Brawler (38 page)

Standing outside the surgery lobby the doc comes out and tells what I already knew. Ben pulled through, but will be in ICU on life support until further notice. When he leaves I sink down to the ground, pull my knees up to my chest, and stare at nothing. The elevator dings and out walk the four women we had been searching for, and Macy, in the end, saved.

“Detective,” says the leader of the group. “Judging by your place on the floor, I can assume he pulled through?”

Nodding was all I could do. I guess it was good enough, since she kept talking. “We’ve contacted our families and are getting checked before we go, but if you have a few moments I’d like to explain to you what happened when Macy arrived. I think her husband would want to know someday.”

Each took a turn explaining how Macy stood up for them, took beatings meant for them, defied Ben and the unknown as well as fought them both for her freedom as well as theirs. They explained how she refused to leave the basement without them and how she also refused to give them the knowledge in her head. They wanted to express their thanks, and they hoped to see her again. As the other three turned to leave, the leader knelt down and told me if he’d pulled through what floor he’d be placed on, and that it was a floor she herself worked on. She just let that hang there, turned, and left.

Hearing how Macy pulled them all through doesn’t surprise me. That woman is a lot stronger than people give her credit for. She ain’t had an easy life, but even with all the shit she’s been through, she still smiles easy and manages to be a happy person. Not too sure how she’s gonna handle losing that baby, though. Fuck, but that kid made them two happier than I’ve ever seen them.

When they leave and I am truly alone, I cry. For my best friend and partner, his wife and my sister, and most especially for the baby I ain’t ever going to hold. They’ve lost enough in this lifetime; those two deserve peace. So that’s when I decide that once Ben is moved, I am going to put that fucker to rest myself.

J
ules came over to me to let me know she’ll be in touch, and that she’s going to see this through. I thank her for her help because without her … Anyway, Max says he’s taking her home, wherever that is, and that he’ll be in touch, too. I can tell he had more to say, but fuck if I can stand to hear it right now. Venessa falls asleep on my shoulder, and I know Rogan was somewhere taking care of things for us.

The women each come and offer a quick goodbye, and tell me to talk to Rogan about what happened when I am ready. Truth? I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.

Checking the clock on the wall, it’s 8:28 a.m. My wife has been in surgery since 10:15 p.m., and the doc hasn’t been back out since we lost the baby at midnight. When Venessa moans Macy’s name, I feel the tears start to pool in my eyes. Choking it back, I pull her closer hoping to settle her. When she calms a bit, I lean my head back against the wall and take myself back to the very first time I saw her. The day I walked into the Detroit Flyhouse to meet up with Rogan. I spotted her on the lira looking like a fucking fantasy. I fell in love with her then, and it was simply her smile that did it. When she looked up at me, she winked, and I asked Rogan about the female with the black hair, knowing that for the first time ever, I wanted a woman for my own. I wanted Macy Kowalski.

Now I have Macy Rafe, and I could also lose her. Found my soul mate, made her my wife, and in less time than it takes to blink, I lost our child, and could still lose my wife. And all because of greed.

Hanging my head I pray for something, anything, to make her pull through. I prayed to whoever is listening and promise I will see her through this. I will comfort her, ease her, and together we will heal. I vow not to lose my temper; I vow patience. I vow to support her, to cry with her, and to make her happy again.

More than anything, I pray the child I lost knew he was loved, and I pray he is watching over his mother. How long I stay like that, I didn’t know. Not until the doc comes out and touches me on the shoulder again.

“Detective,” he says quietly, and I’m terrified to know. When I don’t speak he kneels before me. Oh god, no.

“Your wife is in recovery,” he says, and Venessa gasps while I just cry. “She’s lost a lot of blood and needs a lot of rest, but the bullet missed her organs because —”

“Because our baby took the hit,” I finish, and as hard as it is to hear, our baby probably saved his mother’s life. “When can I see her?”

“Give us a couple of hours to get her comfortable, Detective,” he says. “Your wife is a very brave and lucky woman, and I am so sorry for your loss.”

“Doc?” I ask, “Can you find out if we had a boy or a girl? My wife and I would like to know.”

“You had a son, Detective,” he says, standing up and walking away.

“A son,” I whisper to no one in particular.

Then, once again from out of nowhere, my partner is there to catch me when I fall.

W
atching Rafe collapse into Rogan’s arms has me running over to help hold him up. I have never ever seen Rafe so … broken. Rogan, though, holds him tight. Talking him through it. They had a son. He would have been beautiful. He deserved to be born. He was meant to make them a family. Instead, he took a bullet for his mother. Hearing Rafe cry for his wife, my best friend, is too hard for me. I can’t fucking deal with it.
Macy Kowalski, you better wake up, goddammit, or I will kick your ass!
I think to myself.
Get your ass back here and help your husband. He needs you! I beg her. I need you!

