Renegade Hearts (The Kinnison Legacy Book 3) (15 page)

Tears squeezed past her eyes. Thoughts of never seeing Emilee again, of never having the chance to tell Dalton about Emilee, to hope he could forgive her. She fought against his grip, unwilling to give up. “You won’t do this to me again,” she yelled, bringing her boot heel-down hard on the top of his foot.

His grip loosened, but before she could turn to jab his eyes, he regained control and slammed her face against the back end of the car. Her teeth felt jarred loose and she saw spots, but she knew if she blacked out now she’d have no chance of survival. She summoned everything inside, turning and twisting until she could stab her fingertips into his eyes.

“You crazy bitch!” he screamed, and she felt his iron fist pound more than once into her ribs.

Doubled over, she fought to breathe. Another blow came, across her back this time. She dropped to her knees.

“You stupid bitch, did you really think you could go hand-to-hand with me?”

The toe of his boot slammed into her side and she felt her rib snap. Her breath came in short gasps as she tried curl herself into a ball and protect her side from the repeated blows. He grabbed her shoulder and tossed her to her back. Unable to move, she lay there, her face swollen, barely able to see. He stood over her. The streetlight glinted off the silver blade in his hand.

“It’ll look like a robbery. You stupidly tried to stop it and the unfortunate happened.” His voice was cold, calculating.

“Please don’t. Think of Emilee…our child.” It was all she had left. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

He squatted down beside her, his eyes full of hatred. “Emilee’s not mine, and for that I’m damn grateful. I never wanted kids and especially not with you. Did I forget to mention I was sterile?”

Bile rose in her throat. “Then why? Why’d you stay?” she asked. Her face throbbed; she tasted the tang of blood on her split lip.

He twisted the tip of the knife against his forefinger, holding it just above her face. “I needed a cover, sweetheart. Someone who’d play the part of the good wife, not ask questions. You were so damn hopeful that you could change me. It worked like a charm, until you started listening to that nosy ass neighbor of yours.”

“Ellie? God, no, tell me you didn’t hurt her.” She winced at her pain, ached for her friend, the one who’d helped her through everything.

“Needed a car when I got out. Let’s just say she wasn’t very compliant.” Tony grinned.

How had she been so blind not to see this monster behind her husband’s face?

“You don’t have to do this,” she pleaded, trying to inch away. She closed her fist around a small pile of gravel. He snorted as he grabbed her by the front of her shirt and hauled her to her feet. He brought her face close to his.

“Paybacks are hell, sweetheart.”

She tossed the gravel in his face and, at the same time, felt a searing pain in her lower left side. Then there came a roar, almost deafening, followed by the sound of tires on gravel. She didn’t know what happened, where Tony had gone. Her body gave out and she slid to the ground, glad for the chance to close her eyes.

“Angel, no! No, sweetheart, you stay with me,” the frantic voice urged. “Help is on the way. Godammit, stay awake.” Something was patting her cheek. She shook her head. It hurt. She wanted to rest, if she could just rest. Through a blurred haze of exhaustion and pain, she saw Dalton’s face leaning down, cradling her head in his lap. She tried to smile. “Dalton.”

“Ssshh, save your strength.” She winced as he applied pressure to the throbbing pain in her side.

“It was Tony. My ex-husband…Tony.” She grabbed his wrist, fighting to stay awake. She needed to tell him. She didn’t want him to find out from someone else if she didn’t make it. “There’s something I need to tell you,” she forced through the pain. Every breath grew more difficult, draining her energy.

“You can tell me later, Angel.” He stroked her cheek.

She shook her head. “No, if I—Dalton, it’s Emilee. She’s yours.” Tears leaked from her eyes, stinging her wounds. “That night--”

She saw the painful truth crumple his face. The sound of sirens grew close. “I’m so…sorry.” She just needed to rest, just for a moment.

“Don’t you leave me, Angel. Not now. Not when we’ve just found each other again. I know, baby. I know Emilee is mine. Stay with me. Come on, stay, Angel.”

She felt the warmth of a bright light, but was jostled from it by someone shaking her shoulder.

“Stay with me,” she heard the voice say.

“I see Jed,” she whispered, and the world went black.

Chapter Ten

Dalton stared at the bottle. He hadn’t opened it. He was scared to, afraid if he did, he wouldn’t be able to stop. He’d already gotten more than a couple of odd looks from patrons seated in the dive bar not more than a block from the hospital. Rancid stale smoke and booze permeated the wood and ancient ceiling above. But it was dark, quiet, and no one bothered him. And that’s exactly what he needed, except for maybe this bottle of Jack Daniels. He picked up the empty glass, still sparkling clean from the dishwasher.

“Hey, mind if I join you?”

