Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds) (25 page)

BOOK: Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds)
5.45Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Frankie spoke in the soft clinical voice she used at the stadium. He wanted to kiss her.
And yeah, X would probably have something to say about that, too.

“Matthias called the plumber—”

“Plumber?”

They walked through the door of the bedroom and his lungs seized. She squeezed his hand. “The EMT’s had to break the faucet. They turned off the water to the tub, so there wasn’t water damage.”

The bedroom didn’t look any different. A little anti-cl
imactic, actually. He’d
expected the kind of chaos going on in his head. And the bathroom, with the exception of the broken faucet and the damp floor, had been set to rights.

That’s what they’d done for him. For her. For all of them. Evidence still existed, but the Band-Aids were in place. “Thank you.”

“You’d probably like some privacy. Maybe a shower?”

The corners of his lips tilted with a smile he didn’t feel. “Yeah, I could use a shower.”

Frankie was quiet for a while, doing a whole lot of not looking at him and
not
leaving.

“Just say it, Doc.”

She sighed, pinned him with a concerned look. “She was afraid of hurting you. That’s why she didn’t tell you. She didn’t want you to go through the agony of knowing what happened to her. And she really didn’t want Matt to ever find out.”

“She lied.”

“No.” Frankie shook her head. “She just didn’t tell you. There’s a difference, Ricky. She didn’t tell you to spare you the hurt of knowing she’d been violently beaten and raped. And she didn’t want Matt to know he’d been the result of that violation.”

Ricky’s teeth ground together until his jaw hurt.

“There is a difference.”

“Yeah, well that difference nearly got her killed.”

“Nearly. That’s the keyword in that statement.” Frankie put her hands on her hips. “You gotta decide, are you gonna walk out of her life?”

“No!”

“Does she know that?”

Like a slap, he focused. He blinked against the emotion filling his eyes. Ah, hell. He’d been so wrapped up on the shit in his head, he’d not given much thought to what might be rattling around in hers. Instead, he’d released his fear and anger by yelling at her. Then leaving her alone.

What an ass he was.

After a quick shower and a some fresh clothes, he said goodbye to his nearest and dearest and went back to the hospital. He had some serious apologies to offer. He hit up his mother. And got voicemail. He frowned. He looked down at the screen on his phone. All her concern and his brother’s pissed off, and she’d not called him.

He shook his head. It didn’t
really
matter. He should have called her as soon as he knew Shayne was okay.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda.

He pulled into the parking lot,
jogged
into the hospital and up to Shayne’s room. Voices from inside stopped him in his tracks. He couldn’t hear what they said, but he recognized both of them as the two most important women in his life.

That was why his mother hadn’t answered her phone.

He pushed the door open and quietly stepped inside.

His mother stopped midsentence. She smiled. Behi
nd her dark eyes he saw concern…
and love. She hopped up and speedwalked right up to him—to cuff him upside the head. “I was so worried. You should have called me.”

“You’re right.”

“You’re a good boy.”
She hugged him tight.
Even though he had her by nearly a foot, she still had a way of making him feel like a little boy. She patted his back, then held onto his arms as she eased away.
“I came to see you guys as soon as I heard. I guess I just missed you.”

“You didn’t come to the house.” The pieces of his puzzle started coming together.

She laughed
softly
, much like when he was three and had said something absolutely ridiculous. “I knew you wouldn’t be there.”

And the final piece clicked in tight. Just like the people putting his house in order, his mother
offered her love and support by…
just being his mom.

 

***

 

The man who returned to Shayne’s room wasn’t the same one who’d left. When Ricky left, she assumed he wouldn’t be back. Now, though, he wore the kind of fatigue a week long nap couldn’t cure.

But, exhausted or not, her husband had come back.

Elena glanced over her shoulder and smiled at Shayne. “I’m going to head home. Do you need anything before I go?”

Shayne shook her head as Ricky said, “No, thanks though.”

Elena shifted on her feet, leaning forward and rocking back. Shayne opened her arms. Elena practically threw herself
across the room and carefully drew
Shayne in
to
a hug.


Thanks for coming.”

Ricky looked like a kid who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Elena strode up to her son. “I love you,
mijo
.”

“Love you, too,
mamacita
.”

She cupped his cheeks in her hands. “You call me if you need anything. Got it?”

“Got it.”

She kissed his cheeks. “Take care of her.”

Shayne didn’t miss his non-response. Ricky was quiet until the door closed fully. “How long was she here?”

