with law enforcement and members of the LP fire department standing shoulder to shoulder.
“Officer Beaumont is a fortunate young man. Most GSWs where the heart is concerned are fatal. The bullet that hit Officer Beaumont grazed his left ventricle, which has a thicker wall than the right ventricle. He’s in ICU for now, but we expect him to recover fully.”
Reaching out, I grab the doctor’s hand, vigorously shaking it and thanking her repeatedly for saving my best friend.
“Woah, there cowboy. These hands still need to operate.” Dr. Robinson’s sobriquet of choice sucks the air out of my lungs. I drop her hand and stumble toward the wall, trying to stay upright. Britney tries to catch me before I go down, but I collapse and take her down with me. My head makes a thudding sound when it slams against the hard linoleum floor, my ears begin to ring, and when I attempt to sit up, my sister’s and Dr. Robinson’s voices start to fade away until they are gone.
MY HEAD IS THROBBING as if I went on a bender. It takes a few minutes before I can fully open my eyes and take in my surroundings. Movement close to my feet catches my attention. Straining my neck to look down that direction, I see my mom sitting in a visitor’s chair, leaning forward with her head resting on the bed and her hand holding my shin. Yesterday did happen.
Looking around the rest of my room, I don’t see any sign of my dad or Britney. I have to pee, but I don’t want to disturb my mom. Even as she sleeps, she looks exhausted. Fuck it.
“Mom,” I say with a hushed tone, trying not to frighten her. “Mom,” I repeat a little louder with a wiggle of my left leg. Her eyes slowly open, but when she notices I’m awake, Mom sits upright quickly.
“Deacon, honey, you’re awake. Let me get the nurse.” My mom stands, but before she can walk away, I stop her.
“I have a call button, Mom. How’s Kade?” Abandoning the fact that I need to use the bathroom, I need to know how my partner is doing first. Mom turns back to face me with a somber look in her eyes.
“He’s still asleep. Britney is sitting with him until his parents arrive. We’ve been taking turns. Your father is at the winery. He was here for a couple of hours last night, but I insisted that he go home and get some rest before going to the winery.”
My mother is a saint of a woman, just like Kade’s mom. The only difference, the man my mom married isn’t a first-class asshole like Kade’s father. Don’t get me wrong, it took a while for my dad to forgive me for dropping out of college, but he eventually came around. He doesn’t knock my career choice every chance he gets like Kade’s dad does. Ha! Career. What career?
Robert Winslow is a highly respected man with a heart of gold. He takes care of our family, loves my mother to no end, and he treats everyone who works for him like they’re an extension of our family.
“Where’s my phone?” I need to know what the press is saying about what went down yesterday and how the chief explained it in his press conference. The more knowledge I have will determine how long I still have a badge.
“Sorry, dear. You broke it when you fell.”
“Fuck!” I snap out, causing my mother to jump. “Sorry, Mom. Can you send Britney in here?”
“Sure. I’ll let the nurse know you’re awake when I get your sister.”
Nodding, I watch as my mom leaves the room. Once she’s out the door, I get up a little too fast. The next thing
I know, my feet slide out from under me, and my ass hits the floor, hard.
“Motherfucker!” Struggling to stand, I’m relieved when my sister walks in just in time.
“What the hell are you doing?” She rushes to my side and helps me to my feet.
“Thanks. How’s Kade?” Mom’s answer was too vague. Britney will tell me exactly how he is.
“Stable, but still sleeping. The doctor thinks he’ll wake at some point today. At least that’s what she hopes. He’s not in a coma or anything.”
“Okay. I gotta pee.”
“TMI.” Britney smiles as I shuffle toward the bathroom and close the door.
Now that my bladder has some relief, I wash my hands and splash cold water on my face. Reaching up behind my head, I feel a large lump. Without talking to a nurse or doctor, I’m confident I have a concussion, and that’s why I’m still here. I close my eyes for a split second, and I see the little girl’s innocent face, her eyes shutting as she takes her final breath. The vision is crippling, dropping me to my knees as I wail in agony. Not agony for me, but the pain I feel for the little girl and her mother.
