In the Arms of the Wind (28 page)

“But why wouldn’t he want to take the drugs?” Kaycee asked. “I don’t see…”

“The drugs have to be taken every day for twenty-eight days, Kaycee,” Uncle Mike interrupted. “Rape victims want desperately to shut out what has happened to them, to forget it, but in having to take that pill every day for nearly a month, it brings the whole dirty episode back to them. He’ll relive the assault every time he sees that pill. There is also a chance he might experience side effects from the drug therapy. Nausea, fatigue, headaches and thirst are fairly common and that’s going to remind him of the ordeal too.”

She hung her head as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

“I’m going to suggest to him that he talk to a counselor. My brother Liam has a degree in psychology so if Danny doesn’t want to talk to an outsider, I will urge him to at least talk to his Uncle Liam. There are physical and psychological symptoms that can and most likely will manifest themselves over the next few days so I want you to be prepared.”

“Like what?” she said, unable to raise her head.

“Loss of appetite, change in sleep patterns, nausea, headaches, stomachaches, forgetfulness or inability to concentrate. Those are the physical symptoms. Those can be handled easily enough. It’s the psychological ones that concern me. Guilt, fear, shame, loss of self-respect, depression and mood swings, withdrawal from his relationship with you, changes in sexual activities, believing himself to be unable to control his life are very common. Sometimes a rape victim will exhibit violent anger, nervous or compulsory behavior, or he’ll flashback to the incident. There again, the ketamine in his system might exacerbate the situation. I’m going to keep him here overnight just in case he has any further side effects from that drug.”

“This is a nightmare,” she said.

“Right now, the only people who know what happened to Danny are the two of us, him and his attacker, and the three bodyguards. I’ve already spoken to them and warned them not to reveal what they know. Danny would not want his grandfather or brothers to be privy to this.”

“No,” she said. “He wouldn’t.” She looked up. “He’s going to go after the man who did this to him.”

“Yes, I am sure he will.”

“What’s the son of a bitch’s name? Do you know?”

“LeJuan Cannon,” the surgeon supplied. “The cops have an APB out on him, but I’m hoping Johnny’s people will find him first.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to help her up.

“I’m going to stay here with him tonight,” she said.

“He went to a private room and I believe there’s a loveseat in there. I’ll make sure the nurses bring you a blanket and pillow.” He turned, opened the door and ushered her out, pushed the swinging door into the waiting room open.

The first face Kaycee saw was that of Danny’s grandfather. The old man was sitting with his hands braced on his cane, his face filled with anxiety and fear. Johnny stepped in front of him, hurrying over to take Kaycee’s arm.

“How is he?” Johnny asked. “They won’t tell us where he is or anything!”

“He’s upstairs, Johnny,” Uncle Mike said. “Right now he doesn’t need any visitors. I’m going to keep him overnight so why don’t you take Dad home and…”

“I want to see my grandson!” Xavier snapped. He struggled to stand, Dermot rushing over to help the elderly man to his feet.

“No, Dad,” Uncle Mike said, “and we’re not going to debate this. The only person I’m going to allow to see him is Kaycee.”

“Why her?” Johnny asked, his hand clamping tighter on Kaycee’s arm.

“Because right now that’s who he wants to see,” the surgeon said. “If he wants to see you tomorrow, that’s fine, but today, it’s only going to be his fiancée.”

Kaycee was looking into the old man’s eyes. She knew he was studying her swollen eyes, the tear tracks down her cheeks and tried to smile at him to relieve his anxiety.

“He’s gonna be okay?” Xavier asked, hard eyes searching Kaycee.

“Yes sir,” she said. “I have every intention of making sure he comes through this as easily as humanely possible.”

The old man stared at her for a long moment then lifted his cane to tap Johnny on the shoulder. “Come along, John. We’ll see him tomorrow.” He turned, disdaining Dermot’s offer of help.