“Like she said, she got here right after you left.”
She attempted a smile, but winced as it pulled at her split lip.
“I’m a little surprised you didn’t run into her on the elevator.”

No humor existed in his
heavy footsteps
as he came toward the bed. He sat on the edge, although he didn’t touch her. Before either of them could say anything, the door opened and the doctor entered, chart in hand. “You ready to go home?

“Very much.”

He smiled, flipped through a few papers and nodded, tucking her chart under his arm. “Okay, here’s the deal, your latest x-ray showed your lungs are clear. However, they’re compromised. You need to be very careful, even the common cold can cause complications.”

“For how long?”

“The rest of your life.” His lips went tight. “You’ll have to see your primary care physician as soon as possible and have them monitor you.”

“Her sister-in-law is a doctor,” Ricky told the doctor.

He nodded. “I know Frankie. She’s a great doctor, but knows bones better than lungs.” 

“I’ll call and make an appointment right now if it means I can go home.” The thought of going home didn’t frighten her the way she’d worried it might. She looked forward to getting on with her life. No secrets.

The doctor smiled, tipped his head in a nod. “That’s not necessary. I’ll prepare your discharge papers and the nurse will bring them in a little bit.”

“Thank you.” She sank back against the pillows.

Ricky stood and followed the doctor to the door. “Thanks, Doc.” As soon as they were alone, Ricky’s shoulders rose and fell, his chest expanded then deflated. “Do you want to go home?”

“Yes.”

He turned. His Adam’s apple bobbed. With slow steps
,
he
came back to her bed, sat
down on the edge and looked completely ruined. “To my home?”

“No, to
our
home.” She
slowly inched her hand toward
his
, giving him ample opportunity to move away. Upon contact, she grabbed on tight. “I love you, Ricky.”

“I can’t do the lying thing, Shayne. I love you, but I can’t go through another thing like this again.”

“You think I can?” At his scowl
,
she wanted to bite off her tongue. “Look, I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t know what more I can say to you. I’m sorry. I love you. That’s all I got. You want something else, something more, just tell me what to say and I’ll say it.”

He carefully removed his hand from her grasp and started to gather her things. Which he soon would learn was pretty darned closed to nothing. Her clothe
s hadn’t made the trek upstairs and
she had no idea where they were. Or, come to think of it, what she was going to wear home.

He paced around the c
ramped room a few times, stopping
dead in the center. He tugg
ed his phone out of back pocket
, punched a few buttons and put it to his ear. “Hi. She has nothing to wear home. Uh-huh. Yeah. Okay. Will do. Thanks.” He hung up and went out into the hall.

Shayne stared at the closing door, wondering who the hell he’d talked to and where the hell he was going.
She didn’t want to consider he might have left her again. The next ten minutes were the longest of her life. And given the time she’d
spent in the bathtub, that was saying something.

Relief washed over her when he rushed
back through the d
oor. Although he smiled, the tilt
of his lips didn’t quite fill his eyes with the twinkle she loved so much. He held up a pair of scrubs.

She pushed away the melancholy and grinned. “Thanks.”

His huge left shoulder jerked. “You can thank Frankie. They’re hers.”

“Thank
you
for making the arrangements for me to borrow them.”

His crackle of laughter burst from him making her jump. “It’s not like they’d let you strut outta her
e
nekkid. Do you need help gettin’ changed?”

Deep sigh.
“Yes, please.”

It didn’t take long to get changed, discharged and on the road. The task, though not a big deal, tired her to the point of exhaustion. The headrest supported her neck. The seatbelt kept her upright. Good thing, ‘cause she no longer had
the energy to do either thing
herself.

During the short ride home, she pretended to sleep. Ricky drove in silence. She had to admit to being concerned about what might greet her once getting there.

A slowing, an even slower turn and the truck crawled until it stopped. She opened her eyes just as he put the car into gear and cut the engine.

“It’s all been cleaned up. Only a few scratches that need to be buffed remain.”

“Thank you.”

“Again, you have Frankie to thank. And your brother, son and Kane and Mason.”

She might have stood a chance of fighting the tears if she’d had a clue that kind of love came at her. “Wow. They must really love you.”

“No, they love you,
mujer bonita
.”

“They love
us
.”

“Fair enough.” He yanked on his door, the overhead light popping on. “Wait right there, I’ll be around to get you.” Before the light went off, he’d opened her door. He reached over and unbuckled her seatbelt. His arms went under her knees and around her neck. He scooped her up, cradling her against his chest. “Come on,
mujer bonita
, let’s get you settled inside.”

