Fourteen

 

CARA

Thirty minutes ago . . .

 

Gathering my paperwork I just printed out, I quickly go over what’s supposed to be delivered today. When my eyes land on the last page, a smile tugs at my lips.

A picture of Maddox on the ship holding up a sign that says I miss you both already. His way of letting me know that he returned to his deployment safely.

We got to hang out with him for three days while we were in Cozumel. Probably not the most romantic three days, but Lucas knew I wouldn’t have it any other way. I take anytime I can to spend time with my brother.

“Cara Johnson?”

My head turns toward the voice from the back corner and a man in a hooded black jacket steps out of the shadows.

“That’s me,” I state and a feeling of unease begins to slowly fill my gut.

Something isn’t right.

“Did you forget something on the truck?”

“Nope,” he chuckles before he steps into the light and takes off the hood of his jacket.

My breath hitches when I take in his facial features. He looks like my dad and my brother. Except for blonde hair and black eyes, he could be their doppleganger.

“How did you get in here?” the tremor in my voice at my fear and confusion isn’t something I can hide. And by the smile it brings to his face, he's enjoying every second of it too.

“Funny how people forget to check a door after letting someone out. Especially when they had an attempted robbery not that long ago,” he slowly walks toward me.

Fucking hell, I didn’t lock the door after the delivery.

Flashbacks of that night rush me and I start to tremble knowing this guy was apart of it.

“I promise I didn’t see anything that night. I’m not sure what you want, but I don’t have access to the safe. Only the manager and owner does.”

“Well, isn’t that what you are now?” he questions as he starts to circle around me. “An owner. Didn’t you just return from your honeymoon? Besides, I don’t want Dirty Players money.”

“Then what do you want?” my voice is nothing but a whisper as I start to think about just how pissed Lucas is going to be with me for putting my safety in jeopardy like this.

“What’s owed to my family,” he responds stepping into the light. “Or I really should say our family.”

My breath catches as I think about what he just said taking in his features yet again when he stops in front of me.

“I think you’re confused. I don’t have any family except for my brother.”

“Wrong,” he chuckles out. “Let me tell you a story.”

“Once upon a time, there were two brothers who got an inheritance from their parents when they were killed in an accident. The youngest was never the favorite of the family, so he got far less than the older son.” He walks over toward one of the open boxes and pushes it over, tubes of lubrication go tumbling out as he walks over to another one repeating the action. Kicking he contents over as he continues the story. “The youngest reached out to the older brother but by then, the older one decided he wanted nothing to do with his younger brother; he was now beneath him.”

He walks up to me and sneers down into my face.

“Do you know who that older brother was? I bet you don’t. I bet you never even knew your dear daddy had a brother. A brother who struggled for years to take care of his wife and child. His own flesh and blood turned away from him like he was an animal and not a human being,” he spits out the last word in anger covering my face with his saliva.

However, I don’t dare move one damn inch to wipe it off. I’m in shock that my dad had a brother and we never knew. I have a family, and they hate me for reasons I had nothing to do with.

“Then, last year we found out that dear Uncle Zachary died. We thought we'd finally get what was owed to us. That was until we found out about you and your twin brother. Who knew Uncle Zachary was man enough to find a woman who would love an evil, vile human like him? Anyway, it took about a year, but we finally found the loophole we were need.”

He smiles at me then takes a few steps back before going to one of the boxes that I hadn’t opened yet.

“You want the money my dad left me? If that’s all you want, then I’m more than happy to give it to you. It means nothing to me.”

“I wish it was that easy,” he sighs turning around to face me again. “However, it isn’t. The only way we can get what’s owed to us is for you, Maddox, and any next of kin either of you have to die.”

Dread fills my stomach and I drop the paperwork that was still in my shaking hands.

“We thought hiring the Mexican mafia would be the better choice, so it wouldn’t be attached to us, but for some reason, we were told earlier that not only were Maddox and your husband under their protection, but so were you,” he sneers. “Now, we have to do it the hard way. By getting our hands dirty ourselves.”

He raises a gun and points it right at me.

“Any last words?” he asks me sweetly.

Staring down the barrel of the gun that I know is going to end my life, I only think about Maddox and Lucas and how to save them.

“Yes I do!” I scream, praying it will grab one of the guard’s attention that I know is wondering around the building outside.

“And what’s that, baby cousin?”

I spot Andrew creeping in and my shoulders relax just a bit knowing that he will stop him before he gets to my husband. Knowing that the next thing I’m about to do is going to hurt and possibly kill me, I still smile at my cousin throwing him off for just a second.

“I hope they kill you.”

“They won’t,” he states.

Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.

Burning hits my abdomen and I fall backwards hitting the floor hard.

“Cara!” Andrew leans over me and presses on my stomach.

My vision blurs as tears fall fast as my body starts to ache from the bullet going through me and also from my head banging on the concrete.

I can’t help but pray that my life wasn’t lost for nothing and that they figure out who my cousin was so they can stop my Uncle and Aunt from getting the two people I just took a bullet for.

“Call nine-one-one. One dead and one injured.”

I scream in pain as the pressure hits my wound and black starts to cover my vision and I realize I’m going to pass out.

“Don’t you leave me, mia.”

“It hurts . . . my cousin . . .” I start coughing and I feel myself get lighter in weight.

“Stop talking, Cara.” Lucas pleads with me.

A metallic taste floods my mouth and my ears begin to ring.

I’m dying.

“Love . . . you,” I manage to gasp before I’m engulfed in darkness.

