Chapter 16

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It’s not.

-The Lorax

Max

I closed my eyes and tried to block out the multiple wires and tubes covering the entirety of my daughter’s body. She was tiny. Undeniably tiny. My wedding ring fit on her ankle, she was that tiny. Payton’s wedding ring fit over her hand, but not quite over her knuckles. In fact, I was fairly certain she’d fit into a Route 44 cup from Sonic with ease.

 

“Your daughter is doing remarkably well for only twenty six weeks gestation. She’s weighing in at one pound fourteen ounces and she’s fourteen inches long. That’s normal size at this gestation. She’s on Vapotherm right now, and she’s trying very hard to breathe on her own. I’m just plain amazed at this. Most preemies aren’t this well-adjusted in the beginning. You have a fighter on your hands.” Dr. Murray told me.

 

The thing covering her nose looked like it hurt. I didn’t want her to hurt. God, she was so freaking small.

 

“It’s not hurting her?” I asked gruffly.

 

“No. I assure you, it all looks bad, but she’s fine. The tube in her mouth is feeding her intravenously. If she does well on this, then we will try her out on syringes. Do you know if her mom was wanting to do breast milk or not? We have an excellent donor program here. Milk is screened and tested beforehand.” He said.

 

I shook my head, confused. “I don’t know. Is this not something Payton can do?”

 

“From what I understand, she’s unconscious. Now, we can probably pump from her, but that’s something you would need to discuss with her doctor first. But, if he allows it, then we certainly would love to get it from mom.” Dr. Murray said as he consulted his chart.

 

I finally worked up the courage and asked him what I’d been yearning to do. “Can I hold her?”

 

He smiled sadly. “Absolutely. She’s doing exceptionally well; most babies this age you wouldn’t be able to hold for weeks. You’ve washed before you even entered the room. She’s stable, and the best thing that can be done right now is what they call kangaroo care. That’s where you have skin-to-skin contact with the baby. Normally, it’s the mom that does it, but in this case you will do nicely.”

My phone beeped, and I looked at the message. It was from Jessie, who was staying with Payton. She’d taken a picture and sent it to me. I’d asked her to send me periodic updates. I didn’t care that she was still asleep. I needed the reassurance.

 

The picture was of Tony holding Payton’s hand in his, and he was kissing her forehead. Tears stung my eyes as I saw the purpling bruises on her face and neck. I typed out a quick reply, and shoved it back into my pocket.

 

It killed me that I couldn’t be with both of them, but I knew Payton would want me to be exactly where I am. She would never want our child alone when she was this new and small.

 

“This is Eleanor. She’s our most senior NICU nurse. She’ll help you get…” He looked at me questioningly.

 

I smiled. The first genuine smile I’d had since we left her parents’ house. He wanted her name. Thinking about the discussion we had when she told me how it was going to be, lifted my spirits a bit.

 

“Harleigh Belle.”

 

“Well isn’t that unique,” She said smiling. “Payton sure loves talking about you. She comes in during her lunch break and visits with all of our rug rats. My husband owns Kawasaki Motors on the corner of 80 and Bill Owens. I was there that time last year that y’all auctioned off that beauty of a bike at the rally in Tulsa.” She rambled on and on as she went about straightening wires and cords around Harleigh’s incubator.

 

The rally she was speaking of was the one where we donated a bike for auction, and made a pretty penny on. It was in honor of a fallen brother of ours, and every member of Free worked on that bike to make it special. The proceeds we collected after auction went to the daughter of the fallen soldier.

 

“Is your husband Joe?” I asked.

 

“Sure is, do you know him?” She asked as she opened the doors. “Come over here. Lose the shirt first. This is how we’ll do it. First, I want you to put those wires there over your left arm. Then, you’ll gently scoop her up in your hands, and lay her against your chest.”

 

I did as instructed. My palms supported her entire body with room to spare; she was so damn small it made my stomach ache. Her skin was translucent and I could see every vein running underneath her skin. Her hair was dark brown, just like Payton’s, minus the bright green highlights that is.

