Over the Line (24 page)

My heart stalls in my chest. “Why are you still here?” is all I can think to say.

“He refused to get on the plane when he heard what had happened,” Wes answers with an irritated undertone.

“Sherm? The twins?” I ask, my heart racing.

“They’re at home,” Rob says, stepping into the room.

I pull myself up straighter and feel a tug in my stitches. “We’re staying?”

Wes splits a wary glance between us. “That’s still to be determined.”

“Savoca was the threat,” Rob says, holding Wes in his pointed gaze. “You’re telling me his WITSEC status is legit, so the way I see it, there’s no reason to leave.”

“That’s up to the DOJ,” Wes answers, moving past Rob to the door. He looks back at me before he passes through, and his sad smile relays more than words ever could.

“That’s really how you feel?” Rob asks, moving to the side of my bed. “About Savoca?”

“Silva,” I correct.

His eyes widen.

I grasp Rob’s hand. “He did that for me. To give me back a piece of Mama.”

Rob lowers himself into the chair near the bed.

“And everything I said to Wes was true. I love him, Rob.”

He nods slowly. “And you honestly trust him?”

“I do. I trust him with my life.”

“I guess that’s what we’re all doing,” he says, shooting a glance out the door. “How the hell did this even happen, you and him?”

I take a deep breath. “It started as vengeance, just like everything we did back in Chicago. I hacked their gambling program and changed the payout ratios. I knew it would cripple them financially, so it felt poetic, turning Oliver’s own strategy back on him. But in order to get the information I needed, I had to get . . . close to him.” I cringe and look away. “We were together for a year before I was able to break his encryption code. That was four days before the attempt on our lives. I thought the contract was Oliver’s revenge on us for what I’d done.”

“I’m still not convinced it wasn’t him,” Rob says, his expression darkening.

“I am, Rob. I’m begging you to trust me on this.”

“I know Savoca’s not the only possibility, so I’ll try to keep an open mind. That’s the best I can promise.”

“So, you’ll give the bride away?” I ask tentatively.

His jaw tightens. “If that’s what you want.”

I blow out a slow breath. “Does Adri know you didn’t leave?”

“Not yet,” he says with a slow shake of head.

“You need to tell her, Rob. She’s dying.”

He leans back in his seat and slides his hand into his pocket, then comes out with something small looped over the tip of his thumb. When I focus on it, I realize it’s a diamond set in a thin gold band.

“Oh my God!”

“I’ve been fighting with myself over this.” He stares at the ring as he speaks, rolling it along his thumb. “Adri’s not like Savoca. She wasn’t born into the Life. This isn’t her world. I do this, I drag her into the mud with the rest of us.”

“And if you don’t, you’ll both be miserable for the rest of your lives. You’re not saving her from anything, Rob.”

His eyes lift to mine and darken. “I’m saving her from
me
.”

I blow a laugh out my nose and shake my head. “Sorry, but that boat already sailed.”

He closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

“What are you really afraid of, Rob?” I ask softly.

He looks at me a long moment, but just as he opens his mouth to answer, Oliver strides through the door. Rob stands and shoves the ring back into his pocket. There’s a tense moment when they stare each other down.

But on Oliver’s heels, an older Indian-looking man in hospital scrubs and paper hair cover steps through the door. “The nurse said you were awake,” he says, crossing toward the bed. “How’s our patient today?”

“Good,” I answer as he picks up the chart hanging from the rack on my footboard.

“Much pain?” he asks, coming to the side of the bed and lowering the rail.

“No. Just a deep throbbing here,” I say, lifting a hand to the bandages. “And some pulling when I move.”

He purses his lips as he nods. “That’s all to be expected.” He pokes at my abdomen. “Any of this tender?”

“Not really,” I say.

“You’re not distended, so everything looks as it should.” He lifts the rail again and leans on it as he makes a note in my chart. “We’ll taper you off your IV pain meds over the next thirty-six hours and if you’re still feeling good by tomorrow night, I don’t see a reason you shouldn’t be able to go home the following morning.”

I bend my knees and boost myself higher in the bed. Everything seems to work. “That would be great.”

“Lee?”

I look toward the door and smile at Adri’s voice as Chuck slips in the door behind her, but she’s not looking at me. Her wide eyes are locked on my brother, and her face has gone ashen.

“I’ll put in the new orders,” the doctor tells me, “and I’ll be back in tomorrow morning to check on you.”