 

 

My eyes slowly open and I wait as they come into focus. The first thing I spot is a clock on the wall that reads three forty-two. And by the brightness in the room, I’m assuming that means it’s in the afternoon.

But I still have no idea where I am right now and why I’m in so much pain.

I continue to move my eyes around the room until I realize I’m in a hospital.

I was shot.

My mind flashes through everything that happened.

“Mia, it’s okay. Let me call the nurse,” Lucas’s voice calls out from my right.

Glancing over, he’s blurry and I realize I’m crying.

“I was,” I begin to say, but my throat is dry and scratchy.

“You’re awake,” a blue haired, blue eyed nurse wearing hello kitty scrubs says as she walks into the room. “How is your pain on a scale of one to ten?”

“Six,” I rasp. “Water?”

“Of course. The doctor ordered a liquid diet for when you woke up, since you've been sleeping for three days now,” she tells me holding a small cup with a straw to my lips.

Did she really just say three days?

“What?” I ask after I take a few sips of water.

“Cara, you’ve been in a coma for three days,” Lucas answers.

“I’m going to give you a dose of pain meds,” the nurse states.

Stunned, I sit back and absorb his words. I’ve lost three days of my life. To me, it feels like it's  only been a few moments since my cousin walked into the store. Honestly, I'm unsure how to exactly feel about that. However, it makes me realize that time really is precious, It's also very irrelevant when it comes to not being in the now, so to speak.

“I’ll let the doctors know you're awake. They’ll be in shortly to check you over,” the nurse says after giving me my meds.

“I thought I lost you,” Lucas's voice sounds strained.

His clothes are rumpled, his hair standing in all directions, as though he's been raking is hands through it.

He looks exhausted.

But he looks lost more than anything.

“Did you even leave the hospital?” I ask.

He covers my left hand with his.

“No. I couldn’t until I knew you were awake and okay.”

“I thought I was going to die.”

A tear drops from my eye as I really take in what could’ve happen to me.

“You almost did. The bullet went through your abdomen, but never exited. It took six hours of surgery to fix the damage. However, you still weren’t in the clear. You also lost four pints of blood. You ended up getting three blood transfusions to get your hemoglobin levels to a safe area.”

“My cousin—”

“We know about your family—” Lucas cuts me off, but I interrupt him.

“No, we’re still in danger. Maddox and you—”

“Munchkin, if you would listen to your husband, he’s trying to tell you we know all of it already. Our uncle and his wife have been arrested and our cousin is in the morgue,” Maddox says from the door.

“You’re safe,” I say on a sob, then yelp in pain when my stomach contracts.

“Calm down,” Lucas murmurs and rubs my arm. “It isn’t good for you to get this upset while you’re still healing.”

“He’s correct, Mrs. Fisher.” There's two women standing where Maddox, who’s now sitting on my right, was a moment ago. “I’m Dr. Rochelle Paige and this is Dr. Elle Christensen.”

“We’re here to examine you and talk about what happened when you had surgery,” Dr. Paige states.  She's a shorter woman with long brown hair, and dark eyes. Her kind smile gives me the reassurance I need that everything is going to be okay.

For the next fifteen minutes, I’m poked and prodded while answering their questions about how I’m feeling as they test my reactions to their administrations.

“I’m giving you a dose of pain medication to top off what the nurse just gave you. I saw the pain you were in as we examined you,” Dr. Christensen explains as she pushes meds into my IV, pausing for a moment to brush her dirty blonde hair out of her green eyes.

“I think you’ll be able to leave in the next week as long as you continue on the path you’re on now,” Dr. Christensen states while writing on a pad. “However, we need to talk about what happened in surgery and what it means for your future.”

“What do you mean, my future?” I glance at Lucas and watch as tears begin to fill his eyes. Maddox's face holds the same expression . . . sadness. Turning back to the doctors, I continue my questioning. “Why are my husband and brother looking at me like that? What was so bad that it now affects my future? Did you find something medically go wrong while removing the bullet? Oh dear God, please tell me it isn’t cancer.”

“Mia,” Lucas starts. He stands and takes a seat next to me on the bed, holding my head in his hands. “You were pregnant.”

My heart drops.

Pregnant.

“Were?” My voice is so low that I don’t think anyone, but Lucas hears it until I feel Maddox’s hand squeeze mine. “Lucas, you said were pregnant. Not am pregnant.”

“I know,” he whispers back. “The bullet hit . . .”

Silence fills the room as his voice trails off.

I lost my baby.

“Will I ever . . .” I trail off while staring into Lucas’s eyes.

If I’m not able to give him kids, then I’ll not hold him to our marriage. I can’t. He has too much love to give to not be a father.

“Yes, Mrs. Fisher. You’ll be able to get pregnant again in the future. You still have your reproductive parts. The problem is, it might not be easy to get pregnant. You were around three months pregnant, we needed to do a DNC before closing the tear the bullet caused. Once this heals, you’ll grow scar tissue which cuts your chances down. That’s what we’re meaning by your future issues. It might not be as easy this time as the last time you got pregnant.”

“Three months?”

“You got pregnant the first week we were together. Even though you were on the shot, it didn’t stop fate from giving you my baby.” Lucas murmurs as the tears fall down his face. “If I would’ve known, I wouldn’t have let you out my sight.”

I just sit there and stare into his eyes. I slowly start to become numb.

My baby died.

And my family is to blame.

Which means, it’s my fault.

I killed my baby.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper out as the medication the doctors gave me finally kicks in and I begin to drift off to sleep.