 

“Good! Now, just transfer her to your chest. Perfect. Have a seat, and I’ll situate these wires around you.”

Transferring one hand to support her tiny little bottom, I pulled my phone out and handed it to Eleanor. “Will you take some pictures for me; I want to show them to my wife when she wakes up.”

 

After taking dozens of pictures, she left me with Harleigh, informing me to press the red call button if I needed anything.

 

“Oh, Harleigh. Your mommy and I love you.” I whispered and kissed her head.

 

I sat like that until they kicked me out four hours later.

 

“We will use the breast milk that we collect from Payton. We’ll be doing it every two hours or so. Her doctor said that would be perfectly all right, and we love it when babies can have mom’s milk. Feel free to call us anytime to check on her. Visiting hours open back up at seven in the morning.” Eleanor explained to me as she walked me out later that evening.

 

I nodded and thanked her, making my way across the hall to the ICU. According to Jessie, Payton was in the first room on the right. I stopped outside the door, scared shitless to see her. I wanted my rambunctious Payton. Not a hurt Payton.

 

Murmurs came from around the corner, and I recognized James’ voice. I would have ignored it, but it sounded tense, and unsure. “We’ve got to tell him. We just plain have to.”

 

“He just got in a god damned wreck. What do you think he’s going to do when he hears about this?” Sam demanded.

 

I stopped short as I heard that. I didn’t want to interrupt and risk the chance of not hearing what was going on, so I stopped.

 

“You’re probably right, but he has a right to know.” James fumed.

 

This would just continue if I didn’t make them tell me. I rounded the corner, and stopped dead when I saw everyone there. It was a waiting room of some kind. Half-empty coke bottles, candy wrapper trash, and chips bags surrounded everyone in the room. Blaine and Elliott were curled together on the furthest love seat. Sam, Cheyenne, and their youngest were on the floor with their backs to the wall. Jack, Gabe, Ember, and LG were on a couch. Payton’s dad and brother were leaning against the wall closest to the door, and the kids were all wandering about playing.

 

“Max!” Ember exclaimed, as she threw herself out of the chair.

 

I caught her in my arms and buried my face into her hair, ignoring the pain that wracked my body with the contact. My eyes started to sting, but I choked it back, and took a breath to steady myself.

 

“Tell me what’s going on.” I whispered to her.

 

She looked at me, and then placed her hand on my cheek just like our mom used to do.

 

“Tell him.”

 

She wrapped her arm around my waist in silent support, and Sam sighed in aggravation.

 

“I’ll have your word that you won’t do anything until tomorrow morning.” He demanded.

 

He looked wary. In fact, he looked like he’d gotten into a fight.

 

Surveying the room, I found that Jack, Gabe, Elliott, James, and even Tony did, too.

 

“What the hell is going on?” I asked nervously.

 

“Your word.” Sam commanded.

 

“I won’t. Now tell me.” I said roughly.

 

He took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. “Our surveillance saw a lifted Ford Excursion retuning to the abandoned hotel we’ve been monitoring. It left in pristine condition, and returned in near totaled condition. O’Hare was the one who got out.”

 

I processed that for a moment, and then breathed in deeply through my mouth, and then letting it out slowly. “What happened to y’all?”

 

“We took it upon ourselves to have her partners taken in for drunk and disorderly down at The Watering Hole.” James smiled.

 

What he really meant was that he started a fight with them; then when Luke showed up, they were arrested and our boys weren’t.

 

“So, where’s O’Hare?” I asked.

 

“Still at the hotel. Hasn’t left.” Tony said.

 

“How do you know?” I asked him.

 

I was sure I knew the answer, but I still wanted confirmation.

 

“Luke.”

 

“So, he’s arresting her?” I asked him.

“Yes. He has sufficient evidence with the car in the parking lot, and the fact that the building is abandoned. Witnesses at the scene confirmed the make and model, and that there was a woman driving.” Sam said.

 

I nodded. This was it. She was going to be arrested. If she was arrested, then I would never have to deal with her again. Which, to most, would be a good thing. However, I didn’t feel that she deserved prison. That bitch needed to fry. I needed to get my shit together though, because this wasn’t a good attitude to have at this moment.

