Dirty Deeds (28 page)

Maybe she'd gone down to the cafeteria for coffee. It had to make for a long night sitting up here though he wondered where "here" was. Had they taken him to Deaconess or perhaps Sacred Heart? Either one was a good choice. He just couldn't tell from his surroundings which one. The drapes were closed, blocking his line of sight to the outside. It didn't matter; one hospital was as good as the other. He just hoped he wouldn't be stuck here too long. If they didn't get the chance to grab Harry at the warehouse, Chris needed to find him as soon as possible.

He felt like crap and when he tried to push up to a sitting position, found he was too weak to get himself up. Wow, whatever happened must have kicked the crap out of him. Twitching a finger was as tough as walking through hardened concrete. He was hoping to find the nurse call button. The effort needed to move his fingers in search of the call button brought sweat popping out all over his body. Jesus, what was that about?

His movement caused a tube to fall free, and an alarm began to sound, an annoying
ping, ping, ping
that wouldn't stop. Seconds later, a nurse came rushing into the room. She was a very pretty woman with curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He'd get her number before he checked out. She stopped abruptly at the foot of the bed and just stared at him.

"Water." Inside his head it sounded like he screamed the single word. To his ears it sounded like more of a croak. At first he didn't think she heard him.

She continued to stare for a second longer and then a huge smile appeared as she exclaimed, "Oh, my God."

Epilogue

The air was warm and fresh when Louie limped out onto the sun-drenched patient courtyard on the fifth level of the hospital. In a wheelchair, turned toward a view of the city below, Chris sat seemingly unaware of her presence. She studied him for a moment. His profile really showed how thin he'd become since that night long ago. Gone were the bulky shoulders and the "guns," as he'd liked to call them. He was a shell of the man he'd been, and yet she didn't think she'd ever seen anyone look so beautiful in her life.

Today was the first time they'd been alone since he'd awakened, and strangely, she wasn't sure what to say. She'd talked to him a thousand times over the last five years. Day after day, she'd sat next to his bed and shared her world with him, wishing he'd talk back. Now that he could, she was nervous. Would he be disappointed in her? After all, she'd abandoned a promising career and ended up partner with the man who'd robbed Chris of five years. She'd been lied to and deceived. She'd almost been killed.

But he was her brother, the only family she had left. Even if he was disappointed in her, they'd find a way to get past it. They had to.

She grabbed one of the patio chairs and brought it next to his wheelchair. Before she sat, she leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek. Chris turned his head and smiled. It lit his whole face. Every trace of her nervousness disappeared.

"About time you got your skinny little ass up here," he said with a laugh. "They've been fussing around me like the second coming."

"Ah," she said and took his hand. "Better get used to it. You're front page news, big brother."

He shook his head. "Great. Just what I need when I'm still trying to wrap my head around the five year coma thing. I could swear I've only been out for a day or two. At least when they moved me here to the hospital, I've been able to get in touch with reality little more, see a little more of real life happening.”

"It's definitely been five years, bro. Trust me, I feel every one of them."

His eyes narrowed and he raised one eyebrow. "I'd say you look like it too, but…"

"I will hit a guy in a wheelchair." Her smile belied the threat.

"Naw, you look like a million bucks."

"And you lie when you're scared."

"A wise person knows when to lie."

God, how she'd missed this easy camaraderie. She sobered and sucked in a big breath. "Speaking of lies…"

He held her hand, his long bony fingers stroking her palm. "Start at the beginning, Lou. I need to know."

"It's all pretty simple. Harry lied to both of us. He shot you, tried to kill you, and then used me to make sure you were out of commission. When I figured it all out, he tried to kill me too. But damn it, I loved him like another brother." She choked back a sob.

His hand tightened on hers. "I did too."

"How could he do this us?" She wiped away the tears with her free hand. "How could he hate us this much?"

Chris stroked her hair. "He didn't hate either of us. Not really. He was lost, Louie."

She stared at him. "How can you defend him? He shot me in the goddamn foot." She held up her foot, encased in a black adjustable cast. "He was aiming for my heart. If it hadn't been for Paul and his hockey stick, Harry would have killed me."

