by M. S. Parker
“Can I see you again?” she asked.
“No.” Shaking my head, I turned to the door. In the mirror, I saw her mouth form a pout, but I knew it was only a display. There was always another man in uniform to take my place.
She’d gotten what she needed from me.
I wish I’d gotten what I needed – a little bit of amnesia.
But I hadn’t forgotten a damn thing.
* * *
I’d read the report from cover to cover at least five times now.
I kept hoping it would change, but every single damn word was the same.
Looking up at my commanding officer, I finally placed it face down and got up. I moved over to the far side of the room and stared outside. “Do the others know, sir?”
“They’ve all been debriefed, yes.” Lieutenant Commander Michael Hawkins had a face that could have been carved from granite, and he gave no sign as to the emotions he was feeling. I had a good idea though.
“What will happen to her?”
For a moment, LC Hawkins didn’t respond, and I turned to look at him.
“At ease,” he said irritably, already reading the expression on my face. “No, she’s not getting off. Trust me, Senator Wallace tried damn hard to make it happen, but this was treason. Both Kylie and her mother…”
Treason.
My gut soured, and I thought I might get sick. I moved back to the table and braced my hands on the cold metal, staring down at the report. “Dog and Rake, they died for a traitor.”
“They died for their country, doing a job you all believe in,” Hawkins corrected me.
I looked up at him to see if he really believed what he just said, as I heard a knock at the door. Hawkins’s dark eyes narrowed a fraction. Officers didn’t much like being interrupted. He moved to the door and opened it.
I tuned out the low voices, right up until I heard the visitor say my name.
That tone of voice. I recognized it.
He spoke, and the words connected, in an odd sort of way.
They connected. But they didn’t make sense.
They couldn’t be real.
“Adam, son…did you hear me?”
Chapter Four
Reaper
Twelve hours later, I was speeding down I-71, heading toward a hospital in Cincinnati. From Coronado, California to Ohio in the span of hours.
I’d done longer jaunts, but none of them had ever taken as long as this one. It had been interminable, lasting lifetimes.
I kept hearing the voice over and over…
Your mother was in an accident.
Kidney damage, extensive blood loss, collapsed lung. My brain had glossed over almost all of it, but it had latched onto the first – and vital – injury. Mom only had one kidney. If the damage was severe…
I pounded a fist on the steering wheel of the SUV I’d rented and shoved it out of my mind.
My dad had disappeared not long after knocking my mother up. I had no idea who he was, nor did I care. My mom was – and had always been – everything for me. And now she was lying in a hospital bed because of some drunk-ass driver.
Your mother was in an accident.
Navigating the streets with the ease that came from a lifetime of living in the area, I hit the exit ramp going way too fast and hoped there weren’t any cops. I couldn’t say luck was going my way, but maybe fate decided to take pity on me. No sirens went off as I blasted down the stretch of road going sixty. I laid rubber as I slammed on the brakes, turning into the hospital.
The woman at the front desk took one look at me and tensed.
“Sir, visiting hours–”
“My mother’s in ICU. Bad wreck, they don’t think she’ll make it. Don’t even try,” I said, striding past her.
One of the security guards stepped between me and the elevators. Fortunately, I knew him. Mom had worked here for twenty years, after all.
“It’s okay, Elsie. This is Mary Dedman’s boy. He flew all the way here from…where you stationed at now, Adam?”
I didn’t want to play the game of Midwestern pleasantries, but Joe could get me up to that room. So I played. “California, sir.”
He nodded, then looked at the woman behind the desk. “See? Chief Dedman…?” he paused and raised a brow at me.
I nodded again. I’d been promoted to Chief Petty Officer six months ago. Apparently, Mom and Joe were still fond of catching up over coffee.
Mom.
“Chief Dedman’s in the Navy, Elsie. He got here as fast as he could.”
Elsie frowned but turned back to her desk. “The nurses won’t let him in.”
Like hell they wouldn’t.
* * *
Mom was awake.
I wanted to think it was a good sign, but that look in her eyes…
When I sat down next to her, she held out a hand, and it was shaking. I folded my fingers around hers, the calluses there rasping against her softer skin. “Mama.”
“I knew you’d get here. I could feel it.” She closed her eyes, a sigh escaping her. “Adam…”
Lifting her hand to my lips, I kissed it then pressed it to my cheek. “You keep fighting, Mama. You’re going to pull through this.”
“No, I’m not.” She lifted her lashes once more and gazed at me, the pain in her eyes enough to level me. “It’s better this way, really. The hurtin’ is all over…fast.”
She sighed again, and the sound was thick, wet.
“Mom!”
“Hush now. You know there are sick people here…” She managed a weak smile and squeezed my hand. “I love you, Adam.”
“I love you too.”
Her lids drifted closed over soft blue eyes. “You stay with me now. And, Adam…don’t be angry…”
She drifted off to sleep.
“Mama…”
She didn’t stir.
Less than an hour later, she was gone.
* * *
The words of condolence that came from the medical staff fell on deaf ears.
She held on, waiting for you.