 

“I’m going to be with Payton until they kick me out.” I said to the room as a whole, and left.

***

The door shut silently behind Jessie, and I finally worked up the courage to look at Payton.

 

An IV ran from her left hand up to what looked like grey box, which the nurse had informed me was her pain pump. I remembered having one when I was in the hospital after the helicopter crash. Her face was swollen and bruised. Her left arm was in a sling against her chest. A blanket covered her from the chest down; luckily, she didn’t have any other injuries.

 

Fuck that. She wasn’t lucky. She coded. Her brain was god damned bleeding. Her liver was bleeding. She was in a coma. How was that lucky?

 

Dropping down heavily in the seat next to her bed, I picked up her hand and brought it up to my face. I curled her palm around my cheek, and longed for her to scratch my beard, as she knew I liked. She didn’t though.

 

I held her hand for another hour; until her nurse came in and told me visiting hours were over. She told me that she would send the milk they were able to pump over to the NICU, and that they’d call me if anything changed, or I was needed.

 

I slogged slowly down to the entrance, and found myself without a ride. Everyone had left an hour ago, and I didn’t know what the hell to do. I was so lost. My head still pounded in time with the beat of my heart. Each inhalation of air into my lungs sent a burning sting through my chest and ribs.

 

I sat down, heavily, on the bench outside the ER entrance and waited for my ride. James pulled up an hour later, yet I didn’t get up. He finally got tired of my crap and yelled at me through the partially rolled down window. I smiled at his name for me, and shuffled to the car.

 

It rhymed with trucker, and was actually quite eloquent.

 

Just as I reached for the door handle, I dropped my phone onto the concrete and cursed. Bending to retrieve it, a familiar sounding zing sailed past the top of my head. I dropped low and tapped the side of the car hard once, letting James know that I was okay. The passenger door opened and James practically fell out.

 

“Came from the West side of the building.” He said producing a twenty-two rifle that he used for squirrel hunting on occasion.

 

“Just got ‘er sighted in, too!” He smiled manically.

 

Awe, fuck.

 

He handed me a range finder, then dropped to his belly underneath the car. I followed suit, used the tires for cover, and scanned the area.

 

“Two o’clock.” I said to him.

 

There she was. Partially hidden behind the side of the building. My phone rang underneath me, and I dug it out of my pocket while keeping my eye on O’Hare.

 

I pressed answer and set it down next to me on the concrete. Luke’s voice filled the night air. “Don’t kill her if you can help it.”

 

“She’s on the west side of the building.” I answered quietly.

 

“We can see her, and you. No clear shot though. Take what you can, just try not to kill her. We’ve got civilians out the ass over here.” He ground out.

 

Seconds ticked by as I measured the wind speed and the distance, and then gave him the stats.

 

“Got it.” James said.

 

His finger slowly pulled the trigger, and then a shout of pain filled the night air.

 

“Got her. Left cheek.”

 

Not fatal, but enough to incapacitate her until Luke could get to her.

 

“Got her.” Luke said through the phone.

 

I hung up on him, and crawled out from under the truck. James handed out the rifle, then stood up; smiling as if he’d just won the lottery.

 

“You’re so full of yourself.” I muttered and handed the rifle back to him.

 

He laughed. “You just wish you had my awesomeness to call your own.”

He expertly unloaded it, and we went to find Luke.

 

“You shot me in the face!” O’Hare screamed hysterically.

 

“I shot your cheek. You won’t even have a problem eating by morning.” James said as we walked up.

 

She hissed at him, and went on moaning that her face was falling off. Luke strode up to us, and James handed him the rifle.

 

“If you don’t give that back by Tuesday, I’ll run out of food to eat.”

 

“I’ll be sure to have it back to you ASAP. In the meantime, you can borrow mine.” Luke joked.

 

James gave him a droll look. “That one was already sighted in to perfection. I’d have to take yours to the shooting range, then spend hours perfecting it. Not gonna happen.”