“Thank you,” I say as he turns to leave.

Oliver moves around my bed and takes my hand, assessing the sudden crowd warily. Rob is too preoccupied with Adri to notice or object. The doctor passes Adri on his way out, which seems to snap her out of her daze. She steps into the room.

“My father heard you were here. Are you okay?” Her words are directed at me, but her gaze never leaves Rob.

“Yeah.” My hand migrates to my side. “It was just . . . an accident.”

Finally, Adri’s eyes find me, then shift to Oliver. She moves forward to the edge of my bed, next to Rob, and reaches across, extending a hand toward Oliver. “You must be Oliver. I’m Adri, a friend of Lee’s.”

At Adri’s name, his eyes snap to me then Rob and widen slightly as the pieces come together for him. He knows the significance.

Chuck comes forward and shakes Oliver’s hand. “And, who are you to Lee?”

“Her fiancé,” Oliver says, shaking it.

Next to me, I see the knuckles of Rob’s fingers blanch as he grips the bed rail harder.

The corners of Adri’s eyes crease for a moment, as if fighting off pain, but then her face blooms into a smile brighter than the sun, all the melancholy lifting like summer fog. “Congrats, Lee!” she says, leaning over the rail to give me a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”

“The wedding is tomorrow at ten in the hospital chapel,” Oliver says, mostly to Adri, though I know it’s his way of inviting my brother without pushing. “Any of you available to witness this thing and make it legal?”

“Are you kidding?” Adri beams. “Of course we will.”

Rob clears his throat and when I glance his direction, I see him fingering the ring that only I know is in his pocket. But when he pulls his hand out, the ring isn’t in it. He gives Chuck a clap on the shoulder. “Thanks for looking after things here,” he says, his eyes slipping to Adri.

“Are you staying?” Chuck asks.

The whole room goes quiet, waiting for Rob’s reply. His gaze shifts to Adri as his hand slips back onto his pocket. “If I have anything to say about it.”

Adri lets out a sigh, tears pooling in her big blue eyes, then grabs his hand and tows him out of the room. He doesn’t resist and they disappear around the corner without a word.

I watch after them for a moment, praying that my brother doesn’t shoot himself in the foot, before looking up at Oliver and squeezing his hand. Wouldn’t it be incredible if, after everything, we could all find happiness?

***

When Oliver strides into my room at nine thirty the next morning, my nurse, Alma, shoos him out the door. “Ain’t no way you’re seeing the bride before the wedding,” she chides, pointing him in the direction of the chapel and closing the door in his face.

“I just love weddings!” she sings, coming back to the bed. She looks me over. “You got that Malibu Barbie thing going on, don’t you, girl? Lots to work with here.”

My legs feel steadier than my head when she helps me to my feet. She must see me sway because she helps me settle into the wheelchair.

“Just gonna make sure that man of yours ain’t trying to sneak a peek,” she says, sticking her head out the door. She must find the coast clear, because she rolls me out the door to a bathroom next to the nurses’ station. “We got to make this quick, Barbie-girl. Shower up and I’ll take care of the rest.” She starts the water running, then pulls my gown back and looks over my dressings. “I’ll take these bandages off. You got stitches and Steri-Strips, so you don’t need them if it ain’t bleeding no more. Go ahead and get it wet. Scrub it up good.”

I’m so used to giving the instructions that I can’t stop the chuckle.

She looks up at me as she pulls back the tape. “Something funny, Barbie-girl?”

“Not really. I’m just surprised it doesn’t hurt more.”

“You got lucky,” she says, starting on a second bandage on my back. “Bullet went straight through and didn’t hit no bone. It’s the bone what hurts.”

Like when I tried to kill Oliver and broke his rib instead.

She slips my hospital gown off my shoulder and threads the IV bag through the sleeve, then hangs it on an IV pole in the corner and rolls it into the shower. “There’s soap and shampoo in there,” she says, gesturing to the shower as she helps me to my feet. “I’ll be right outside the door. You just pull that cord on the wall if you need me.”

I step into the shower as she clicks the door shut. The warm water feels good on my itchy skin. I look down and see a small, stitched incision at the bottom of my ribs covered in clear plastic adhesive strips. I feel around the back and find more Steri-Strips back there. Entry and exit, just like Oliver. They’re sore to touch, but, surprisingly, they don’t really hurt too much when I lift my arms to shampoo.

