Revenge (28 page)

The grief she had denied tore free. Pressing a hand to her mouth, she cried into it, deep, heaving sobs.
Get it out. Get them all out.
She swore after he left her she wouldn't shed another tear over Remy. To hell with that reasoning.

When the torrent finally ebbed, she cupped her hands under the gush of water and splashed it on her face. The cold shocked her. She scrubbed the snot and the dried gore from her face, neck, and arms until her skin flushed pink. By the time someone knocked on the door with a soft, “Ms. Lewis?” Cody had finished drying her arms. She fished out a ponytail-holder from her pocket and wrapped her curls into a sloppy bun.

A nurse greeted her when she opened the door. “Doc said he wanted to talk to you before he started surgery. Let's get down there.”

• • •

A light tap on the waiting room window brought Cody's head up. Kim, now wearing jeans and flowing blouse, entered with a cleaned-up Heath hot on her heels. Cody didn't bother to stand. She slumped against the padded backrest.

“Any word?” Kim asked as she set a paper bag next to Cody's feet and took the chair beside her.

“Nothing much. One of the nurses has been checking for me. It's slow going.”

Heath sank into a seat opposite them. “How long has he been in there?”

Checking the lone clock in the room, Cody sighed. “Two hours.”

Two hellish hours of not letting her imagination get the better of her. Of counting the minutes until the next update. Cody wanted to crawl into a hole and bury herself.

Kim rubbed her arm. “I brought a change of clothes and stuff if you want to take a shower.”

“I don't want to leave.”

Clasping his hands, Heath bent forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You have to, Cowgirl. Vic needs your clothes for evidence.”

“I've tainted 'em.”

“Savard's blood is still on them. It's enough.”

Kim squeezed her forearm. “We'll stay right here. I'll come get you if there's any change.”

Drained and beyond putting up a fight, Cody grasped the bag handles and trudged out of the waiting room and down the hall to the bathroom with a shower that a nurse had pointed out to her earlier.

Locking the door, Cody braced her back against it and stared at the ceiling. She didn't know how much longer she could hold on. The steady flow of adrenaline today and the Louisiana humidity had sapped her. Trying to stay strong for Remy wasn't helping.

She blew air through her mouth and pushed off the door. Emptying the bag, she shed her filthy clothing and placed them inside, then rolled down the top. A strangled laugh-sob escaped as she realized the things she'd learned from Remy about forensics were being put to use tonight.

Running the water hot, she stepped in and let the sting cut through the grime and agony. She watched the water puddling at her feet turn from pink to clear. Turning her face to the spray, she scrubbed away the lingering traces of the day's violence. The images she thought would come never did. She didn't relive the day's events, witnessing the death of Remy's abuser, or killing Jared Savard. It was like she hadn't been there. She, the woman who'd suffered horribly at the hands of PTSD, a silent tormentor. Cody doused her hair under the spray then lathered it. Finishing her clean-up, she cut the water and toweled dry. After dressing, she relished the feel of clean jeans and a T-shirt against her skin. When she returned to the waiting room, she handed over the paper bag to Heath. “I was careful how I folded them.”

He flashed a grim smile and set the bag next to his feet.

“The nurse brought these for you.” Kim held up a pillow and a blanket. “She said the doctor is still working. It might be a long night.”

Cody took the offered bedding and hugged them to her body. “Are you two staying?”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Heath said.

Kim plopped down on the single sofa and patted her lap. “Get some sleep, I'll watch.”

“What about you?” Cody asked.

“Apparently, daddy-dearest injected me with ketamine.” A dark look passed over Kim's face, making the nasty bruise blend in. “I got plenty of unwanted sleep today.”

Cody plodded over to her best friend and sat in the middle of the sofa. Kim took the pillow from her and propped it on her leg. After she lay down, Kim spread the blanket over her shoulders.

Staring at the waiting room's empty doorway, she felt her eyelids drooping. Kim started to stroke her damp curls, and the soothing motions pulled Cody further into the warm abyss.

Remy, come back to me.

The murmur of angry voices invaded her dreamless state. Awareness seeped into Cody, and the garbled voices became clear. She was lying on the sofa alone. Kim and Heath stood next to the windows with their backs to her, but she couldn't hear what they were saying.

A knock on the glass jolted Cody upright as the doctor shuffled into the waiting room and sank into the nearest chair. Swinging her feet to the floor, Cody stood.

Clenching a blue cap in his fists, the doctor nodded at them. “He's going to make it.”

Relief hit Cody like a tidal wave. She stiffened her legs, refusing to sit. “Why'd it take so long?”

The doctor scratched his forehead. “When I found the source of the bleeding, he crashed on me.”

Remy had died on the table. The news socked Cody, and this time her legs gave out. Heath managed to catch her before she hit the floor. Bracing her weight against him, he held her upright.