 

Two hours later, O’Hare was stitched up and sitting in a jail cell at KPD.

 

“Why?” I asked her.

 

“Fuck you.” She sneered.

 

I sat down and watched her quietly.

 

“A two year old. A pregnant woman. A newborn. What do you have against children?” I tried again.

 

“Fuck you.”

 

“Such a nice vocabulary you have there.” I chided.

 

Standing, I pressed my index finger just under the bullet hole in her cheek. “Try again?”

 

“Go to hell.”

 

“O’Hare. Do you even know what you’ve done?” I asked.

 

“Of course I know what I’ve done!” She snapped.

 

“So you know you caused a pregnant woman to have an emergency C-section and deliver her child over three months early? You know you broke a two year old’s arm, and she had to have surgery on it to get it straight again?” I said, and then continued. “You know that my wife is in ICU fighting for her life? What exactly did they do to you?”

She stayed stubbornly silent.

 

“So the CIA doesn’t want you. The Army doesn’t want you. Your own men don’t want you. You know they were picked up yesterday for a bar fight? Yeah, they were all thoroughly drunk and were quite chatty.”

 

Her eyes narrowed, but otherwise showed no reaction.

 

“You realize we don’t need your statement, correct? We have enough on you to charge you with four counts of attempted murder, breaking and entering, kidnapping, destruction of property…” I said.

 

I could have gone on, but honestly, what was the point?

 

Standing, I made my way to the door before she stopped me with her next statement.

 

“Your name is the same as the man who raped me.” She said quietly.

 

Well that sucked balls, but that was no reason to take it out on a man who was innocent.

 

“Enjoy your stay. Don’t drop the soap.” I said as I left the interrogation room.

 

Her snarl of outrage was cut off abruptly as I closed the door.

 

“Don’t drop the soap?” Elliott teased.

 

“I’ve got to get back to the hospital. They’re going to take Payton off the drugs that are inducing her coma in two hours. Visiting hours open for the NICU in twenty minutes. Who’s taking me?”

 

“I will. I want to stop by someone’s room while I’m there.” Sam volunteered.

 

“Don’t you think you should go home and change?” James asked.

 

I looked down at the dirty scrubs that I’d procured earlier and grimaced. I really should be clean; I didn’t want the NICU nurses looking at me as if I was inept.

 

“Yes, take me home first, and then we’ll go as soon as I’m done.” I told Sam.

 

He nodded in acceptance, but otherwise stayed quiet as we made our way out of the police station. We’d just reached Sam’s truck when the deep rumbling growl of Harley pipes entered the police parking lot. We both looked up and stiffened when we saw Sam’s dad pulled up beside us and shut the bike off.

 

He regarded both of us for a few moments before saying, “They’re going to take her back in. She knows too much.”

 

Sam’s dad looked older than when I’d last seen him a year or so ago. Still sporting the salt and pepper hair color, but the creases around his mouth and eyes showed the harshness that his life produced.

 

Sam didn’t answer, and neither did I. I’d hoped that they wouldn’t do that, but if I was being completely honest, I would say I wasn’t surprised. The CIA was a complex network of people. You could be off the grid and still be a part of them. They never let you go, even when you retired. So, for me to believe that she’d stay in prison was a joke. I could only hope that the CIA would kill her instead of letting her go.

 

“And what do you propose?” Sam asked quietly.

 

“Nothing. She nearly killed your brother’s child. Sebastian won’t let that go.”

 

“What the fuck do you mean when you say brother?” Sam snarled.

 

“There is so much you don’t know. Just know this, I never once, not once, hurt you or your mother. Fucking think. In the meantime, we’ll take out the trash.” Pipes roared as he started the Harley up and hauled ass out of the parking lot.

 

“Get in.” He said.

 

I did as I was told, and kept my mouth shut. He didn’t want, nor need, my input right now. Sam’s dad just gave him something heavy to chew on. The perception to a child is different when you see it through the eyes of an adult. If what Sam’s father said was true, then what he’d believed all of his life was a total lie. His mother might not be the innocent little rabbit she’d claimed to be.