You were able to say goodbye.
I’m sorry for your loss.
I wanted to ask which one – they seemed to be piling up damn high lately.
Rake was gone. Dog was gone. Now Mom.
When they started talking arrangements, all I wanted to do was throw them all out, just lock myself in a room, somewhere dark and quiet. Since it wasn’t an option, I just sucked it all in and got through it. The minute there was a lull, I said to nobody in particular. “I have to go.”
“Go…?” The nurse closest to me looked confused. Then she nodded. “Of course. You must be exhausted. I know this is all very sudden.”
Sudden. Yeah. That covered it. I hadn’t seen my mother since Christmas, and now she was gone. All because of some asshole who hadn’t been able to say no to a few more drinks.
I was given names, information, told my mother had already made arrangements, and I didn’t need to do much. Did I have a phone number?
Of course I had a fucking phone number. What dumbass didn’t?
At the look one of them gave me, I realized two things – I’d said that out loud, and they were just trying to figure out where I could be contacted once they were ready to…
“I gotta go.” Turning on my heel, I strode for the door. I could handle a world of shit raining down on me, but I couldn’t handle the death of my mom. Not right now, not like this. I was almost through the door when the responsibility that Mom had drilled into me made me stop. Without looking over my shoulder, I said, “I’ll be staying at her place. Reach me there.”
Chapter Five
Reaper
The bar was a shit hole, the kind that didn’t close until the dregs of the night were fading into memory. It wasn’t quite miserable enough to suit my mood, but it wasn’t the fault of the bar or even the locale. I was in the worst part of Cincinnati I could find, but while the city had some bad areas, it couldn’t measure up to the hell holes I’d frequ
ented in my life.
Part of a SEAL’s job description was to regularly visit hell holes, and I’d grown accustomed to it.
What I wouldn’t give for my phone to ring its ass off right then, alerting me to a mission, but it was quiet. In reality, it was probably a good thing because my head wasn’t in a good place.
I wasn’t in a good place. I was in the kind of place that could end with people dead, and I’d deliberately avoided going for my phone and trying to find out anything about the man who’d plowed into my mother’s car. I already knew too much, thanks to a couple of people at the hospital not being as careful as they should. Two of the hospital staff had been talking, crying. Upset. I got it, really.
But it was dangerous to stand around and drop bombs like “…the cops on scene mentioned to the paramedics that he’d already been arrested for drunk driving twice.”
Twice. He’d been arrested twice. Had he hurt anybody before?
I could find out.
I could find out everything.
I didn’t want to do that.
Because if I did that, I’d turn into the kind of man who’d make her ashamed.
“You’ve had enough, jackass,” a woman’s tired voice said.
“Listen, you ugly bitch.”
The malice in that slurred voice had me lifting my head from the beer I’d been drinking. It was my fourth, but my head was ridiculously clear. Whether it was training or just the fact that they were probably watering down their booze, I had yet to feel even the slightest buzz.
A bald man at the far end of the bar wasn’t suffering the same problem. He was so drunk, he couldn’t even stand up without bracing himself on the bar. That didn’t keep him from making a grab for the rail-thin, scarred woman on the other side.
I took another drink and lowered my glass, setting it down harder than necessary.
The bald dude wasn’t alone in his drunkenness. “Bobbi, why don’t you just give me and Leo the bottle and mind your own fucking business?” His friend was a piggish-looking man, his nose squashed up below eyes that were narrowed to slits in his fat face.
He caught sight of me looking at him and narrowed those slitted eyes so much that the glint of them was almost impossible to make out. “What the fuck you looking at, pretty boy?”
“That’s yet to be determined.” I lifted my glass and studied him over the rim before dismissing him, taking another drink of the beer.
He was still looking at me when I put the glass down.
I ignored him and spoke to the woman behind the bar. “Can I get something else?”
She didn’t exactly turn her back on the men at the far end, but she edged my way, jerking her chin up. “What you want?”
Pulling my wallet out, I checked the cash. A few twenties. I dropped them all on the surface and smiled at her. “The bottle.”
Her lips quirked up a little as she put it down in front of me. “Asking for trouble, pretty boy,” she said in a voice too low for them to hear.
Maybe I was.
She moved off after scooping up the cash, tucking most of it into the pocket of jeans so tight it was a wonder she could move. She put one of the bills in the cash register and then smacked the arm of a bum a few seats down from me. “Last call was a few minutes ago,” she said. “Get your ass out, Hal.”
She hadn’t even done a last call, but apparently, the bum realized those words meant something. He more or less oozed over the stool and shuffled out the door. At the same time, Leo glared at Bobbi. “Where the fuck is my drink?” he shouted. He emphasized his demand by slamming his fist down on the bar. It rattled under the blow. Taking the bottle, I lifted it to the light and studied the booze inside. It was some label I’d never heard of, and the smell of it was more akin to turpentine than the Tennessee whiskey it was purported to be.
Bobbi glared at Leo. “Didn’t you hear what I said? We had last call, and you’re already so drunk you can’t see straight. Get your ass out of my place.”