“
Daideo
?” Kaycee called out, and the old man hobbled around to face her. She shrugged off Johnny’s hold, went to Xavier, stared him in the eye, and lowered her voice so no one other than Dermot and the old man could hear. “Find LeJuan Cannon before the cops do. Find him and put him somewhere for when Danny is able. Don’t harm a hair on the bastard’s head, don’t give him a bruise or a hangnail, but make sure he stays put.” She narrowed her eyes. “Will you do that for us?”

Xavier nodded slowly. “Aye, lass. I will do that for you.”

“I don’t know how close to being finished the men are at the condo, but would you light a fire under them, please? Danny is going to want to go to his own home tomorrow,” she asked.

“That would be best. I’ll see to it,” Johnny said behind her.

“Somehow I knew you would,” Kaycee mumbled.

* * * * *

Danny was lying so still when Kaycee entered his room she thought he was asleep, but then he turned his head toward her. He held his hand out to her.

“Hey there, good-looking,” she said cheerfully as she walked to the bed and took his hand. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead. “Don’t bother getting up.” She saw his lips move in an almost smile. Gripping his hand and bringing it to her chest, she used her free one to smooth the hair back from his forehead. “You’ll do just about anything to get people to wait on you, won’t you, you lazy man?”

This time he did smile, but it was fleeting and weak.

“Still queasy?” she asked, stroking his hair.

“A little,” he croaked as though he were very hoarse.

“Want some ice chips?”

“Nah.” His eyes closed.

“Wanna sleep?”

“Yeah.”

“Then sleep,” she said. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He opened his eyes. “Promise?”

“I’m not going anywhere, babe,” she said. “Can’t get rid of me like you can an old pair of sneaks.” She grinned. “Not that I believe you’ve ever thrown away a pair of old sneakers from the looks of your closet.”

He smiled and closed his eyes again, and within a few heartbeats was sound asleep.

“I think he was just waiting for you to come in before he let go.”

Kaycee turned her head to the nurse who had come in so quietly she hadn’t heard her. The woman went to the IV unit to check the drip flow. “Do you need anything, Mrs. Gallagher?” she asked.

The name threw Kaycee for a moment then made her heart swell with pride. She reasoned Uncle Mike had told the nursing staff she was Danny’s wife so there would be no problem with her spending the night in his room. “No, thank you. When you leave, would you ask the taller of the two men standing guard at the door to come in?” she asked softly.

“Certainly.”

It was Rickie who came into the room, apologizing for his partner Frankie, who had gone to the restroom. “Yes, ma’am?” he asked.

Kaycee eased her hand from Danny’s, put his on the bed and came over to the bodyguard. “I wanted to thank you for all you did.”

Rickie’s face turned red. “Ma’am, if we hadn’t gotten a flat…”

“Anyone can get a flat tire,” she interrupted. “No one is blaming you for that. I just wanted to thank you for your help and to ask the name of the young man who saved Danny’s life.”

“Aidan Donnelly,” Rickie replied.

“Would you ask him to come to the hospital and speak with me?” she asked. “I would…”

Frankie rushed into the room—eyes narrowed, hand under the suit coat he wore. He relaxed when he saw Rickie and realized everything was all right.

“I just wanted to thank you, Frankie, and before you say anything, don’t worry about the flat tire. It’s not an issue. I was just asking Rickie to have Aidan come see me. I want to personally thank him for saving Danny’s life.”

“It’s our job, ma’am,” Frankie said. “No need to thank us.”

“We’d have done it anyway,” Rickie said. “Mr. D. is a great guy.”

“Yeah, he is,” Frankie agreed.

“Also, would you find out what’s happening with regard to Jack Barnes? I don’t know if Danny said he was married or not.”

“Yes ma’am, he was,” Frankie said. “He was married to my sister Amanda.”

“Oh Frankie, I am so sorry,” Kaycee said, putting a hand to the young man’s shoulder. “Did he have any children?”

“Two sons.”

“Well, I know Danny’s gonna wanna know so please find out what you can about funeral arrangements. Please tell your sister if there’s anything we can do, just to let us know.”

“I imagine she’ll want Danny as a pallbearer,” Frankie said. “That is if he’s able.”

