Hard to Let Go (27 page)

Was this . . . was this really happening? But how? What the heck had she missed?

Kat stayed glued to the news for the next half hour, but didn’t learn anything new. A nurse—male this time, apparently the shifts had changed since she’d last been awake—came in to take her vitals and inform her that they were going to be extubating her airway tube.

She was thrilled. Until the procedure itself, which left her throat raw and achy after she gagged the tube out. Her voice sounded like it belonged to a seventy-year-old lifelong smoker. Awesome.

The nurse also told her that most of the fluid had drained from her chest cavity, which meant she’d probably only need to have the chest tube in for another day or two. She couldn’t wait.

Kat drifted in and out of sleep, awakened by the pain in her chest, strange, scary nightmares, and nurses checking her vitals. Each time she opened her eyes, she hoped she’d find someone sitting by her side, but instead found the room empty. A sign under the wall-mounted clock across from her bed announced that visiting hours started at noon. Maybe someone would come then?

At 11:59 a smiling African-American nurse came through the door. “I have something I think might cheer you up,” she said, then leaned in and whispered, “
Girl
, they’ve been waiting for hours to come see you. Mmm-mmm.”

Then Nick and Beckett walked through the door.

Kat had never been happier to see other people in her life. She clapped a hand over her mouth as a sob climbed into her sore throat.

Nick rushed to her side and leaned in for a hug. Her chest hurt too much to lift her arms very high, so she clung to him awkwardly, but neither of them cared.

“How is Jeremy?” she rasped.

Bracing his arms on the rails, Nick said, “Charlie texted earlier to say he was awake and that Jeremy recognized him right away. He’s apparently annoyed as shit at the airway tube.” Nick smiled, and it was so good to see. And so . . . unusual, too. Even Nick’s eyes seemed brighter, happier. “I’m gonna go visit him next.”

Her gaze slid over Nick’s shoulder to where Beckett hung back by the door. God, it was good to see him. Although, his face was beat all the hell up. “Come in,” she said, waving her hand. “What happened to you?”

He moved like an old man, like it was more than just his face that had taken a beating.

“It’s a long story,” he said, coming around the side of her bed, one hand behind his back.

Kat glanced between the two men—two of the three about whom she cared most in the whole world. “Oh, I saw the news. What the heck happened?”

Nick grinned at Beckett. “Aw, hell. Ruined our surprise.” Then he produced a newspaper from behind his back. The
Washington Post
.

One of the page-one headlines read: Landon Kaine at Center of International Smuggling Conspiracy.

“And look at this,” Nick said, flipping through the A section. He turned the paper toward her, and she saw a photo of an older man who bore a striking resemblance to Charlie. It was Charlie and Becca’s father, and the team’s commander, Frank Merritt. A headline read: New Evidence Comes to Light in Deaths of Seven Green Berets.

Kat’s eyes scanned the story, and it was—finally—the beginning of the end of this whole nightmare for them. According to an off-the-record source at the Pentagon, there was going to be a new investigation into the circumstances of the ambush and the surviving members’ other-than-honorable discharges.

Her gaze cut to Nick’s. “You’re going to be cleared. All of you. I’m so happy for you,” she said, more damn tears leaking from her eyes. It was like she was a waterworks today.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Kat. I want you to know that. You made so many damn sacrifices,” Nick said.

She shook her head. “No, I did exactly what I had to do. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I would definitely change this,” he said, his hand waving over her body in the hospital bed. Beckett nodded, his expression serious.

But
this
hadn’t happened because of the situation with Nick’s team. This had happened because she had made too many excuses for someone who hadn’t deserved even one. “Me laying in this bed isn’t your fault, Nick,” Kat said. “And I know it’s not really mine either, but I could’ve taken more steps to make sure something like this didn’t happen.” She blew out a breath, wincing at a zing of pain from beneath her ribs, and calmed her breathing. “I’m sorry.”