"I'm not defending him, little sister. I'm simply stating a fact. Harry wanted to love, he wanted to be loved, but his spirit was weak and he made choices he couldn't undo. I saw hints of it before he shot me and I ignored the signs because I didn't want to see them. If I'd have done more back then—"

"Ah, shit."

"Yeah, ah shit."

"It just hurts," she said as she leaned her head lightly against his shoulder. "And I don't mean the foot."

He patted her head. "Yup, it hurts but we'll heal, both of us. By the way…" he tilted his head to study her face. "Who's Paul?"

She sat up and smiled. "How do you feel about hockey?"

"Hockey?"

"Now you're talking my game," Paul said from the courtyard doorway.

Louie's smile grew even if the nurse pushing Paul's wheelchair was a little too pretty for her taste. If anyone was going to push Paul around it was damn well going to be Louie.

She gimped over to him and kissed him on the lips. "I'm so glad you're here."

"I'm pretty happy about it myself."

"Hey," Chris said. "What about me?"

"He's such a baby," Louie whispered loud enough for Chris to hear.

"Takes one to know one," Chris shot back.

Paul laughed. "Easy to tell you two are related. So are you going to introduce us?" He glanced at Louie.

She pushed Paul over to where Chris waited and then sat back down on her chair gazing at the two men she loved. Oh yeah, no use even trying to deceive herself. She loved Paul and didn't care who knew it.

Looking from Paul to Chris, she said, "Paul McDonald, I'd like you to meet my brother, Christopher Russell."

"Chris. Call me Chris. Nice to meet you, Paul." Chris held out his hand.

Paul shook it. "Likewise. If not for your little sister here, I'd probably be dead."

"Hmm, that's not the way I hear it. Louie tells me you saved her life with a hockey stick."

Louie laughed at the flush that raced up Paul's face. "Let me explain. We're in the office, Harry's holding a gun pointed at my chest and Paul, who's a hockey coach by the way, sneaks in the back and smacks Harry with one of his sticks. Instead of shooting me in the chest, Harry's shot went through my foot. Broke a few bones but nothing serious."

"I think there's a little something's missing in this story." Chris nodded at Paul.

"Little something" didn't even begin to describe what happened after Harry shot her in the foot. In the seconds it took to get her back-up gun out of the ankle holster, she was enveloped in pure panic. Harry's gun was pointed at Paul's head. No way was she going to let him take Paul away from her too.

In the sunlight, Paul's eyes held hers and his fingers tightened around her hand. "She saved my life."

Something in his voice made her heart beat a little faster. "Harry was just about to shoot Paul in the head. I shot him, but as he was going down, he still managed to get a shot off at Paul."

"Thanks to your sister, his bullet only winged me instead of giving me a third eye in the middle of my forehead."

"She's okay," Chris said softly. "She's okay."

"Yes, she is." Paul lifted her hand and kissed her palm.

The touch of his lips against her skin sent electric shocks racing through her body. Louie barely noticed the pretty nurse who came out and whisked Chris away. She heard something about physical therapy but honestly, she couldn't recall the exact words. All her thoughts turned to how close she'd come to losing Paul. Even in the bright sunlight, she shivered.

"I was so scared."

"I wasn't about to leave you and I wasn't going to let him take you from me."

Her eyes filled with the tears she'd been holding back. "If you hadn't raced in with that silly hockey stick, I'd be dead."

A tear slid down her cheek, and Paul reached over to pull her close. He felt warm and best of all, alive. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Couldn't let that happen. You still haven't met the folks."

She stilled, not daring to hope. "Meaning?"

"Meaning, I waited a long time to meet someone like you, Louie Russell, and I'm not about to let one crazy man with a gun take you away."

A smile chased away her tears. She took his hand and kissed the palm. "I love you too."

His green eyes sparkled. "I can't tell you how happy I am to hear you say that."

"Because…"

"Because I love you too."

She leaned in and kissed him as she slid her hand slowly down his leg. "You need to get well. I've got some big plans for you."

The grin that rolled up his face sent a shot of heat through her body. "I can hardly wait."

The End

About the Author:

Sheri Lewis Wohl lives in Northeastern Washington State with her husband, Steve, two really big dogs and one little calico cat. Surrounded by mountains, pine trees, rivers and lakes, it's the perfect setting for stories of romance, intrigue and danger.