“D, open the door,” Britney’s frantic voice calls to me from the opposite of the door. “Deacon, goddammit. Open the door.” She pounds hard on the hollow metal door, begging me to open it, but it’s like I’m frozen. I want to open the door—I really do—but my body isn’t listening to my brain.
“Mr. Winslow, please open the door,” a calmer female voice calls out to me, but I don’t respond. All I can think about is the mother and her daughter.
I killed a mother and her child. I don’t deserve to be here. I should be dead, not them.
“I killed a mother and her child. I killed a mother and her child. I killed a mother and her child.” Everything has faded around me as my words are stuck on repeat like a bad song. Over and over. “I killed a mother and her child. I killed a mother and her child.”
There are muffled sounds around me, but I can’t focus on what they’re saying because my words are all I hear loud and clear.
14
BRITNEY
“Is he in shock?” I ask the doctor while my mother’s hand is clenched around my wrist, cutting off my blood circulation as we wait for some sort of explanation.
“Delayed shock. PTSD. It could be one or both. Or it could be something else altogether. I’ll give him something to calm him until psych can come to evaluate him properly.”
“Calm him? He’s already calm. He’s just stuck on repeat,” I state, pointing out the obvious. “And psych? My brother is not crazy.” Mom’s hand releases my wrist, and she starts to rub my back. Rubbing my back was something she used to do to calm me when I came home from college and would have panic attacks because of what had happened to me.
“Britney, dear, I don’t think the doctor is saying your brother is crazy. He’s saying that they need to make the right diagnosis so they can treat him properly. Is that correct, Dr. MacAfee?”
“Yes, a proper diagnosis is what we need,” he answers. “The nurse will be in shortly to get your son’s IV going and administer the medication.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Dr. MacAfee leaves Mom and me alone. As soon as the door shuts, my mom turns to me with a confused look on her face and asks me the one question I don’t want to answer
“Who’s your brother talking about?”
“When Deacon is better, we’ll have to ask him.” Omitting what I know isn’t exactly lying, and it’s not my place to rat out Kade and my brother.
As of right now, the DEA and FBI have taken point dealing with the media. They’ve stated that my brother and Kade were working with them to help catch the FBI’s most wanted cartel gang members and acted under their instructions. They made it known that Deacon and Kade saved two underage girls from a sex trafficking ring, but there was no mention of the mother and little girl.
Leaving my mom and brother, I head upstairs to Kade’s room. Shortly after Deacon fainted, Kade’s surgeon assured me that our names would be on Kade’s approved visitor list. When I reach the ICU nurses’ station, I show a nurse my identification and ask how Kade is doing. She informs me that he’s breathing on his own, which is promising because it means there is no tube down his throat, but he’s still asleep from the anesthesia. The nurse then tells me that I can go on into his room.
When I enter Kade’s room, I release a sigh of relief when I see him with my own eyes. He’s not attached to a breathing apparatus, but he still has an IV, cords, and other machines monitoring him. Stepping up to his bedside, I run the back of my hand softly down his cheek, treasuring each breath he takes. He’s only hours out of surgery, but Kade looks like he’s already on the right path to a full recovery.
Since Kade is sleeping, I take advantage of this time and use his restroom. When I finish washing my hands, I open the door and overhear two men talking in the hall. One mentions that the mother who died from her gunshot wound was undocumented, and they are still waiting to hear about the daughter. They can’t find information on her or if the father is in her life. Is that how they plan to sweep their deaths under the rug? If the mother is here illegally, won’t anyone ask questions?
So far, nothing has been mentioned about Deacon and Kade’s insubordination. But that will be taken care of in-house during their IA. For now, while they’re both in the hospital, no one can talk to them. Kade is unconscious, and my brother is in the fast lane to the looney bin—or so it seems.
