Chapter Eighteen
“I don’t care if the fucking Pope calls me,” Deputy Blackwater bit out, spitting on Smoke’s face. “You killed two of our officers, and you’re going to pay for it in every way I can come up with.”
And Blackwater was determined to make sure everyone believed it. Normally, Smoke would just wait the bastard out. He was good at waiting. Patience was a prized trait in a soldier, and he had it in spades.
But Blackwater was too angry, and if it weren’t for the sheriff and three or four deputies hanging out in the small dark room he was being questioned in, Blackwater would likely act on that anger. Not that the other men would stop him, but they were witnesses.
Kini had better be taking care of herself, or he was going to tan her bottom when he caught up to her. That woman wouldn’t hesitate to work herself to the bone, make herself sick. Sooner or later, someone was going to go over Blackwater’s head, give the sheriff a clue, and he’d have to release Smoke. He hoped it would be sooner.
Someone knocked on the door.
Blackwater ignored it to get into Smoke’s face again. “I want to know why you did it.”
Another knock, along with a man calling the sheriff’s name.
“Fuck off, Domingo,” Blackwater shouted. “We’re still questioning this piece of shit.”
The sheriff left his position, leaning against a wall, and went to the door. “What?”
The door opened wide enough for the guy to say, “Sir, Dr. Gordon is on the phone for you. He says the CDC is on its way and that he needs you to convince people to stay home.”
“Dr. Gordon?”
“He was the only doctor in town for years,” Blackwater said. “He’s retired.”
The cop in the doorway said, “The doc on duty died during the night, so they called Gordon in,” the fresh-faced officer standing in the doorway said. “There’s also a Kini Kerek here to see the prisoner.”
“That bitch is working with this asshole,” Blackwater snarled.
“Language,” the sheriff said, a warning note in his voice.
The deputy cleared his throat, “Sir, one more thing. An agent Dozer from Homeland Security called. He spoke to me and said that if you don’t call him back in the next ten minutes, he’ll be on the first plane out here with a dozen of their agents and twice that from the FBI.”
“Is that so?” The sheriff looked thoughtful as he glanced at Blackwater. “Anything else?”
“And,” Officer Domingo continued in a small voice, “he also said he’ll set up his command post in your office.”
Shit, Dozer was pissed off.
Smoke had to work not to laugh.
“Everyone is sure in a goddamned hurry to start a ruckus today.” The sheriff strode out the door.
Blackwater’s face looked hot enough to start a fire. “Fuck.” He paced away then came back to the table to hiss at Smoke, “Fucking Homeland Security. This is my town and no snotty asshole is going to take over just because they work for Homeland Security.” Blackwater leaned closer and said very softly, “You’re going to pay for what you did to my sister.”
“Didn’t do anything.”
His words made Blackwater madder. “That’s right, nothing. You didn’t do a fucking thing for her. Always gone and never here when she needed you. Then you re-upped. Instead of coming home to take care of your family, you chose to stay in the army. It was your fault Lacey started drinking. Your fault she and Liam died.”
Smoke didn’t react. Anything he said or did would be viewed as an attack. He couldn’t tell Blackwater that Lacey had had a problem with alcohol from the beginning. Couldn’t tell him she refused marriage. She hadn’t wanted to be tied down to one man. Every time he’d been home, she had a new boyfriend and he wasn’t welcome.
Blackwater stormed out of the room, shoving another deputy out of the doorway and slamming the door against the wall. The silence resulting from his departure was a relief. Smoke closed his eyes and catnapped.
Until he heard Kini shouting, “You can’t arrest me for doing my job!”
Smoke’s eyes popped open, and he realized the door to the room was ajar.
“You’re the cause of the fucking outbreak,” Blackwater yelled back. “You and the CDC created this mess, and now you expect us to cooperate?”
“We didn’t create anything. My being here and the outbreak is a coincidence, nothing more.”
“Bullshit.”
Smoke could hear Kini’s frustrated sigh from where he sat. “Why won’t you believe me? You’ve been accusing me of being the cause of the outbreak since the moment I met you. Why?”
“I’ve got friends. Friends in interesting places. One of them told me the CDC was conducting experiments out here designed to make people sick.”
“That’s unconscionable, illegal, not to mention ridiculous.” Her voice rose as she asked, “Why would we do that?”
“Money, why else.” His voice was filled with a sneer. “Your employer wants a bigger piece of the budget pie.”