“If you don’t…” He tried to point at her.
“Why don’t you do what the woman says?” I suggested. He still hadn’t noticed me holding the whiskey he’d demanded.
His friend was still glaring at me. In fact, he hadn’t taken his eyes off me.
A couple of drunk, mean bastards. As Bobbi shot me a look, I glanced at her. “You might want to stay out of the way.”
“You might want to make your peace with God,” she said. “Leo’s a mean son of a bitch.”
“Is he?” Smirking, I looked down at them and saw that the drunk piece of shit had finally managed to focus on me. “That makes it even better.”
Now that I had both of the men’s attention, I upended the bottle. The stink of the cheap alcohol filled the air as it splashed out onto the surface of the bar.
They rushed me.
Leo slammed into a chair and fell over his drunk feet before he cleared even a yard.
The pig, though…he was bigger than I realized, and as I’d suspected, all that fat hid a layer of hard muscle. He came at me hard, and I took one punch, welcoming the pain. It cut through the wall of grief inside me, and I wiped the blood from my mouth as I swung my head around to look at him. He had a decent punch, I had to admit.
“That the best you got?”
He swung again.
That one missed by a mile.
Ducking under another wild punch, I caught him in the gut before slamming a hard elbow into the side of his head. Spinning to face his partner, I curled my fingers at him. “Come on.”
An ugly smile settled on his lips. I heard the door opening to my left, quiet as it was.
“You are one dumb motherfucker,” he said.
It didn’t quite cover up the sound of footfalls though. Several of them. Flicking my eyes off to the side, I saw them coming in the mirror over the bar. “Well, hell, man…I guess this’ll be more fun than I thought.”
Chapter Six
Olivia
Rubbing my temple with one hand, I put down the tablet and pondered calling in dead.
The problem was, the old man was too shrewd to fall for it. Plus, he paid me really well. Then there was the fact that I kind of adored the guy, and he was going through some seriously shitty days lately. First he’d lost his best friend, then his wife got diagnosed with Parkinson’s and then came his own diagnosis, cancer. This latest blow had him looking every single one of his sixty-plus years.
“O?”
At the sound of my shortened name, I looked up. Andi, another one of the boss’s strays, had been working for me as my housekeeper for nearly two years now while she went to school to finish up her college degree. She was almost done, which meant I’d soon need to find somebody else to take her place. I hated cleaning. And cooking. And shopping. And I kind of sucked at remembering to check the mail and lock the door and every other thing that didn’t involve dealing with the old man.
“What do you need, Andi?” I asked, rising from my desk and grabbing the short, fitted jacket I’d chosen to wear today. My attire was almost always black and white, though I sometimes mixed it up and went white and black. It worked fairly well with my coloring. Black hair, pale skin, blue eyes. My job wasn’t to look pretty anyway. Not that I was dog ugly. I was just…boring. The old man told me I was his secret weapon. Nobody ever expected anything of me because I was so unassuming, and I made sure to dress the part. It made it easier to take care of things.
“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t need anything. You’ve been getting home later and later.” She frowned at me from the doorway, tapping a to-go coffee cup in her hand.
My eyes locked on it. “Is that mine?”
“Yes.” She smiled slyly. “And you can have it after you drink half of this.” She produced a shaker cup – one of those contraptions used for protein shakes, and I groaned. “Oh, don’t be a baby. It’s got milk and yogurt and strawberries in it. All good things.”
“Then why is it in that cup?” Suspicious, I studied her.
>
“Because it made it easier to shake it all up.” Her face was complete innocence.
“Just give me the damn coffee,” I whined, exasperated.
“Deal’s the deal.”
“Fine.” Storming over to her, I took the shaker cup and downed half of it in three swallows. It wasn’t bad. Gritty but tasty.
When I pointed that out, she said, “A scoop of whey powder too.”
“Figures. You’re a mother hen, Andi. No wonder you decided to go into nursing.” Knowing I probably wouldn’t stop until well after lunch – maybe even dinner – I finished the rest of the shake before shoving the cup at her. We traded off, and I held the coffee up to my nose, breathing in the familiar and soothing scent.
“Getting run down and sick won’t help him, you know,” she said as I turned away.
“Skipping a few meals won’t make me sick.” I jerked a shoulder in a shrug as I scooped up the tablet and dumped it in my bag. My laptop went in next, keys, phone, charger. That was it. I didn’t carry a purse – my license, cash, credit cards all went into a slim case that I kept tucked inside the front pocket of whichever jacket I was wearing. Purses were always in the way, and since I never bothered with make-up or powdering my nose or any of that stuff, why bother carrying another bag?
I was gone in another ten minutes, my driver whisking me away in the ridiculous Philadelphia traffic.
I spent the commute studying the video one more time and then tracking down just what happened to one Adam Dedman.
He’d put four men in the hospital. I’d gotten my hands on a copy of the police report, reading through the cop-talk and trying to find the best way to put some positive spin on this. If I could talk the boss into holding off…
But that wasn’t going to happen. I already knew it.