I tiptoe closer to the door and peek through the crack. I recognize the chief of police and my brother’s sergeant as the two men begin their trek toward the elevators. I hate leaving Kade because I don’t want him to wake up alone, but I have a strong feeling they’re going to Deacon’s room next, so once they board the elevator, I step out of Kade’s room and quickly head back to my brother’s by taking the stairs. I don’t know how I do it, but I make it back to Deacon before his chief and sergeant.
Come to find out, Chief Salazar and Sergeant Black returned to the hospital to check in on how their officers are doing. Although I’m already in the know, they proceed to give my mom and me peace of mind that the bad guys are no threat and that if we need anything, give them a call.
Tension has me wound so tight; there is no way I will be able to relax. Sydnee will be by at some point with my anxiety medication, a change of clothes for me, and my toiletry case. With all the chaos, it was a while before I realized Deacon broke his phone. But once I did see the shattered piece of technology, I immediately called Mrs. Beaumont from my cell phone and left her a message, asking her to call me instead of my brother. I still haven’t heard from her.
Pacing back and forth, I’m torn between going back to Kade’s room or staying with my mom, listening to those godawful words over and over. I know what they mean, and it’s breaking my heart hearing them.
“It’s okay, Britney. You can go back to Kade’s room.” It’s like my mom was in my head, listening to my thoughts.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to leave you by yourself.”
“I’m perfectly capable of sitting with your brother. If anything changes or the other doctor arrives, I will text you.”
“Okay.” Before I leave, I kiss my mom on the cheek. “It’ll be okay, Mom. Just give him time.” I attempt to reassure her before shutting the door behind me.
It’s not long before I’m back at Kade’s room. When I walk in, I’m surprised to see he’s awake. The second his eyes lock onto mine, relief washes over me. For the first time in what feels like days, though it’s only been hours, I know for a fact Kade will recover from his gunshot wound. The nurse finishes jotting information down on his chart and informs us the doctor will be in after she gets out of surgery.
“He’s all yours,” the nurse says with a smile as he leaves the room.
“Hey, beautiful.” I turn around to see if someone is behind me, but there isn’t.
“You must not be getting enough oxygen to your brain,” I tea
se.
“I’m getting plenty of oxygen. I just wanted you to know you’re beautiful.”
My heart skips a beat at his compliment, but I know he’s lying because I’ve seen how I look. I have puffy eyes with dark circles under them, and I had to ask for a rubber band for my hair, which gives a new meaning to ‘messy bun.’
“Maybe I should rush the doctor out of surgery because you’re clearly delusional.”
“Shut up and take the compliment, Brit.”
I approach his bed and pick up his hand to hold. It’s warm and calloused and feels so good in my hand. “Thank you,” I finally say, accepting his words.
“Where’s Deacon?”
“After speaking with your surgeon, my brother got dizzy, hit his head on the linoleum, and was out cold with a concussion. He’s in a room on the second floor. My mom is with him right now.”
“Is he okay?”
“Why don’t you just worry about getting better and let me worry about my brother, okay?”
Kade’s expression shifts from complacent to worried in the blink of an eye, indicating he’s not okay with being left in the dark. Omitting information to my mother is one thing. Keeping information from Kade—who probably should know what’s going on—is a whole other issue. The man just had surgery on his heart. But I don’t want to send him into cardiac arrest by dishing out all that I know.
“Brit, tell me. What’s going on?”
“Your mom hasn’t called back yet, but I hope to hear from her soon. It’ll be nice to give her the news that you’re awake and on the mend.” The words tumble out of my mouth, and I’m not even sure if they made sense.
“Don’t change the subject, Brit. And my mom knows I’m okay. I’m sure your phone call—”
“It was probably Deacon’s call,” I interrupt.
“It doesn’t matter who. Mom called the hospital last night, and the doctor told her I was still resting from the drugs and in recovery.”