“I don’t know anything about the funding we get from the government, but making people sick on purpose?” She paused, and Smoke could hear her breathing as she tried to control her emotions. “I took an oath to do no harm, and I take that oath very seriously. Everyone I work with has dedicated themselves to the pursuit of fighting disease in an ethical manner. Your friend is mistaken.”
Blackwater was silent for several seconds.
Kini had been smart to avoid accusing this source/friend of lying outright.
“He said there was proof.” Blackwater didn’t sound any closer to believing her than when they’d started arguing.
“What proof? No…wait.” She paused. “Unless your friend is a health professional with experience in infectious diseases, any documentation he might have would be difficult to interpret correctly on his own.”
“He’s not a dummy.”
“Neither am I, but though I drive a car, I wouldn’t know the first thing about rebuilding its engine. Show me this proof.”
“I don’t have it,” Blackwater said through his teeth.
“There is no proof that Smoke is your killer, either.” She sounded ready to rip his face off.
“Deputy Blackwater,” interrupted the sheriff. “Take a coffee break. Now.”
Blackwater swore as he walked away, the sound of his footsteps retreating. Smoke relaxed for the first time since he’d arrived in Small Blind’s police station.
Kini’s head popped around the doorjamb. Relief surged through his system, leaving him high on just the sight of her.
“There you are,” she said, her voice heavy with relief. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Smoke said dryly. “They haven’t had time to get the tar and feathers out yet.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Baiting Blackwater in front of the sheriff isn’t going to win you any points.”
Her bruises had gotten more colorful, making her look sick. He wanted to make her sit, preferably on his lap so he could hold her, but her jaw was set and he knew she’d shoot any such suggestion down.
She got stubborn when she was angry.
“I wasn’t baiting him. I meant everything I said.” She harrumphed. “It’s officially an outbreak. The CDC is on its way, and you and I are supposed to be assisting local health care until they arrive.”
Shit, that alone was going to keep them busy.
Kini glanced at the door, so Smoke did, too, but no one was there.
“What do you think that agent is telling the sheriff?” she asked in a whisper.
“To rein in his boy and pull his head out of his ass,” Smoke said, not bothering to lower his voice. He didn’t care if the sheriff and every cop in the building heard him. They’d screwed things up so bad, they’d put themselves into shit creek without a fucking boat. “Arguing with him doesn’t help,” Smoke said with a pointed look.
“Excuse me?” she said, frowning. “I was defending you.”
“I know that, but I can defend myself just fine. Having them pissed at both of us is just stupid.”
“Stupid?” she asked in a soft voice that told him he was in big trouble. “Really? Well, fuck you very much.”
“Kini, wait—I didn’t mean that you’re stupid, just the situation—”
“Don’t apologize when you’re not sorry.”
Smoke rubbed his hands over his face. Anything he said now was only going to make it worse. “What’s the ETA of our backup?”
She stared at him before looking at her watch. “It’ll be another seven hours before the advance team gets here.”
“That’s a long time.”
“Too long.”
Yeah, she was still mad.
“Kini—” Smoke began, but the sheriff stormed into the room.
He glanced at Smoke then at Kini. “Out. Both of you.” He looked Smoke square in the eyes. “Stay out of trouble, or I’ll let Blackwater have another crack at you.”
Smoke got to his feet and urged Kini out the door with a hand to the small of her back. This close to her, he could feel her body heat, and he tried not to let it show how much he liked it.
Officer Domingo handed him his ID, his weapons, and cell phone, but didn’t say a word.
Smoke nodded at the kid and said quietly, “Watch your six. I didn’t kill your guys, but someone did.”
Domingo glanced over his shoulder, but neither the sheriff or Blackwater was in sight. “It was up close and personal,” he said, swallowing hard. “There was gunshot residue on their foreheads.”
“What does that mean?” Kini asked.
“Whoever shot them stood within five feet.” Smoke shook his head. “And was familiar with police procedure if they got that close.”
“That’s the part that has me worried,” Domingo said.
“Good,” Smoke told him. “Use it to stay focused and aware.”
“Is the CDC really coming?”
“Absolutely,” Kini said. “The advance team will be here this afternoon. The rest will arrive tomorrow.”
The kid looked relieved.
“If anyone asks, tell people not to panic. Stay home if they can and stay away from any environment that might contain mice or mouse droppings.”
“That’s like, everywhere.”
He heard the fear in the young officer’s voice and agreed with him. Nowhere was safe.
They left the building.
His jeep was parked near the door. “Have you been to the hospital?” He unlocked the doors and got in.
