Chapter Eighteen
The nurses kept telling him that Mal was fine, but he wouldn’t believe them until they finally let him see her. She came and took his hand in both of hers, squeezing firmly as if she wasn’t ever going to let go. Her tears just about killed him. Because he didn’t want to ever give her cause to cry again.
“They didn’t hurt you? Did they? You’re really all right?”
“Oh, sugar.” She kissed the back of his hand. “How could they have hurt me when you shielded me with your own body until I was inside?”
“I’m sorry.” The words choked him, his throat raw. Pain was nothing, danger was nothing. As long as she was safe. He’d put her in harm’s way just by being with him. He wanted to tell her that it’d never happen again, that he’d already gotten a new job. But Elias stepped up and squeezed his other shoulder.
“Don’t even think it. You did the best you could, and you were right. You got the shooter. Greaves is leading the calvary to wipe the streets on the East side as we speak. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there with you, partner.”
“What, so you could both get shot?” Mal retorted.
“Mal’s right.” Colby tried to keep his eyes open, but the happy drugs must be kicking in. “Not your fault. Not anybody’s fault. Can’t be responsible for everybody and everything that happens.”
Mal kissed his knuckles again, wetting his skin with her tears.
“He needs to rest now,” the nurse said firmly. Colby managed to peel his eyes open enough to see the firm, I’m-not-leaving look on Mal’s face. The nurse blinked, nodded, and shooed everybody else out.
Elias scooted a chair over for her, and Mal sat close, holding Colby’s hand with her left, so she could stroke his cheek with her other hand. “I may never let you out of my sight again, sugar.”
He smiled as he drifted away. That’d be all right by me.
Mal jerked awake when the door opened and three people rushed in. An older man, undeniably Colby’s father, his mother, and a young girl around eight or nine years old, a blonde, blue-eyed cutie. Braced for nastiness, Mal stood, trying not to wince at the kinks in her back. She had no idea how Colby’s family would take him dating an older-than-him black woman, but chances were good that they’d never approve. Another bridge they’d have to cross.
“Shhh,” Colby’s mother told the other man. “Don’t wake him.” She turned to Mal, a hesitant but polite smile on her face as she whispered, “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“I’m Malinda Kannes. I’m…” His Mistress? Girlfriend? Fiancée? That’s what she wanted to say, but would he be all right with coming out like that to his family?
“I’m Sarah, my husband David, and granddaughter, Amelia. Have you talked to the doctor?”
Mal started to move away from the bed so not to wake Colby, but as soon as she tried to let go of his hand, his eyes opened, and he clung harder to her.
“Mom, Dad?”
“Hey, son. Sorry it took us awhile to get here.”
His father patted him gruffly on the shoulder and his mother burst into tears. She leaned down, hugging him, and he awkwardly tried to hug her back, but the tubes in his other arm caught on the bed rail. “I’m fine, Mom. Really. This is my girlfriend, Mal.”
The granddaughter’s baby blues widened. David’s mouth fell open. Sarah straightened slowly, giving Mal a long once over. She could almost feel the temperature dipping in the room.
But then Amelia squealed and launched herself against Mal, practically squeezed the life out of her. “Finally! Mom always says she’s given up on Uncle Colby ever settling down!”
Colby’s cheeks actually reddened, the flush stark against his pale skin. “No one said anything about settling down.” Though he met Mal’s gaze with a look that she swore meant that he wasn’t going anywhere. Ever.
David came over and took her hand in his. “No, they haven’t, but we know you, son. You’ve never introduced anyone as your girlfriend to us. Only friend. Even Becky, that girl you dated back in high school for almost a year. You might as well have said fiancée as far as I’m concerned. Mal, welcome to the family.”
Sarah came over and gripped Mal’s arms, staring into her eyes a moment. Whatever she saw in Mal’s eyes, it made her tear up, and then Mal got a little weepy again too. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything but call 911.”
Silent understanding shone in Sarah’s eyes. The look of a mother who’d worried about her son for a long time, but had been unable to help him.
“If you hadn’t been there, I might have bled out.” Colby squeezed her hand and with a gentle tug, pulled her closer. “You saved me.”
His words sliced her heart into ribbons, but this was a good pain. A shared secret that his family would never understand. Because he didn’t mean only the shooting.
“You’re going to need some time to recuperate,” Sarah said. “Do you want us to clean out your apartment, move you home? It’s too tiny for anyone to stay with you comfortably.”
“And it’s too nasty and scary,” Amelia retorted. Both grandparents gave her a quelling look. “What? It is. I’m not staying there!”
Colby looked up at Mal, a silent question asking for permission, though a bit of doubt made him hesitate. Her soldier boy didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was no place she’d rather him be than with her.
“He’s staying with me,” she said firmly. “In fact, your assumption earlier wasn’t too far off the mark.” She lightened her voice, watching the emotion flit across his face. “I plan on asking him to marry me. If he’ll have me.”
If his family thought it strange for the woman to propose to the man, they didn’t object. In fact, his mother started crying and hugged her again, and Amelia started squealing into the phone.
“No, Mom, really, he’s getting married! For real!”
“When?” The sister shrieked through the phone.
Everybody looked at Colby expectantly, and Mal suddenly felt badly for putting him on the spot. They’d only known each other a few weeks. They’d certainly never talked about marriage.
“I hope you don’t mind, Mom, but I’m thinking Mal and I could elope as soon as I’m on my feet again.”
Sarah leaned down and kissed his forehead. “We’ve had two big weddings already. You do what you want, son. We’ll be happy either way.”
Holding his hand while his family grinned and hugged him was wonderful, but she couldn’t fully let go of her reservations.
There was still one person who might stand against this union. Someone very important to her. It’d kill her go against Mama’s wishes, but she refused to give him up. She couldn’t. Mama would just have to understand. Though she wasn’t too eager to break the news to her.
All too quickly, the nurses were back trying to shoo people out. Sudden terror gripped Mal. If they made her leave so his real family could stay…
But no, Colby refused to let go of her hand, and his family crowded around the bed, agreeing to come back in the morning. His father squeezed his shoulder lightly. “Son.” He cleared his throat, his voice gruff. “Your mother and I are very proud of you. So proud. But mostly just glad you’re okay.”
Colby closed his eyes a moment, his fingers trembling in Mal’s grasp. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Though we’d love it if you came home for awhile,” Sarah said firmly, wiping her eyes. “Or at least stayed out of harm’s way. You’ve been in danger too long.”
“No more danger.” He said agreeably, but he looked up at Mal and winked, as if to say, Unless it’s in my Mistress’s bed.