“Cole’s dead, and it’s over now. Let’s talk about it later,” Nick said. Kat’s gut filled with surprise and sad relief. She never thought it would come to all this. “The only important thing right now is getting you better. How are you feeling?”

She grimaced. “Like somebody cut open my chest, stirred some things around, and sewed me back up again.” He arched his brow, and it made her smile. “I hurt. And I’m exhausted. But I’m going to be okay.”

Nick nodded. “Yes, you are.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Listen, I’m gonna let you and Beckett visit. I’ll go see Jeremy.”

“Okay,” Kat said. “Tell him I love him.” Nick agreed, and left.

And then it was just her and Beckett . . .

She scooted her legs to the side as much as she could, gritting her teeth against the pain. “Sit down—”

“No, that’s okay—”

“Beckett, don’t be stubborn. Sit with me.”

He chuckled and grimaced, then sat his hip on the edge of the mattress. “You’re ordering me around from your hospital bed. Do you realize this?”

She smiled and nodded. “You love it.”

His face went serious and he nodded. “I do. Oh, I, uh, brought you something.” He revealed a stuffed animal from behind his back. The sweetest gray and pink stuffed elephant she’d ever seen. Well, except for the one she’d had as a very small kid. Whatever happened to that guy?

“Aw, Beckett. This is so cute. Thank you.” She hugged it against her face, and it was silky soft. “He’ll be my constant companion.”

Beckett grasped her hand and scooted closer. “Actually, I, uh . . .”

Was his hand shaking? “What? Are you okay?” she asked.

“Uh.” He chuckled nervously. “Well, yeah, it’s just that . . . um . . . I’m sorta hoping that I could be that, instead.”

Kat blinked. “Be what?”

Those incredible blue eyes looked deep into hers, and she’d never seen them more open and vulnerable. “Your constant companion.”

Her heart panged and her eyes prickled. “I . . . I’d like that.”

“Wait,” he said. “I’m screwing this up.”

“No you’re not—”

“I am,” he said. “Because what I really want to say is, Kat, I love you. I am
in love
with you. And I want a chance to be the man who gets the honor and privilege of standing by your side.”

She pressed a shaking hand to her mouth because, damnit, she was going to start crying again. “You . . . love me?”

He blew out a shaky breath. “Uh, yeah?”

“Well, that’s really good, because I love you, too, Beckett.”

It was, without question, the first time she ever saw unrestrained joy on the man’s face. And even with all the bruises and nicks and cuts he had, it made him absolutely gorgeous.

Keeping his weight off her body, he leaned as close as he could and kissed her cheek. “I really want to kiss you and hold you, but I’m afraid I’ll hurt you.”

Kat cupped his handsome face in her hands. “I’m kinda afraid I’ll hurt you if I hug you, too.” She gave him a soft kiss. “So I’ll just tell you again and again. I love you. So much.”

Beckett’s eyes got glassy, she would’ve sworn it. He blinked fast and leaned his forehead against hers. “I’ve never been the kind of man who believed in dreams, Kat. That wasn’t the hand I got dealt. So I sure as hell never spent any time chasing them.” He swallowed hard and nodded. “But meeting you . . . if I could’ve dreamed, if I’d have even known what to dream of, it would’ve been of you.”

Now Kat was the one blinking fast. She stroked her fingers down his face. “That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she said, her voice cracking. “You’re such a good man, Beckett, and you deserve to have dreams. And I would love to be the one who helps you make them come true.”

“Was so scared I lost you,” he said, lowering his head to her shoulder. His big shoulders shook, and it broke her heart.

“Aw, no. You didn’t. I’m right here with you, Beckett.” She stroked his shoulders, his neck, the back of his head . . . where he had a big knot. “What happened to you?”

He heaved a deep breath and swiped at his eyes before he looked at her. “The short version is, I got shot and blown up.”

Kat’s eyes went wide as she raked her gaze over him. “Uh, I think maybe I’d better have the long version.”

