CHAPTER 14
Sam was already on his knees or he’d have fallen to them and prayed to a God he wasn’t sure he believed in anymore.
Instead, he continued applying pressure to Angie’s wound in spite of her moan of pain. “Don’t move,” he demanded, burying his face in her hair. “Hold on. You’ve just got to hold on.”
Luke hunkered at their side. “The ambulance is nearly here, sweetie,” he said to Angie. “Just take it easy for a moment, okay?”
She didn’t respond and Sam nearly had a coronary. “Angie? Talk to me.”
Nothing.
Bending closer, he rubbed his jaw to hers. “I love you, Angie. Please open your eyes.”
Her eyes remained closed. Lifeless. “Damn it, where is that ambulance?” he shouted.
“Here.” A medic appeared at his side, reached for her.
They started an IV and prepped a gurney while Sam sat there, gripping Angie’s lifeless hand in his, unable to take his eyes off her.
“She’ll make it,” Luke said.
He nodded, because anything else was unacceptable. He could hardly bear to look at her. It used to be he could hardly look at her because she was so happy, so full of life, so joyous she hurt him just by being.
Now it killed him to look at her so still, so pale, but he forced himself as they loaded her up, forced himself to keep his eyes on her as they left the office.
* * *
On the sidewalk outside, Ellie and George were being loaded into separate police cars.
George hesitated, looking down at Angie with sorrow. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“You got what you deserved,” Ellie said, her eyes cold as ice.
“So will you,” Sam promised.
For a moment, her detachment vanished. “You can’t prove anything.”
“We can prove everything,” Sam told her before turning away to watch Angie being loaded into the ambulance. He started to climb in after her, only to be stopped by a medic who looked barely old enough to vote.
“Sorry, sir.” The kid, a good eight inches shorter and nothing but a slim beanpole, swallowed hard. “You’ll have to catch another ride.”
“Move aside.”
“Sir, you can’t—”
“Bullsh—”
“I’ll drive you,” Luke said, hauling Sam back. “We’ll get there just as fast, trust me.”
Sam took one last glance at the closing doors on the ambulance and nodded.
* * *
The first time Angie opened her eyes, the overhead light hurt her eyes. Her body hurt, too; in fact, it felt as if a Mack truck had hit it. It was no problem at all to let sleep claim her again.
The next time she woke, the light had been turned to dim. Confused, she blinked and saw that the room around her was white.
She was in a hospital bed.
Slumped in a chair by her side was Sam, his arms folded on the side of her bed at her hip, his head down, his shoulders rising and falling evenly with his slow, deep breathing.
She stared at him for a long, long time, the steady cadence of his breathing incredibly soothing, until the wooziness overtook her again.
* * *
When Angie woke up for the third time, the wooziness was gone.
The pain was not.
She forced her eyes open anyway and dealt with the familiar, horribly bright light. The chair was still at her side, and though Sam’s clothes were different, he once again slept.
His jaw was dark, as if he hadn’t shaved in a few days, and he looked so exhausted, so uncharacteristically ruffled, and so breathtaking she wanted to cry.
Then he stretched, lifted his head and saw her watching him. His eyes were no longer tired, but suddenly intent and solemn.
Then she no longer wanted to cry, she was crying. This is where he tells me he can’t see me anymore, she thought.
She braced for the regret, the anger, but it didn’t come. Yes, she’d fallen hard for him, but she’d done so with her eyes wide open. She’d do it again.
But this was going to hurt more than being shot. “Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi,” he whispered back.
A chair scraped the floor, and then another. Then a short gasp. Suddenly four additional heads appeared near Sam’s.
Luke first, looking equally scruffy, but his eyes were twinkling with relief and a smile. “Hey, look at that. Sleeping Beauty is up.”
Josephine’s head popped into her vision next. “Oh, honey, you gave me gray hairs.”
Then there were Angie’s parents, looking at her as they always did—a little baffled, a little uncertain, but both clearly moved by the sight of her.
“You’re going to be fine,” her father said with his characteristic inability to deal with things going any other way.
“Of course she is,” her mother said, as always in complete agreement with her father, unless of course, his opinion differed from her own, which only happened every other moment. “And you’re going to be quick about it. You have things to do.”
In other words, she had a life to make something of. While that might have felt like a burden in her past, it no longer felt like anything other than a wonderful challenge she couldn’t wait to get back to.
Sam was still staring down at her, silent. Which reminded her…the life she couldn’t wait to get back to…it wasn’t always going to be a bowl of cherries.
The real world, her world, was still going to include things like…pain. She would miss him so much. So very much. “I don’t remember how I got here.”
“Ambulance,” Luke said. “You didn’t hear our hero here bellowing at the paramedic?”
Sam shot Luke a warning look. “She doesn’t need details.”
“Sure she does.” Luke sat at her hip and grinned. “He nearly gave the poor medic a heart attack.”
“Really?” Angie looked at Sam, fascinated by the fact that he was squirming.
“He had to be forcibly torn from your side,” Luke said.
“This wasn’t your fault,” Angie told Sam.
“I know.”
Luke put a finger in his ear and wriggled. “Oh really? You know, huh? Then why have you been barking at me for three days?”
“Because you’re an idiot.”
“Because you’ve been afraid. Which I understood. It’s why I let you yell at me. You think I do that for just anyone?” Luke leaned closer to Angie. “All that putting up with him while you’ve been resting… I probably deserve a kiss. You know, to help soothe my hurt feelings.”
