G-Men: The Series (81 page)

“Please tell me that Kyzer’s been arrested.”

“He has,” he replied.

I breathed a sigh of relief, mentally thanking the God who had been watching over me once again.

“And Susan?”

“Yes.”

Another “Thank you, God.”

“Then, I guess I have a lot to be thankful for, Taz. Those are really the important things, right?”

“The most important thing, baby, is that you woke up and you’re still alive, because you don’t know how close it was at times.”

“I think I might have a clue,” I said, squeezing his hand. “I made my intentions known to the higher-ups while I was out.”

He cocked a beautiful eyebrow at me which reminded me of some unfinished business I had with him.

“Taz?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Come closer, please?”

“Lindsey, honey, there’s all this stuff,” he said, indicating the tubes and IVs that were like spaghetti going in and out of my arms and stomach.

He saw my look of determination and carefully picked his way through them to hoist himself up on the edge of my hospital bed so that he was next to me.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you something. It hit me while I was off in dreamland.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m listening, baby girl.”

“I love you, Trace.”

He smiled that wonderful, dazzling, sexy smile of his.

“I love you, Lindsey. Haven’t you been listening?”

Now it was my turn to be puzzled. He saw the frown crease my forehead.

“I’ve told you that each and every day for the past three weeks. Will you ever get with the program?”

He leaned over and gently kissed my lips several times and I knew that God had done me well. We were still cuddling when the nurse came in and seemed pleased that I was awake.

“Well, finally,” she said, shooing Taz out of the bed to take my vitals.

“I knew you’d be coming around,” she said, taking my wrist to verify my identification band.

“I told this one as much every day seeing him here, moping around with that hang-dog look. It takes a while for those injuries to heal and the infection to clear up. Your surgery was done by one of the best, Ms. Dennison. He flew in from Boston General to reconstruct your bowel. You were lucky to have him.”

Surgery? Reconstruct my bowel?

Taz was watching me closely, reading my confusion. He cleared his throat. The nurse looked at him and I saw him shake his head “no” a couple of times. What in the hell was that about?

“Where’s my mother?” I asked, finally realizing that it was strange for her not to be here, since I’d apparently skirted death by the skin of my teeth.

The nurse was clearly puzzled that I’d asked that question.

“Sweetie,” Taz said, taking my hand again, “you’re at Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville. You were air-lifted here once you were assessed at the trauma center in Atlanta because of the type of injuries you sustained.”

I nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“Your mother suffered a bit of a setback with the news of what had happened to you. She’s at Walter Reed now. She lost one of the twins.”

God this has to be killing her!

“Is she going to be okay?”

“Everyone is hoping. They have to do surgery on her tomorrow. This just happened a couple of days ago. She got really, really ill. She’s been here to see you several times, but only briefly. It was too much for her, babe. She didn’t obey doctor’s orders; she insisted Slate bring her here. It’s been a mess.”

“What surgery?” I asked.

“They need to do some type of laser surgery so the remaining twin gets enough blood from the placenta on account of that TTTS condition.”

“Oh God, Oh God, Taz.”

“I know, baby. I know. But your mom wants you to focus on your recovery, okay? That’s why I’m here. She knows I won’t let you slack off.”

He was trying to tease me now to make me feel better. I once again prayed to God that everything would be okay for Mom and her baby. How much worse could anything get? The nurse was recording my blood pressure and checking my urine output from the catheter bag.

“Now,” she said, “Let me check your colostomy bags.”

What?

I heard Taz clear his throat. “I’ll just step outside to give Lindsey some privacy.” He departed quickly from the room.

The nurse shook her head.

“He’s been here daily and observed me doing this. He has plans to give you your post-release care. I don’t understand why all of a sudden he turned bashful,” she said, as if this was nothing. “He knows how to change these bags better than me.”

I was frozen to the spot. I was unable to speak or comment.

Suddenly, as I watched her lift my blanket and check the contents of two very distinct plastic bags on opposite ends of my abdomen, I was ready to rescind my prayers of thanks to the God who had played a monumental, crazy, sick joke on me.

^{chapter 46}

~ TAZ ~

I walked down the hallway of the hospital, raking my hands through my hair. I couldn’t handle it. I was such a fucking, fucking coward. I’d left Lindsey’s room because I couldn’t handle the expression that I knew would cross her face when she saw those colostomy bags. She would have questions. I didn’t have answers.

It had been just over three weeks since Agent Hardesty and I had opened that locked door to find her. No matter how hard I tried, I would never get that picture of her, arms up over her head, tied to the headboard of that bed, lying in her own blood out of my head. She’d been so pale; her skin so hot to the touch. She wasn’t conscious and I could only hope that she hadn’t felt too much pain prior to passing out.

Someone had tossed a blanket on top of her. Hardesty went over to her first. I’d been frozen like a statute to where I stood. As Hardesty lifted the blanket, I could see she was only wearing ripped panties and a bra. I’d quickly un-froze.

“Don’t touch her!” I’d yelled to Hardesty. I shoved him away and he sensed I wanted to provide what privacy I could for her at that moment.

I pulled my Kydex knife from the sheath and cut the ropes that were binding her wrists and ankles. I wrapped her feverish, limp body up in the blanket, noticing all kinds of cuts and belt marks on her skin.