Beckett told her everything. Kat was equal parts horrified, amazed, and proud. What an incredibly strong, brave man she had.

“And now, finally, you have everything you deserve,” she said, pointing at the paper still covering her lap. “I’m so happy for you. For all of you. God, I wish I wasn’t in here so I could celebrate with you.”

“Me too,” he said. “But you’ll be out in a few days and then we’ll celebrate. Jeremy, too.”

She nodded. “Do you think you’ll see this Chen guy again?”

Beckett’s eyes narrowed and he finally nodded. “For some reason, yeah. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of him. But who knows. He’s done everything he said he’d do for us, and probably bigger and better than we could’ve done it ourselves.”

The news anchor mentioned Kaine’s name, and Kat pointed to the TV. “Oh, look. It’s your story again. Come sit on this side so you can see,” she said.

Eyes on the TV, Beckett rounded the bed.

Kat scooted over and patted the mattress. “Think you can fit?”

He chuckled. “I don’t want to jostle you.”

“What if I
want
you to jostle me?” She waggled her eyebrows.

He barked out a laugh. “I’m not sure either of us is going to be up to
jostling
for a few days, do you?”

Grinning, Kat patted the bed again. “Well, then, squeeze in with me. No matter what, being with you will make me feel better.”

He just managed to fit along the side, and she’d been right. His warmth and his scent and his touch . . . Beckett made everything better.

A male anchor looked into the camera. “This story involving Army General Landon Kaine just keeps getting bigger and bigger today. The D.C. police have confirmed that they found Kaine dead at his home of an apparent self-inflicted gunshot wound just an hour ago.”

Beside her, Beckett’s muscles went rigid.

Kat’s hand flew to her heart. “Oh, my God.” Just days ago she’d sat less than ten feet away from that man in a coffee shop. And now he was dead?

The newscaster continued, “Police reported to the quiet upper Northwest D.C. neighborhood when area residents reported hearing gunfire. To repeat, police are confirming the apparent death by suicide of General Landon Kaine, revealed by the
Washington Post
just this morning as the mastermind behind an international drug smuggling conspiracy . . .”

“Jesus,” Beckett said, raking his hand through his hair. “I can’t believe it.”

Kat shook her head. “I can’t either. It’s horrible.” She grasped his chin and nudged him to look at her. “But if Wexler and Kaine and Church are all dead now, then that means that you and Nick and the guys are all safe. All of us are. And I can’t feel bad about that.”

“No,” he said. “That’s nothing to feel bad about at all.”

Sighing, Kat pointed to the remote attached to Beckett’s side of the bed railing. “Can you turn the TV off? I don’t want the outside world in here right now. I just wanna be with you.”

“That right there is my dream come true, Kat.” He shifted and lifted his arm, inviting her to rest her head in the crook of his shoulder. They were packed in the little bed like sardines, but it was warm and comfortable and exactly where she wanted to be.

“Thank you for helping my brother, Beckett. I love you so much,” Kat said, sleepiness softening her voice.

“Aw, Angel, I love you, too. Now, sleep,” he said, gently resting his head against hers.

“So bossy,” she whispered, and then she did exactly what he’d told her to do.

Epilogue

One week later . . .

“U
h, guys?” Marz called from his desk, his gaze glued to one of the security monitors. Everyone else, including Kat and Jeremy, who were both finally home from the hospital, was still finishing up lunch around the big table in the gym. Beckett was so glad to have Kat back at his side. And to be able to sleep in a bed wider than three feet. “We’ve got company.”

“Who is it?” Nick called, getting up from the table. The team had stayed together, still in defensive mode, until they received confirmation that the other members of Kaine and Wexler’s conspiracy had been picked up by the authorities. Afterward, the Ravens had gone home with the team’s undying gratitude and a standing offer to return the favor if ever they could.

Beckett rose, too.