He looked up and met Rein’s curious gaze. Curious for the same reason everyone else in the place was curious. Was he going to crack that bottle and pour himself a drink? He’d been staring at the damn thing for nearly an hour debating the same thing.

“Suit yourself; bartender’s a pretty nice guy,” Dalton replied. He held the glass in his hand, turning it slowly, watching the dim light glint off its surface. “You know, I’ve been sitting here”--he glanced at his brother--“thinking about drinking this. How good it would taste, how it’d make the pain go away. Then I thought, maybe if I made a pact with God, maybe if I swore off drinking for good, maybe he’d let her live.”

Rein ordered himself a soda, stopped the waitress, and made it two. He took off his hat and laid it in the seat beside him. “There’s no news yet. She’s still in surgery. How are you holding up?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t stand that waiting room any longer.” His brain had gone on autopilot when he’d heard that she needed emergency surgery to repair her kidney. He couldn’t think about it, didn’t want to think about the possibility of losing her. He shook his head, not allowing his thoughts to travel that road. “Did Michael and Rebecca make it?”

Rein nodded. “Just after you left. Wyatt stayed back with Aimee and the ranch.”

“And Emilee?”

“With her grandparents.”

It was awkward, him knowing that he was her father and her not aware of it. The kid still thought her dad was buried in Arlington Cemetery.

“She’s okay, Dalton. She’s a tough little kid.” Rein held his gaze.

“So, Aimee told you about the picture?”

Rein sighed. “Yeah, did you find out anything?”

Dalton’s mouth curled. “Yeah, I’m her dad.”

Rein leaned back in his seat. “That must have come as quite a shock.”

Dalton picked up the bottle and studied the smallest wording on the label. “You’ve no idea.”

“And Emilee doesn’t know?”

Dalton shook his head. “I just hope that when she gets through this, Angelique is going to want to tell her the truth.” He swallowed the fresh lump of pain that surfaced unexpectedly.

“Hey.” Rein leaned his elbows on the table. “It’s going to be okay. Everything is going to work out, you’ll see.”

Dalton rubbed his eyelids. His eyes were weary, bloodshot probably from the dam that had broken finally inside him. He had watched--his shirt covered in her blood--as they took her from him on the gurney, wheeling her into a fray of physicians barking out orders. He’d searched the halls for a restroom and, finding one in a secluded hall, went in, locked the door, and wept. Years of anger and bitterness toward his mom, regret for not appreciating Jed more, for not being there when Emilee was born, for not saving Angelique from the pain, she’d endured being married to that bastard.

“I understand that they caught the piece of shit who did this. Hiding out in a dumpster a couple of blocks away. Guess they followed a trail of blood.”

Dalton found some satisfaction in that. “She wouldn’t have gone down without a fight. Not my Angel.” He looked at Rein.  “He better pray they put him away for good, because I’ll be waiting for him next time.”

Rein finished one soda and offered a last chance to Dalton for the other. “I doubt you’ll have to worry about a next time. Attempted murder, along with premeditation, puts him in a new wing at the hotel.”

Dalton released a heavy sigh. He pushed the unopened whiskey bottle aside.  “You know, it’s the oddest damn thing. I came in here desperate for a drink, but the truth is I don’t have the stomach for it. I don’t want it, don’t need it. I don’t know, maybe the desire will come back, maybe it won’t. All I know is that I want to be able to tell her I don’t need it like I did. She and Emilee, that’s what I want. That’s all I need.”

Rein nodded. “And you’ll get the chance to tell her, Dalton. I know you will.” An old-fashioned ringtone sounded in Rein’s shirt pocket.

Dalton studied his brother’s face as he listened to the caller.

“Okay, we’ll be right over. I love you too, baby.” Rein tucked his phone away. “She’s on her way up to ICU.” He fished in his pocket and dropped a five on the table.

Dalton was waiting at the door before Rein could put his hat back on.

What was but a few moments seemed like an eternity as Dalton waited for Michael, Rebecca, and Emilee to spend a moment or two with Angelique. She was out still from the anesthesia, but they’d allowed her family to see her. Emilee and her grandmother stood beside the bed as Michael recited a prayer over his niece’s battered body.

Rebecca touched Dalton’s arm as they left the room. “Talk to her, let her know you’re here. It will help.”

He glanced at Emilee and she ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, holding on with a fierce grip. He swallowed hard and bent down to look at her. “We must be brave, Em. She needs our strength to get better.”

Emilee nodded, then leaned forward and hugged his neck. “I love you, Dalton.”

Daltons raised his eyes and met Rebecca’s shimmering gaze. He cleared his throat. “I love you too, Em. We’re going to get through this, all of us are. You go with your grandma now. I want to go see your mom.”