She nodded, a jerky motion as she got into the passenger seat, but didn’t say anything. The cold expression on her face, along with her arms crossed over her chest, could have set a block of ice on fire.
“What?” he asked, key in hand, but not in the ignition.
She turned her glare on him. “Those idiots are going to get people killed.”
Smoke raised a brow and waited for her to explain.
She stared at him, then rolled her eyes and sighed. “Blackwater, the sheriff, they aren’t listening, they aren’t thinking, they’re reacting, and those reactions are…dangerous.”
He found nothing to disagree with in her assessment. “Yeah.” He started the jeep and pulled out of the lot.
“What are we going to do about it?”
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Excuse me?”
“The sheriff doesn’t believe us. Won’t believe us, so we leave him to those he will believe.” He considered that, then revised his statement a little. “We leave him to those whose orders he has to follow.”
When she didn’t respond, he added, “You and I don’t have time to hand-hold the sheriff or Blackwater. We have other responsibilities.”
It took a few seconds, but she finally relaxed a fraction. “Stupid assholes suck.”
Smoke allowed one corner of his mouth to rise. “Yup.”
A couple of minutes later, he pulled into the hospital parking lot, but there wasn’t a single spot left open. He was forced to park on the street a block away.
As they went inside via the emergency entrance, they grabbed surgical masks from a large box sitting next to the door and put them on.
The waiting room was standing room only. Some people slept in the chairs that were scattered around the space while others yelled at the staff, demanding help, drugs, a doctor, or in the case of one elderly lady, anyone with enough brains to switch on a light.
Smoke had to use his size to create a way through the crowd. Kini grabbed hold of the back of his shirt and hung on. It made him want to smile, which in the middle of this disaster was a fucking miracle.
They eventually broke through the throng and walked into the exam area, but the scene here wasn’t much better. Only the staff were doing most of the yelling.
Kini came out from behind him to approach an old man dressed in scrubs and a lab coat. He wore a surgical mask, so Smoke couldn’t see most of his face, but he looked familiar.
“Dr. Gordon?” Kini asked. “Has anyone been assigned to lead the CDC team in when they get here?”
Shit, Dr. Gordon was something close to ninety years old. He’d retired years ago. What the hell was he doing here?
He looked at her blankly for a moment before blinking and saying, “No, I don’t think so.” He glanced around. “We have so few people working, I haven’t been able to spare anyone…”
“Smoke and I will take care of it.”
His hand landed on the small of Kini’s back. “A moment?”
She led the way to an unoccupied bathroom, went inside, and held the door open for him. “I figure this is as much privacy as we’re going to get.”
He followed her in, and she closed the door. He captured one of one her hands. “You tell me when you need a break or something to eat or drink. Keeping yourself healthy is important.”
She blinked up at him. Surprise and something else, sadness maybe, crossed her face. “Okay. Thank you.”
Why would a reminder to take care of herself make her sad?
They left the bathroom and dove into the fray, both of them assisting in organizing the incoming patients.
The next few hours were a blur of names and faces filled with fear. Twice, Smoke made Kini take a few minutes’ break to eat something. The first time, about two hours in, her face went bleach white and she swayed on her feet. He took her by the arm, walked her out of the ER altogether, and made her sit on the front step of the building in the sunshine.
He handed her a bottle of water and a granola bar he’d gotten from the vending machines and ordered, “Eat, drink, rest.”
She frowned at him. “You’re not the boss of me.”
The image of her face from this morning as she climaxed hit him square in the chest and he smiled. “Sometimes I’m the boss of you.”
Her pale cheeks infused with pink, and she swiped the water and food out of his hands. Her gaze seemed caught on the ground, as if something there was speaking to her, then she chuckled. “You make me laugh.”
“Do I?”
She glanced at him. “Yeah. It’s a surprise every time, too.”
“Why?”
It took her a minute to respond, and when she did, it was barely above a whisper. “My father was a soldier. He came home a different person. A broken person. He tried to put himself back together, but some of his pieces weren’t just broken, they were missing.” She inhaled deeply, like something sat on her chest, making it impossible to take in another breath. Finally she said, “I don’t know what the last straw was, I only know he shot my mom, then himself in front of me.”
“Fuck.” The word came out of Smoke’s mouth like a bullet out of a gun. “I must be your worst nightmare.”
“No.” The answer came out of her with surprising certainty.
He searched her face for evidence of polite lies.
“My father had no control over himself, no connection with us, and no conscience to guide him.” She pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around them, then laid her head on them. “It was as if something had been ripped out of him or died, leaving the rest of him without an anchor. So when he crashed and burned, he took us with him.” Tears leaked out of her eyes.