“It’s Chen,” Marz said.

“I’ll go let him in,” Nick said, darting across the gym.

Beckett knew he should’ve put money on seeing the guy again. Question was, what the hell did he want? Had something gone wrong with the investigation? Did he need them to gather more evidence?

As was their habit whenever something work-related arose, everyone congregated around Marz’s desk. Nick returned a few minutes later, Chen at his side in navy pants and a light blue button-down. He carried an oversized briefcase in his hand.

“Gentlemen,” he said when he reached the desk. He took a moment to shake everyone’s hands. “I have some things for you.”

“Good things?” Nick asked, unleashing a chuckle around the room.

“I think so,” Chen said, opening his case. “I have good news and bad news.”

Beckett’s shoulders fell. And he didn’t think he was the only one. What now? He took Kat’s hand in his, and she gave him a wink.

“Let’s hear the bad news first,” Nick said, voice tight.

Chen nodded and scanned the group. “Okay. The bad news is that you cannot share any part of the following conversation with anyone outside this room.”

“About what?” Nick asked.

“For starters, this,” he said, pulling a stack of manila folders from his case. One by one he handed them to the five guys from the team.

Beckett flipped his open. The top sheet was a letter from the Secretary of Defense stamped Top Secret. Beckett could barely digest what it said, because all his eyes wanted to do was bounce around from one soul-healing phrase to another.

You suffered a grave injustice at the hands of someone who should’ve protected your trust, your honor, and your life . . .

Effective immediately, and backdated to your original separation from the military, your discharge type is now Honorable, qualifying you for all the rights, benefits, and privileges of veterans of the United States military . . .

Your service record and performance evaluations have been restored . . .

Heart racing in his chest, Beckett passed the letter to Kat and found his original, pre-ambush career records. The ones that hadn’t been doctored to support a characterization of dereliction of duty, a history of supposed grievances against their commander, and other behavioral infractions that helped build a case for discharge from the Army. It was like being given a second chance to live.

Beckett met Nick’s gaze, and they gave each other a nod. And Beckett could see in the other man’s eyes the same amazement and vindication that he felt, too. Marz, Shane, Easy—they all felt it as well. It was clear in their eyes and on their faces. Hugs and exclamations and a few tears greeted this news.

“Good news, for sure,” Nick said, his voice strained.

“I have more,” Chen said. “If I could please have Nick, Derek, Beckett, and Charlie step forward and form a line.”

Frowning, Beckett traded looks with the other three, but he did as he was asked.

“Me?” Charlie asked. “Really?”

Chen nodded and looked down at some papers in his hands. When the four of them stood before him, he began. “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to welcome you to a long-overdue Purple Heart ceremony.” Gasps from around the room, and Beckett’s heart was suddenly a jackhammer in his chest. “The Purple Heart is an American decoration, the oldest military decoration in the world in present use, and the first American award made available to the common soldier. It was initially created as the Badge of Military Merit by one of the world’s most famed and best-loved heroes, General George Washington. The actual order included the phrase, ‘Let it be known, that he who wears the Military Order of the Purple Heart has given of his blood in defense of his homeland, and shall forever be revered by his fellow countrymen’ . . .”

Aw, hell. Beckett knew he wasn’t going to get through this without losing it. Christ, he never thought this day would come. Not for any of them. And it didn’t even matter that it wasn’t taking place in front of the Army brass or at some public gathering. A Purple Heart wasn’t a recognition that any soldier ever wanted, but for them, it represented a basic restoration of justice. And that’s what made it so damn meaningful.

Chen met each of their eyes as he continued. “The Purple Heart is awarded to members of the Armed Forces of the United States who are wounded by an instrument of war in the hands of the enemy, and posthumously to the next of kin in the name of those who are killed in action or die of wounds received in action. It is specifically a combat decoration.”

Beckett and Marz traded glances, and the glassiness in his best friend’s eyes was a real knock to Beckett’s own control over his emotions.