She wrapped her arms around his
neck
—or tried to. She didn’t have the strength to hold on, but needed the contact. He kicked the door open and hit the garage door opener to seal up that entrance. He took her through the dark house, through their bedroom, right into the bathroom.

Panic had her seizing up. She put her hand to her chest and tugged at the scrubs.

He paused, tightened his hold. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

She closed her eyes and buried her nose in his neck. She breathed in deep, savoring his scent. “I’m okay.”

Inside the dark bathroom, he mut
tered, “You ready?

“Yes.”

He flipped the light, exposing a whole bunch of nothing special. With the exception of the missing faucet in the tub, nobody would know anything happened here. “I don’t know if I can ever get in that tub again.”

“That’s okay. We can remodel.” He kissed her temple. “
And if that isn’t enough,
we can move. You just say the word.”

“Take me to bed.”

“You can barely keep your eyes open.” His genuine smile, in its sexiness, righted her world.

“I really need you to hold me.”

“I can do that.” He turned off the lights and took her to bed, holding her until they both fell asleep.

 

27

 

Ricky hadn’t liked leaving Shayne this afternoon. He’d been surprised they’d slept so late. Having Matt with X and Frankie sure helped
with the sleeping-
in side of things. He wouldn’t have left if Pierce hadn’t called him in for a meeting at the stadium.

A meeting, consisting of their freakin’ lonesome, where they discussed absolutely nothing
important
. Pierce
said
he wanted to make sure Ricky was tight in the head, since opening day wasn’t far off. He saw through the rouse. The whole thing had been crap. But damned if Ricky could figure out what the ulterior motive was.

In the short season and a half he’d known Pierce, the coach always shot straight, never tried to pull wool over anybody’s eyes.

Ricky rubbed at his eyes, making sure he didn’t have any stray strands. Pulling into his driveway, X was pulling out. Ricky put his foot on the brake, started to roll down his window. X raised a hand, but didn’t slow. Matt waved from the backseat, big, cheesy grin in place.

Just as he’d expected, something was up. And damn, Pierce pos
ed as conspirator. Pissed or touched
, he couldn’t decide. Depended on what met him when he got inside, he supposed.

As soon as he opened the door, his mouth began to salivate thanks to the smells coming from inside. “Shayne?”

“In here.”

He followed the sound of her voice into the dining room, the one room he had never used. Soft candlelight danced in the dusky darkness. Shayne sat in a chair, wearing a silky, nearly see-through robe.

She held up a hand. “Before you get mad, I didn’t do a thing. I sat right here and told them what to do.”

“Please tell me you weren’t wearing that.”

Her grin knocked him on his ass. “No. This is for you.” She loosened the lapels, showing off more of her cleavage.

“You’re killing me,
mujer bonita
.”

“As I was saying. I made you dinner.”

“It smells amazing, but we could have just ordered pizza or something.”

She shook her head, bit down on her lip. His
groin
took notice. She sat back in her chair. Her face grew serious. “I’m not very good with words, but I am good with food.”

“And the way to a man’s heart is through
h
is stomach?”

She laughed softly. “Something like that.” She motioned toward the seat adjacent to hers. “Come on, this is better warm.”

He sat. Unable to help himself, he lifted his plate to his nose. The scents mingled in his nose, making his tastebuds jealous.

“I’ve never made this for anybody before. I hope it’s good.”

“What’s it called?”

“Shayne’s I-shoulda-told-you-the-truth-and-I’m-sorry Steak.”

“Sounds delicious.”

He cut into the steak, making sure to scoop up some mushrooms and onions into the bite. He nearly climaxed. Okay, maybe that was a bit dramatic. His inner
bwahaha!
came out
on
a groan as the flavors mingled.

“Shayne, that’s amazing.”

“Thanks.” Healthy color darkened in her cheeks and he thanked God for the blessing of that health. He’d
always
considered himself a lucky man, but sitting across the table from this beautiful woman, his wife, he
couldn’t deny
being the luckiest damn man in the whole world.

Other books

Threads by Sophia Bennett
Follow the Elephant by Beryl Young
Players by Don Delillo
Witch Interrupted by Wallace, Jody
Ivory Lyre by Murphy, Shirley Rousseau
Butternut Summer by Mary McNear
The Last Thing I Saw by Richard Stevenson