She stepped out of his embrace and turned quickly back. “Be sure to tell her that you love her, too.”

Dalton’s eyes watered. “I will, Em.” He nodded.

Swiping his hand across his eyes, he watched the pair walk down the hall. A nurse leaving the room nearly ran into him.

“Are you family?” she asked.

“Uh, yes, fiancé.” It wasn’t a total lie, just not quite a reality yet.

“Just for a few moments,” she told him. “She needs to rest.”

Dalton nodded and stepped into the semi-dark room. Intubated, she lay still, her head bandaged, face purpled from her injuries. He lifted her hand and silently willed every ounce of strength he had inside him to her. “I want you to know that Emilee is fine. She’s holding up real good. She’s got a strong will like her mama.” He looked toward the ceiling to summon his strength. Releasing a quiet sigh, he searched her face again. “I don’t know if you can hear me, Angel. But you need to come back to us, darlin.’ Emilee, your uncle and aunt--everyone—needs you. I need you.” He swallowed, reaffirming his resolve. “I know you think that things are too messed up to make it right, but they aren’t. Someone once told me that the things that matter, even if the pieces are scattered, are worth having if you have the patience to put it back together.”

He pulled up a chair close to her bed, and kissed her hand. “I love you and I want us—you, me, and Emilee—to be a family, a real family. And hell, I don’t know, maybe you’ll decide you want more kids and that’s okay by me.” He watched and waited for some sign that she’d heard him. The steady blip of her heart monitor was his only reassurance that she was still alive. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you. I’m sorry that my drinking kept you from seeing the man I truly am. And I hope you can see it in your heart to give me a chance to be a good dad to Em, a good husband for you.”

A loud buzz echoed in the room and several nurses invaded the space. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave now.”

Dalton was moved aside as several medical staff swallowed Angelique from his view. He felt as though his heart had stopped as he watched them prepare the paddles.

“Sir, you have to leave.” One of the nurses took him by the arm and gently led him into the hall.

“Is she--?” He couldn’t bring himself to say the word.

“We’re doing all we can, sir. Please, wait down the hall with the others.”

And she was gone. He stared at the closed blinds that cut off his view of what was happening inside.

***

“Dalton Kinnison?” A grim faced nurse stood at the doorway of the packed waiting room, scanning the more than two dozen family and friends from End of the Line. All waiting on word about Angelique.

Dalton pushed to his feet. “That’s me.” Confused, he glanced at Rebecca and Michael.

“Please, come with me.”

Dalton’s heart thrummed in his chest. It’d been more than an hour, maybe two, since they’d run him out of the room. He followed the nurse down the hall and arrived as one of the doctors was leaving Angelique’s room. “Is she going to be okay, doc?” He hadn’t realized he was clutching the poor man’s arm until the kind physician covered his hand and patted it.

“She’s had a little setback. Nothing we’d consider serious, however with this type of surgery the body has to reset itself. The next forty-eight hours will be the most crucial for her and the baby.”

Dalton’s brain stopped.
Baby?
“I’m sorry, did you say baby?”

The doctor, busy with signing off on a chart, was oblivious that he’d just sent Dalton’s world into a tailspin. “Yes, Mr. Kinnison. She was awake for a few moments before surgery and insisted that you should know, regardless of what happens.”

Dalton’s hand fell away, his arm limp. He backed up and leaned against the wall.
Baby?
He felt a tug on his hand and looked down to find Emilee holding it.

“It’s going to be okay, Mr. Kinnison. My grandma said so.”

He knelt and drew the young girl into his arms, holding her tightly, unaware until this moment how amazing it felt to hug your child.

She leaned back then, studying him with eyes that were wise beyond her years. “You’re my father, aren’t you?”

Another hit to the solar plexus. He blinked and swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. ‘Did your mom tell you that?”

She shook her head.

“Your grandma?”

A shy smile curved her lips. “I asked to see the picture that Miss Aimee took of us. It’s a pretty remarkable likeness.”

Tears stung at the back of his eyes. He swiped them and forced a smile, trying to keep his composure. “What would you think about that?” He sniffed.
Jesus.
Angelique had to make it. He covered his mouth, pushing away any thoughts to the contrary.

Emilee wrapped her fingers around his hand. “I think my mom needs you, and I think I need my daddy—my real daddy. And my little brother is going to need his daddy, too.”

Her smile lifted his heart, making him think damn near anything was possible. “Who told you…?”

She raised her tiny brow.

“Right,” he said with a smile. Dalton stood and took Emilee’s hand in his. He faced the doctor. “Can I take my daughter in to see her mother?”

The older man nodded as he brushed his hand over Emilee’s head. “She’s awake, but she needs her rest. You two keep it short.”