“It is my honor,” Chen said, “to recognize the following veteran service members of the Army Special Forces—Derek DiMarzio, Frank Merritt, posthumously, Beckett Murda, and Nicholas Rixey—for their heroic acts and exemplary service to our nation. Gentlemen, today you are joining an elite list of patriots who, throughout our nation’s history, have made incredible personal sacrifices in the name of freedom and democracy. The Purple Heart was originally described as ‘available to all, desired by none,’ and it speaks to the valor and sacrifice of those who wear this badge of honor. All four recipients are being honored for wounds received in Afghanistan while serving in the Army Special Forces. In addition to today’s honors, you should know that six additional members of your A-team will receive posthumous awards. Walker Axton, Carlos Escobal, Jake Harlow, Colin Kemmerer, Marcus Rimes, and Eric Zane. We will never forget their sacrifices, and our thoughts and prayers go out to their loved ones.”

At the mention of Marcus’s name, Easy pressed his fist over his mouth. Marcus had been Easy’s best friend, and his death right in front of Easy’s eyes led to the combat-related guilt that still ate at Easy to this very day. Beckett looked to Shane next, and was glad to see he wasn’t the only one struggling to hold it together, because as Shane stood at attention, he wasn’t even trying to keep the silent tears from slipping from the corners of his eyes. Hell, there might not have been a dry eye in the whole place.

Chen pulled four brass frames and four square jewelry boxes from his briefcase. “Award recipients, the full orders, which I have here for each of you, detail your service, contributions, and sacrifices. By order of the President of the United States of America, the Purple Heart is awarded to Derek DiMarzio, Beckett Murda, and Nicholas Rixey, and to Frank Merritt, posthumously, for wounds received in action.”

One by one, Chen pinned the award on their chests, handed them their framed certificates, and shook their hands. Derek received his first, and seeing his best friend recognized for his incredible sacrifice lifted some of the guilt that Beckett had carried for the past year. Beckett received his next, then Nick, and then Charlie, on behalf of his father. Charlie seemed to hold it together pretty well until Chen pinned the heart and ribbon to his chest. Jeremy pulled a sobbing Charlie into his arms as Becca slipped the frame from his hands and rubbed his back.

And then it was over. Done. Cheers and hugs and handshakes all around.

Kat crossed to Beckett through the crowded room as quickly as she could, which wasn’t fast only a week after heart surgery. She gently hugged him and laid her head over his heart. “I’m so proud of you, Beckett.”

“I’m kinda proud of me, too,” he said. And he was, for maybe the first time in his life.

Chen stood just separate from the fray, that small, enigmatic smile he always wore on his face. “Whenever you’re ready, there’s more.”

Nick chuckled. “What else could there possibly be?”

“You might be surprised,” Chen said, winking. With Chen, they were pretty much
always
surprised. “So, given the awkwardness of your situation and the media circus that the revelations about Kaine have caused, the Army would like to offer reparations, but struggled for a way to do so without drawing undue attention. I came up with what I hope is a solution acceptable to each of you.” He passed out envelopes to the five team members and Charlie.

Beckett frowned as he peered inside and found a check . . . for one million dollars.

“Merritt had an account with twelve million dollars in it, and there were twelve team members impacted by Kaine’s actions. Each member—or his heirs—will receive an equal one-twelfth share,” Chen said.

Silence for a long moment. And then all hell broke loose.

“Holy shit,” Shane said, gray eyes wide.

Beckett shook his head. He needed no compensation beyond justice, and they were getting that. At long last. “I don’t want this.”

Shane nodded to Beckett. “I was never in this for the money.”

Easy stepped to the desk and laid his envelope on top of Chen’s case. “I would like mine to go to Rimes’s family.”

“Becca,” Charlie said. “Half of this is yours, of course, but I’m giving my half to Jeremy. For the building.”

“That’s right where this is going, too,” Nick said, holding up his envelope.

