Chapter 54

Devolin

Pain. So much fiery pain. That’s what I woke up to.

“You know,” I heard whispered in my ear, “we really have to stop meeting like this.”

“Please tell me it’s over,” I whispered.

Dalton’s hand was clasped around mine. “It’s over, sweetheart.”

My entire body sighed with my relief, and everything went black in the back of that ambulance.

 

“Ms. Taylor?” A nurse walked into my room.

“Yes?”

“We’ve got a gentleman here who says he’s your fiancé.”

“My fiancé?”

The woman nodded. “He’s putting up quite a fuss out there and scaring the patients.”

There was only one person I knew who’d be like that. “Let him in.”

Dalton appeared in my hospital room’s doorway, looking beaten with worry, his clothes soiled by what I knew was blood––I’d been covered in it by the time they’d shown up––and defeated.

“Kip.” I extended my hand to him.

It seemed to be all he needed to move closer. He didn’t say anything. He simply took his seat next to me, holding my hand in both of his. Lifting it to his mouth, he began to kiss my bruised and scraped up knuckles. Opening my palm, he then pressed it to his cheek and held it there.

“You fucking scared the life out of me, sweetheart.” My thumb rubbed over his unkempt scruff. “I thought I’d lost you for good when I heard those shots.”

My breath burned in my throat at the tortured look on his face. “I should have come back after I shot that bruiser, and stayed,” I whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“You should have.” He turned his head to the side, kissing my wrist. “But I understand why you didn’t. Still…it doesn’t mean I liked it.”

I couldn’t help the small smirk that played at my lips. “I kind of got the sense of that from your messages.”

“I’ve been miserable without you,” he confessed.

“Kip?”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you too, baby,” I told him. “Now, kiss me.”

He didn’t hesitate. Leaning over me, his hand found that strand of hair of mine he loved to play with so much. “With pleasure.”

The moment our lips met, I knew we’d be okay.

Pulling away, Dalton’s eyes traveled my face studying me. “I wasn’t sure I’d get to do that again.”

“Mmm.” Arching my head up, I pressed my lips against his for another quick taste, before letting it drop to my pillow. Then I asked about what the nurse had told me. “So…fiancée?”

He shrugged. “They’re only letting family in to see you, I very well couldn’t tell them I was your brother.”

My eyes burned. “No, you couldn’t do that.” Swallowing the growing lump in my throat, I whispered the next thing to pop into my head. “I killed two people.”

“Shh.” Dalton covered my mouth with his fingers, his other hand tightening around the hand he had yet to let go of. “Shane’s on it. You’ll be in the clear before you leave here.”

I shook my head, tears sliding down my face. “There’s no coming back from that, Dalton.”

Staying true to the kind of man he is, he didn’t sugarcoat things. “You’ll never forget, sweetheart.” His eyes were flaming with fury, but they were gentle too. “It was you or them. They didn’t give you a choice to be who you are.”

My brows knitted together. “A killer?”

“No.” This came out sure and final. “A survivor.” I melted. “Some people give up. Some play along, thinking they’ll be set free if they conform to others’ demands. Others…they fight. You’re a fighter, Devolin. A survivor. You had an entire lifetime of practice, so it’s engrained in you.”

“I so fucking love you, you know,” I mumbled through my now steady-flowing tears.

“I so fucking love you too, sweetheart.”

 

“Has anyone called Mom?” I asked.

Hank sat on the chair next to my bed, while Morgan sat on the other, Theo standing behind his wife.

Shane had come looking for Dalton. Even though they’d been on task together, formalities with JPD needed to be observed. That meant my man had a statement to deliver.

“She flew back this morning.” A man I wouldn’t have recognized, if it weren’t for his eyes and hair, walked through the door. I shared the same hints of reds as him, his definitely greyer now however. “I’m sure she’ll be here shortly. I was on an earlier flight.”

I gulped. “D-dad?”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment grated on me, and I’m sure everyone knew it, what with the room growing thick with tension. After all this time, I only had two more words for the man who used to be my favorite person in the world. “Get out!”

“Dev—”

“The woman said to leave.” This came from Hank, who got to his feet, Theo coming to his side. A show of loyalty and protection.

I fucking loved these people. For the thousandth time today, I kicked myself for running when I had, even if at the time, I knew it was what I needed. My rest. Time to think things over, to simmer down from my snit.

“I want to talk to my little girl,” my father demanded.

“You don’t have a little girl,” I spat. “You had a daughter. One who you let rot in a hospital bed because you couldn’t deal with her illness. Now, I only have a mother. That’s all. Now get out!”

The room buzzed with awareness the moment my father reached into his back pocket. I guess anyone—law enforcement or military—would brace with such a move, especially when one of their own had just been shot. He pulled out his wallet, fished out a business card, and handed it to Hank.

“My number, if you need anything.” With one last glance my way, the man turned and left my room.

“So that’s your father, huh?” Hank pondered aloud.

“That’s dear ol’ Daddy all right!” I snickered.

“Seems nice enough a man,” he smirked.

I looked at him, Theo and Morgan and snort. “Oh sure,” I rant, “I get cancer twice, and the man bails. I graduate high school and college, the man never bothers. I end up in the hospital again with lupus because of the fucking cancer treatments, he still doesn’t care. But I get kidnapped, beaten, and shot at, and the man comes running? Yeah, a real winner. What the fuck!”

“Language, Devolin Payton Taylor!” my mother scolded, as she entered the room.

Theo lost his hold on his laughter, the sound making the walls shake as it exploded out of him. Hank was looking at me, a large grin on his face. Morgan was holding onto her stomach, giggling quietly.

“Oh, come on, Mom,” I snapped. “I think I’m entitled to a few choice words, don’t you?”

“Baby girl, I swear, when you leave this hospital, I’m locking you up.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Now why are you talking about your father, and what in the hell is going on?”