Once I’m cleaned up, I crank off the water and step out, rolling the IV pole at my side. On the stainless steel shelf over the sink, there’s a sealed package with a toothbrush, comb, and a travel-sized tube of Crest. I brush my teeth and am just starting to work the comb through my snarls when there’s a knock.

“Just me, Barbie-girl,” Alma says, stepping through the door. “It ain’t quite a wedding dress,” she says, holding up what looks like a folded blanket in her hand, “but at least it’s white.”

In her other hand is a small blue tote bag with the hospital logo on it.

“Took up a collection at the nurses’ station. Got some clips, combs, and a blow-dryer for your hair.” She shakes out the white thing, and I see it’s a robe. “Put this on.”

I hold my arms out and she slips the IV bag through the sleeve then drags the robe up my arms. I pull the sash tight and tie it in a knot in front. Alma spends the next fifteen minutes combing, drying, and styling my hair into a loose bun. She looks at my reflection in the mirror. “Needs the finishing touch,” she says, then slips out the door, leaving me standing here staring at myself.

Mama’s staring back at me out of the mirror, looking exactly how she did in our last happy moment: clear hazel eyes, tendrils of sandy hair spiraling down the sides of her thin face, her cheeks aglow. I hear Papa’s baritone, and see the way Mama looked at him, starry-eyed, when he clasped the chain around her neck. All my life, everyone who knew her has told me how much I look like her. I never realized how right they were until just this second.

“I’m getting married today,” I whisper to her, lifting a finger to the mirror and touching her chin. “I miss you, Mama. I miss you so much.” Hearing it out loud causes tears to spring to my eyes and a lump to form in my throat.

Alma steps back in with a mass of tiny daisy-looking flowers. “Mrs. Grubber will never know they’re missing from her bouquet,” she mutters as she starts separating stems and arranging them in my hair.

“Thank you,” I say, still a little choked up.

She looks me over and grins. “Damn, Barbie-girl, you look good. I might marry you myself. That’s legal in Florida now, you know.”

I’m not usually a hugger but I’m so overcome with gratitude I wrap my non-IV arm around her. “I mean it. Thank you so much.”

She pulls back and smiles, then sets me in the wheelchair. “Gotta get you to the church on time, girl. Don’t wanna keep Hot Stuff waiting.”

“Don’t you have other patients?” I ask as we roll through the door into the hall.

“Got off shift half an hour ago. I’m all yours, Barbie-girl.”

When she rolls me through the doors of the back of the tiny hospital chapel, Oliver is sitting in the first of three rows of short pews with a blond middle-aged woman I don’t know. His back is to me and it looks like they’re deep in conversation.

Ulie attacks me, leaning down to wrap me in a bear hug. “Rob wouldn’t let us come yesterday. Are you okay?”

Oliver must hear her, because he stands and turns to face me. His eyes widen and there’s a full second he just stares, those green eyes taking in every inch of me.

“I’m good,” I tell her, then smile at Oliver. “Better than good.”

Adri comes over from where she and Rob were talking quietly in the corner and hugs me. “You look amazing, Lee.”

“Everything okay?” I say low in her ear with a glance at Rob.

She follows my gaze. “You know your brother. He’s going to over-think everything. But yeah.”

Grant tucks his phone into his pocket as he and Sherm stand from the pew near the door. “You’re really going to the dark side?” he asks with a nod at my soon-to-be husband.

Butterflies erupt in my chest as Oliver smiles back at me. “I am.”

“I guess this means we’re ready,” Oliver says to the woman next to him.

She nods and positions herself at the front of the center aisle. Oliver stands to her right.

“She’s the hospital chaplain,” Ulie says to me, handing me a bouquet of lilies.

Adri, Chuck, and Polly settle into their seats as Rob comes around behind me and grasps the handles of the wheelchair. “Last chance to change your mind,” he says low in my ear.

“Keep dreaming,” I answer.

Ulie moves in front of me, then glances over her shoulder. “There’s no music, so just tell me when to go.”

“Go,” I say, my eyes slipping to Oliver.

The tiniest of smiles twitches his mouth, but his eyes are smiling so brightly it hurts to look at them. God, I love this man.

Ulie moves slowly, as if moving to a wedding march only she can hear, and Rob rolls me up the aisle behind her. We’re only halfway there when I see Alma slip into a seat in the front row. She flashes me an enormous smile and pumps her fist, making me laugh.