Chen held up his hands. “I’m not taking back any checks. At least not today. Think about it. Let it sink in. I suspect we’ll be in touch, because I have one more thing.”

“Holy crap,” Kat said, sinking into a chair. “I don’t think my heart can take any more.”

Everyone chuckled, but she was right. Each new revelation was more unbelievable than the last. At least this time, though, the revelations were all in their favor, rather than against. That was a nice fucking change of pace.

Pulling a legal-sized envelope from his case, Chen met the gaze of each of the men from the team. “The five of you did excellent work. Work this country needs done. Work that not many can do. In this envelope I have the details of an offer for the five of you to form a Top Secret task force, working with the full resources and support of the Company, to investigate similar instances of corruption in the U.S. military in combat zones. And other investigations to be mutually agreed upon. You get the idea.” He passed the envelope to Nick.

You could’ve heard a hair fall to the floor. A job offer. He was coming to them with a job offer . . . working for the CIA. Beckett didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or pinch himself to see if he was dreaming all this up. Now that he was trying his hand at this dreaming thing, and all . . .

Chen laughed. It was the first time Beckett had ever heard him do so. “I know my job is complete when I’ve completely killed the conversation in a room.”

Nick shook his head. “Sorry, no. It’s just that—”

“Don’t say anything right now,” Chen said. “I won’t brook any debate. Read the details. Talk about it between the five of you. Think about it for as long as you like. It’s a standing offer.” He clicked his case closed and patted his hand against the leather. “Unfortunately, my bag of tricks is now empty.”

“I’d say that was a pretty amazing set of tricks just as it was,” Becca said. Nods and agreement all around.

Beckett stepped right up to the man and offered his hand. “Thank you. What you did today means a lot. Just want to say that.” Chen nodded, and every single person in the room—men and women, alike—came and offered their gratitude.

And then Chen split, as quickly as he’d come.

“Well, that was interesting,” Jeremy said, setting off chuckles around the room. As he’d done the past few days, his choice of T-shirt today once again featured a “head” theme. This one had a stick figure of a man with a disproportionately tiny head. The text read,
A little head never hurt anyone.
He said he was celebrating still having a head, after all. Jeremy was recovering just fine.

“I want to throw another idea on the table,” Nick said, “if we’re going to seriously consider this.” He tapped his fingers against Chen’s envelope.

Beckett nodded. “Let’s hear it.” Because he had one of his own. Chen was right—they
had
worked well together. And they each brought different areas of expertise to the table. They made a great team, and he wasn’t ready to give that up. For a whole lot of reasons.

“Remember that cover story we told Jess a few weeks ago?” Nick asked. “The one where the five of us were working together to start up a new security-consulting business?”

Satisfaction rolled into Beckett’s gut. They were on the same wavelength after all.

“I was gonna suggest the same damn thing,” Easy said. “Truth is, I don’t have anything to go back to Philly for. And I—” He shook his head. “—I’d miss you assholes if we lost touch again.”

Beckett appreciated Easy going there. He really did. Because he was pretty damn sure the guy had just given voice to something every damn member of the team was thinking.

“I’m in,” Beckett said. “My brain was heading in the same direction.”

Marz nodded and pulled Emilie into his arms. “You fuckers are the only family I’ve ever had. I’m in, too.”

Shane nodded. “Hell, yeah. And besides . . .” He clasped hands with Sara. “No doubt Chen’s offer is great, but I don’t want to travel overseas, gone for months at a time. Not anymore. It’s not for me personally, anyway.”

“Me either,” Easy said. He put his arm around Jenna and pulled her in against his side.

Everyone nodded in agreement.

Becca blew out a long breath. “Oh, thank God,” she said, dropping her face into her hands. “I thought I was going to be the one to have heart problems this time.” She threw her arms around Nick’s neck. “I would’ve supported you either way, but it would be so hard to see you go.”