Looking up at my own soul mate and seeing the tears in his eyes while he holds his friend finally breaks the dam. I couldn’t hold back anymore, I’m sad, I’m scared, I’m pissed, I’m lost like everyone else. Macy was the one who pushed me to never give up, to stay strong. Until Rogan, Macy was the one constant in my life. The one person who never let me down. She saw me through the darkest years of my life and it’s up to me to pay her back now.

When they break apart Rafe rubs his eyes, seeming to pull himself together. They nod to each other in male understanding and when Rogan pats him on the back, Rafe looks like he gathered all his strength in one breath, and then he approaches me and pulls me into a fierce hug and whispers, “We won’t lose her, Venessa. I won’t let that fucking happen.”

Then standing taller, he walks down the hall and away from us. We both watch him go. I wanted to tell him I believe him, that if anyone could make her listen it would be him. Problem is, I have no words. When Rogan folds me into his arms I struggle to calm my breathing, but somehow do. He’s a calming person and I love him for that. Tilting my chin up he tells me, “He’s got her, Angel. He ain’t giving up. You ain’t giving up, either. I won’t let you.”

I blink rapidly to fight back the tears. Squeezing me tighter, he keeps going. “Wasn’t too long ago that it was me out here. Didn’t know how I was gonna make it without you, but Rafe pulled me through. He told me you’d fight, you’d come back to me, and you did. She will, too. Neither one of you knows how to quit. Get yourself ready for her. She’s gonna need you.”

As always, he’s right. I’ll never know how I got so lucky. Seeing all this play out from this side of the operating room makes me realize how strong he is. He never gave up on me, even when I was ready to give up on myself. Rogan Black is a gift; he’s my gift. After all the bullshit I went through, after all the days I spent in darkness, he was my gift for enduring it all. He’s my light, my everything, and once the full truth of that sinks deep into my heart I have to say it. I have to let him know.

“Marry me,” I beg him, because I need him bound to me in every way

“Angel, ain’t too often you steal my thunder, but when you do, you do it right,” he says, hugging me.

“I’m serious, Rogue,” I tell him. “Marry me.”

“Angel,” he whispers in my ear. “Never doubted you’d come around to my way of thinking. I was being a gentleman, giving you time.”

“You knew I was a sure thing, huh?”

“I knew you loved me,” he says. “So yeah, I knew you were a sure thing. Can’t wait to fucking marry you. Might even have to do it twice. Guessin’ once ain’t gonna be enough.”

“I do,” I whisper. “Love you, and I’ll marry you as many times as you want.”

“You still my pumpkin?” he asks, and I nod.

“You still my tree?” I ask, and he nods.

We stand there wrapped around each other for a while. I want to go to Rafe and give him support, but I can tell he needs time alone to get himself right. So instead of running down the hall, I stand there with my soon-to-be husband, and for the second time in my life, I counted my blessings.

W
hen the nurse brought me in to her room my first thought was, it’s too quiet. My wife is never quiet because she has so much to say, and I miss that voice. Walking over to her bed and looking down at her, there are tubes everywhere. In her arms, her nose, and in between her legs. Taking it all in, my knees just give out. Luckily the nurse is close by with a chair, and instructs me to sit and talk to her. She tells me she should be coming out of sedation soon, and it will be a slow process.

Taking her hands, I notice how cold they are. They have her wrapped in blankets like she’s a burrito. When I ask the nurse if she’ll overheat she smiles and tells me no, she’s on so much medication, and accompanied by blood loss, she’ll be cold for a while. That makes sense, but I still frown because my wife hates being covered up.

The nurse leaves and I’m finally alone with her. She has bruises under her eyes, her skin is almost grey, her lips have no color, and still she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I stare at her for a while. At one point I even start talking to her, but I can’t be sure what I said. But I do know it takes everything I have not to crawl into that hospital bed and hold her. I need her to wake up and tell me she forgives me for not getting there in time. For letting her down.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I pull up the blankets on one side and move her gown. Her stomach is bandaged and I run my hand over the top, never actually touching the bandages, but hovering close enough that I can feel the loss of our baby. I should have pulled her behind me faster. That bullet was meant for my stomach, not for hers. If I had just been a second faster it, could have been me in this bed, like it should have been. Bowing my head I weep for the baby we’ll never hold. Our son.

I must have dozed off. My neck is stiff and my back is kinked, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s when I feel her hands in my hair that I lose the ability to breathe. I’m afraid to look up, I’m afraid of what I’ll see. I’m afraid she’ll hate me for not protecting her and our child. I’m afraid … she won’t love me anymore.

But when I do look up, my beautiful wife erases every fucking doubt and fear I have when our eyes meet and she smiles. She smiles that fucking smile that’s reserved for just me. I see sadness and questions there, and I’m ready to tackle all of it with her, for her.

It’s that fucking smile that gave me the courage to tell my wife of my greatest failure.