Angie smiled and kissed his cheek when he bent and put it in front of her.
Sam shoved Luke clear. “Go kiss your own woman.” He turned back to Angie, his eyes dark with things she couldn’t even imagine. “You really don’t remember any of it? The surgery?”
“Surgery?” She swallowed. “No.”
“You had the bullet lodged beneath your collar bone. It ricocheted around a bit, did some damage.”
“Missed a few important parts by the skin of your teeth,” Josephine said, biting her lower lip. Sam tossed her a dark look. “Not that you need to worry about that right now,” she added quickly. “You’re going to be fine, just fine. You’ll be back in working order in no time at all.”
The pain in her body made her think it might take slightly more time than no time. “I hope I can get back to work soon.”
“Don’t worry about work,” Sam said.
“I’ll get a temp, honey, no problem.”
But living without money coming in would be a problem. A big one. And yet with everyone looking at her anxiously behind huge smiles, she didn’t have the heart to say so.
Sam ran a finger down her arm to the IV, his jaw tight as he continued to gently stroke her. “Don’t worry about work,” he said again, softly.
Fine. She had plenty of other worries. Such as, how long before he put words to his feelings and walked away?
She wondered if she could pretend to go back to sleep to avoid that very thing. Wondered if he’d believe it. Wondered how long she could feign illness in order to delay what was so inevitable.
Something in her eyes must have given away her thoughts, because, without taking his eyes off her, he said, “Can we have a few moments here?”
A few moments would be bad. A few moments would be all he needed to tell her it was over, that what they’d shared had been a mistake. “I think I’d rather nap,” she said hastily.
Worry filled his gaze. “You just woke up.”
“We’ll just get out of your hair for a bit.” Luke leaned in so only Angie could hear him. “Keep him hopping, sweetie. It’s good for him. You’re good for him.”
Wouldn’t she like to believe that.
“You are,” Luke said in the guise of kissing her. “You’re just what he needs. Not sure if he realizes that yet, but—”
“That’s enough kissing,” Sam said with some irritation.
Luke just grinned. “You can never have enough kissing.”
Josephine pushed him away. She blew her nose noisily before looking Angie over very carefully. “It’s good to see you, honey. So good. And yes, I imagine a nap would be just what the doctor ordered. You’ll feel good as new in no time at all, I’m sure of it. Just holler if you need anything, okay? Anything at all.”
Her parents came close next, and kissed her cheek. “We’ll come back,” her mother promised. “We can help. I could go get your class work for you, if you’d like.”
“Really? Oh, Mom.”
Her mother’s eyes filled. “I’d do anything for you, Angie. I even finally understand you don’t want to go to medical school.” She smiled through the tears and kissed her again. “You’re alive, and alive is good. I’ve decided everything else is a bonus. Sleep tight, sweetheart.”
And then they too were gone.
Leaving Angie with Sam. Alone.
“Angie—”
She yawned, and didn’t have to fake the heavy feeling to her lids. They were closing on her. “I’m so sleepy.” Surely he wouldn’t ditch her now, when she could hardly keep consciousness.
He could do it later, when she felt strong again. When she could stand on her own two feet and find her own balance. Then she’d be fine. She would.
“Just rest,” he said quietly, keeping his hand on her, and she wasn’t sorry for being selfish enough to want him to keep touching her for a few more stolen moments.
Just a few more.
As she let sleep claim her, she heard his sigh.
* * *
Sam had started to doze off himself when the hospital door opened again.
A nurse, probably needing to check Angie’s stats.
Or maybe Luke with the promised pizza.
But it was neither. He lifted his head and faced…his mother.
“Hello, Sam,” she said quietly, stepping farther into the room. She looked at Angie. “How is she?”
Sam couldn’t seem to find his tongue. All these years…and she stood there in her sedate business suit holding a small sprig of flowers in her hands, looking as if they met like this on a daily basis. “Maybe I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep.”
“No.” She took a deep breath. “It’s…me.” She looked at the sleeping Angie. “It’s all over the news. The nurse said she was going to be okay.”
“She is.” He cleared his throat. “What are you doing here? And how do you know Angie?”
“Well.” She put the flowers down at the table by Angie’s bed and lightly touched Angie’s hand. Then she drew in another deep breath and faced her son. “She came into the library and set me straight on a few things.”
“She…what?”
Now she let out that deep breath and came to Sam’s side. Taking his hand, she pulled him to a stand, then slowly, very slowly, cupped his hard jaw. “I don’t know where to start.”
She was touching him. Looking at him with tears in her eyes and a world of hurt that he knew he’d put there. “The beginning, maybe?”
“Okay. The beginning.” Her smile wobbled. “I was wrong to let you walk out of my life. Very, very wrong. I thought it would help if I couldn’t watch you do what you do. But it’s worse that way. I love you, Sam. You’re my son.”
“But I’m still a cop.”
“Yes. And I’m still terrified over that, but not enough to keep you out of my life. Not anymore. Please—” Her voice broke and she cleared her throat. “Please say you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
“But…why now?”
“Because life is too short,” she said with surprising vehemence. “Too damn short.” She dropped her gaze and backed away. “You probably have to think this over, and I understand. Just know whatever you decide, I’ll understand that, too.” She leaned forward, kissed him softly on the cheek and turned away.
Got to the door.
“Mom.”
She whirled around, the hope on her face making his throat tighten—a chronic condition these days. “I…love you, too.”
She put a shaking hand to her mouth. “Sam.”
He opened his arms. And with a sob, she walked right into them.