Smoke watched her. “How old were you?”
“Ten.”
“A child.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know which of us is in a worse place,” he said at last. “You, a victim of violence, or me, a man who uses violence as a tool and a weapon. Only, I’m scared that if I pick up that weapon, I’ll forget how to put it down.”
“Forget how to…what does that mean?”
“I know a few guys who, after leaving the military, discovered the military wouldn’t leave them. They began taking small protection jobs and security details. But without the structure, support, and a supervisor they have to answer to, eventually, most of those guys ended up dead, here.” He tapped his temple. “After that, it wasn’t long, and they’d be all the way dead. You get me?”
“Yeah, I get it. All those men who’d gone to war hoping to change the world, and ended up broken by it.” Her expression closed down, leaving her shuttered.
He didn’t like that, not a bit, but if he wanted more than a casual fling with her, he was going to have to open up to her, too.
What did he really want?
He wanted her, lock, stock, and barrel, but he had so much fucking baggage to deal with he needed a transport truck just to move it. It wasn’t fair to ask her to deal with his shit. That didn’t mean he couldn’t get to know her better in the hours they had left. Maybe in a few months…
He studied her, shouldering the horrors of her childhood like any soldier and carrying on.
“I lost…” Goddamn, the words didn’t want to come out of his mouth. “My son a couple of years ago.”
Kini put a hand on his thigh and rested it there, lending him something he hadn’t been offered by anyone outside his battle brethren. Strong, silent, steady support.
He took in a breath and let the words flow out of him. “Lacey and Liam were on their way home from a friend’s house when they drove head-on into an eighteen-wheeler on the highway. She was driving and drunk.”
Kini’s hand on him tightened. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s my fault, and it’s why Blackwater hates me. Lacey was his sister.”
She recoiled. “What do you mean, it was your fault? Were you here?”
“No. I was deployed.”
“Then you couldn’t have—”
“I wasn’t here,” he said, his voice breaking. “I wasn’t here.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I was never here.”
“You aren’t responsible for the actions of anyone other than you,” she told him. “Trust me, I know.”
Silence sat between them, an unwelcome ghost filled with grief and guilt.
“I don’t want to be one of those guys looking for a way to die,” he whispered after a few minutes. “But I don’t know how to live this life”—he pointed at the ground—“anymore. After my son died…I couldn’t…I can’t let my emotions go. I’ll fly apart.”
She took one of his hands in hers and stroked her thumbs over that taut skin until he relaxed and tangled his hand with hers.
“The worst part of surviving when someone you love dies is the guilt,” she said softly. “It invades every organ like a cancer and tears you up inside until you’re as dead as the one you mourn.”
Her words battered the ice wall around his heart and lungs.
“Take me for example,” she said, with a smile that wavered. “I work a job that keeps me constantly on the move. It’s the only way I feel safe, but it’s not what I want. I want children, a home, and a man who loves me despite my weirdness.”
That sounded pretty good, but to a soldier like him, a man who could never unsee or undo the things he’d seen and done, it was just a dream. A good and noble and honest dream, but one that would be always out of reach.
“I think that’s what any of us want.” He put an arm around her. He didn’t have all the right words to make any of this easier, but he did have a couple of shoulders she could cry on.
Tears streamed down her face as her body shook with silent sobs. Her arms went around his neck, and he pulled her close. Close enough for her scent to invade every cell in his body. Close enough for every hiccup and shake of her body to feel like they were coming from inside of him.
Eventually, she quieted, wiped her face, and nodded to tell him she was ready to go back to work.
The second time Smoke had to make her take a break, she didn’t resist at all. She drank the water and ate another granola bar with robotic motions, then got back to work.
He watched her close. She was running out of energy and it showed.
About seven o’clock in the evening, her cell phone began to buzz.
“Hello.” She nodded. “Yes, ma’am. We’ll meet you at the main entrance.” She ended the call. “That was Dr. Rodrigues. They’re ten minutes away.”
“Good.” It was about time they got here. There wasn’t much between Small Blind and Las Vegas but flat highway and the odd tumbleweed.
Kini looked at herself and groaned. “She’s going to take one look at me and order me off this outbreak.”
“That’s bad?” Hell, he wanted her ordered off this outbreak.
“I’ve been chased by dogs, had my tires slashed, then someone blew up my car, leaving me looking like I’ve been attacked by a serial killer. I’m invested, Smoke. I want to know what the hell is going on.”