“Of course,” she said.

“I’ll go call Aidan,” Rickie said. “And, ma’am? Your bodyguards? The ones Mr. X. assigned to you? They’re at the elevator so no one is gonna be bothering you and Mr. D. You don’t have to worry.”

“I won’t,” she told. “Thank you, Rickie.”

“If you need anything, just holler,” Frankie said as he followed his partner out the door.

Kaycee went back to the bed and stood watching her lover sleep. He looked peaceful with his face relaxed, but now and again he would twitch, stiffen, and she wondered if he was reliving the events earlier in the day.

“I’m here, baby,” she whispered. “And you’re safe.”

Chapter Twelve

He was quiet on the ride out to the condo. His hand was clamped securely around Kaycee’s as he stared out the window. Every now and then, he would rub his free hand up and down his thigh. Dermot had brought new jeans, a T-shirt and clean socks and underwear to the hospital. Surprisingly, Danny had donned the boxers without a word.

Seeing her lover rubbing his thigh, she squeezed his hand to get his attention. When he looked around at her, she smiled. “I hate breaking in new jeans, don’t you?” Kaycee asked quietly.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned away from her again, continuing to rub his thigh.

“Does your leg hurt, baby?”

“No.” He stopped the incessant rubbing and seemed to make a conscious effort to refrain from starting up again. He clenched his fist and stuck it between him and the side of the car.

In the elevator on the ride up to his apartment, Frankie and Rickie stood in front of Danny and Kaycee like buffers. Two other bodyguards were already on Danny’s floor, awaiting them. Still silent, his eyes haunted and body stiff, Danny kept tight hold on Kaycee’s hand—seeming unwilling or unable to let it go. He said nothing to the guards who greeted him at his door, just walked into the great room with Kaycee behind him.

“Thanks, guys,” Kaycee said, and closed the door. “It’s good to be home.”

“Yeah,” Danny said quietly.

She stepped in front of him then slipped her arm around his waist. “How would you like homemade lasagna for supper, Mr. D.?” she asked.

“Don’t call me that,” he mumbled. “Lasagna. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Then why don’t you go into the bedroom and put on something more comfortable than those stiff new jeans and I’ll hie myself to the kitchen.”

“Hie?” he questioned, lips quirking. “You’re going to hie yourself, are you?”

“Aye, laddie,” she said in a phony Irish brogue. “I’ll be hieing meself to the kitchen now.” She kissed his cheek, slipped her hand from his and turned away.

He stood where he was for a moment then allowed his shoulders to slump. “I’m still feeling woozy, baby,” he called out. “I’m gonna lie down.”

“Leave the door open so I can hear you if you need me!” she yelled back.

For the next hour Kaycee worked vigorously to take her mind off the dark, hurtful shadows she’d seen in her man’s eyes. He looked like one of the walking wounded and it cut her to the quick to see the way he flinched at the smallest sound and seemed to have to steel himself to be touched by anyone other than her. She tried to get her mind off brutal images of him being assaulted, but they would not go away. By the time she had the stove turned low for the lasagna filling to simmer, she had gone over the scene in her subconscious more times than was healthy for her own state of mind.

Danny was lying on his side facing the doorway when she came into the bedroom. He’d taken off the jeans but kept on the T-shirt. The navy blue boxers fit him snugly and looked uncomfortable.

“Well, the filling is bubbling away for the next two hours,” she said as she kicked off her shoes and climbed onto the bed facing him. “I’ve got a killer oil and vinegar dressing made for our salad and I called down to have one of the guys fetch me four loaves of Italian bread so I can bake up some cheesy garlic bread.”

“Why do we need four loaves?” he asked, his voice sounding hollow, as if her answer really didn’t interest him but he was asking to be polite.

“There will be six of us eating those two pans of lasagna, babe.” At his confused look she rolled her eyes. “Danny, I’m not going to let the guards go hungry or order takeout. They’ll have a good meal while they are defending us from the powers of darkness. I’ll just send plates down to them.”