At that very moment, for just that instant, I wanted to go back twenty minutes in time, when I had my weapon pulled and pressed against Kyzer Stanfield’s temple. I wouldn’t have paused for a second in releasing the entire clip into his fucking, sick brain.

The locals were there within minutes, along with paramedics who quickly got her into the truck headed for a hospital in Marietta.

She’d been assessed at the trauma center, and then air-lifted to Vanderbilt for the anticipated surgery required to reconstruct her lower bowel and rectum that had been torn apart by Kyzer’s brutal rape.

The bacterial infection had prevented the surgery from taking place for over a week. Her surgeon had said that her situation was critical—if the bacteria got into her bloodstream, she could go into septic shock, which ultimately could result in organ failure and death.

Once the surgery was performed, signs of infection appeared once again, and for the next ten days she’d been in the ICU. The doctor had performed what he hoped would be just a temporary colostomy as a means to minimize infection traveling to the area reconstructed and promote healing.

Lindsey was alive and she was healing. I’d prayed over her constantly, bargained with God for her to survive. All I hoped for now was that she could accept that her survival might mean having to live with the colostomy for a period of time, possibly forever. The doctor said it could be reversed, but it was dependent on how well Lindsey healed without complications.

I thought about how much I wanted to kill Kyzer Stanfield then and even now. It wasn’t enough that he’d been arrested, it wasn’t enough that we got Susan in the process, and that the barrels of cathine had been located at the R & D site, I wanted more. I wanted someone to pay with their blood for what Lindsey had endured at the hands of those maniacal thugs. I wanted retribution.

I couldn’t think about that now. I needed to get back to her. Her doctor would be coming in shortly for his daily check. They’d induced her coma for the purpose of getting her through the pain of the surgery and infection.

She’d need a few more days here and then I was taking her home, to my home to care for her as long as she needed me.

I retraced my steps down the corridor. I was prepared now to answer the questions that I could, to reassure her that everything was going to be okay.

When I breezed back through the door to her room, she was wiping her eyes. The nurse had been back in to remove the catheter. She told me on her way out that the doctor had ordered the feeding tube removed, and it would be done shortly.

I sat down next to Lindsey’s bed.

“So babe,” I said, “everything is going to be okay. You know that, right?”

She looked over at me, tears fresh in her eyes, shaking her head.

“How can you say that, Taz? How will my life ever be the same like, like this?” Her hands motioned towards her abdomen as sobs escaped from her.

I leaned over, taking her hands and putting them to my lips, kissing them.

“Baby girl,” I said, “you’re young and healthy. Your doctor says that this will probably be just temporary until you fully heal, okay?”

“And what if it’s not?” she asked, looking into my eyes, “what then?”

“Then we’ll deal with it, sweetie—you and I will deal with it. It doesn’t change a thing. You understand that, right?”

She nodded. I wasn’t sure she was convinced of that, but she needed to be.

“Taz how come you’ve been able to spend all this time here with me?”

“I took a leave of absence from the bureau. I want to take care of you, Lindsey.”

She looked puzzled, not saying anything right away.

“I don’t understand. Don’t you need a paycheck?”

I smiled at her. Always the pragmatist.

“I’ve tucked some money away, not to worry.”

“Taz, I love you,” she said, “But I’m not comfortable with you seeing me like this, you know?”

“Seeing you like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“No, Lindsey, you see, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Like this,” she repeated, nodding towards her abdomen.

“What I understand is that you’ve been through something horrific, something horrible. But because of the strength you have, you have survived. You’re tough. Do you recall me telling you that I loved you?”

“Yes, but that was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I knew what I know now.”

“Which means?”

“Which means, you’re off the hook. What happened to me was not your fault. So, please, just lose the guilt, okay? I’m damaged goods here, but you’re not responsible for that. I won’t rely on your misguided sense of guilt or pity to get me through the night.”

She pulled her hand from mine and rolled over, her back to me now.

I stood and walked over to the other side of the bed, standing right in front of her. I lowered myself to my haunches, looking into her pale green eyes.

“Don’t you ever take the love that I have for you and fling it back in my face like that, do you understand?”

Her eyes widened as she watched me. She nodded.

“When you’re released from this hospital, you’re coming home with me. It has nothing to do with guilt, and it has nothing to do with pity. It’s about love, Lindsey. I love you and I want to show you just how much I love you. I don’t just want you to stay with me until you’re healed. I want you to stay with me for as long as we love each other, okay?”

She nodded again, a tear rolling down her cheek. I leaned in and kissed it away.

“So then, we’re on the same page?”

“Yes, Taz,” she replied, softly, smiling at me once again.

^{chapter 47}

I’d been out of the hospital and safely ensconced with Taz for more than a week. The doctor at Vanderbilt had referred me to a colleague of his located in D.C. for my follow-up care.

The surgeon had explained to me that the internal healing had to be complete with no scar tissue present in order for the colostomy to be reversed. The good news was that he felt genuinely confident I would be a prime candidate for the reversal, and it was a fairly minor procedure. I was to see the physician he referred me to in a few weeks for a re-check and pre-operative consultation.