The doctor scooted to the edge of his seat. “Cody, that was the best place for it to happen. He's fine now. Once I got him stabilized, I repaired the damage to his spleen. I want to keep an eye on the head wounds. There are signs he has a concussion.”

“What about the shoulder?” Heath asked.

“Broke the collarbone. I reset it and stitched the wound. He'll need to see an orthopedic. That's it.”

Cody found her legs and freed herself of Heath's grip. “Can I see him?”

“He should be in ICU by now. I'm keeping him under to make sure the concussion doesn't become something more. You can see him, just obey the ICU nurses.” The doctor stood. “That man has been through hell from the scars I saw.”

“I know. And he's still here to cause more.”

• • •

Cody's gaze slid to Remy, and her heart sank. He looked worse than she'd expected. Hours ago he was moving and talking to her, kissing her. Now he was lying in a bed with wires and tubes coming out of him. At least he was breathing on his own, with only a thin oxygen tube under his nose. The bruises she could see peeking out from under the brown and yellow-stained gauze had darkened. She shifted to the end of the bed and tugged on her lip.

“Go ahead.”

She jolted at the nurse's voice.

“You can touch him.”

She gave the man what she hoped was a smile, yet it felt like she grimaced. Rounding the end of the bed and scooting up along the opposite side, she paused next to the spot where Remy's right hand rested. Avoiding the monitor clipped to his index finger, she slipped her fingers between his chilled ones. Though aware of his drug induced coma, a piece of Cody wished he'd respond to her touch.

The nurse made a final notation on his chart and slipped past the machines. “Watch your time,” he said and then exited the room.

Once she heard the latch click, Cody sank down until she crouched. With her cheek cradled on the bed, she brushed a kiss against Remy's bicep. “You stubborn, cocky Cajun. You almost let Paul win.” The beep of the heart monitor met her statement. Squeezing his hand, she sniffed. “Come back to me. I won't make it if you don't.”

Bringing his hand up, she placed a kiss on the back, then rested it against her other cheek. With her forehead pressed into his shoulder, she closed her eyes and soaked in his presence.

• • •

It took the doctor siding with her friends to get Cody out of the hospital.

Heath parked his truck in the garage next to Vic's Charger, and he and Kim went into the house.

Parked in front of the car was Remy's Harley. Cody hadn't seen it there earlier, having been focused on Remy and his injuries. She walked over to the bike. Placing a hand on the handle bar, she let it trail down the length of the bar to where it met the body. She let the memory of the last time she'd ridden it with him consume her as her hand glided to the seat.

She swung her leg over the bike and settled on the seat. If she thought hard, she could feel the wind whip against her face as he sped along the road, smell his unique scent of spice and cedar as it filled her senses.

Her gaze darted up and landed on Vic leaning on the hood of Heath's truck.

“I remember the first time I saw him ride that thing,” she said. “Marie was scared to death to get on.”

“How long have you known him?”

“We worked beat together. I'd been on the force for a few years when this cocky Cajun kid strode into the department.” Vic crossed her arms and leaned a hip against the truck grill. “Damn kid was looking to get himself shot.” She shook her head. “I still don't know why they assigned him to Savard.”

“Maybe Savard wanted it that way?”

“Maybe.” Vic pushed off the truck and turned back to the house.

Cody settled her arms on the handlebars and leaned forward. “Did you try to seduce my man?”

Vic froze then slowly rotated. “Did I
what
?”

A sly grin slipped along Cody's lips. “I thought so.”

Vic swore. “He turned me down, just so you know.”

Dismounting the bike, Cody strolled past it and then Vic. “Yeah. I know.”

Garbled noises seeped through the nothingness. He fought the heavy pull on his conscious. Another layer peeled away, and he recognized a beep, then a click and whirr. He faded into the black, letting it cradle his mind.

The sounds came at him a bit clearer now, the same beeps and clicks and whirrs. A new noise was added, a female voice cajoling him to wake. He tried to lift the lead weights on his lids, only managing slits. A haze of muted colors penetrated his brain before his eyes fell shut and the calm warmth pulled him back.

“Come on, you stubborn cuss,” a sweet voice dripping with all the best of Texas breeding hissed in his ear. “Wake up and look at me.”

The rush of sounds crashed on him at once. This time when he pried his eyes open, it was easier. He blinked then squinted against the stab of light. Gradually the haze cleared to the contrast of colors and focused into shapes. A beautiful face draped with red hair stared back at him.

She smiled. “There you are.” Her face turned away. “He's awake, Doc.”

Remy flinched as the numbness faded and pain rippled up from his abdomen. The beauty was replaced by a man.

“Welcome back, detective.”

Remy grunted.

The man chuckled. “You've got one determined woman there.” He gently pressed his fingers against Remy's stomach, stirring a hornets' nest of fiery pain. “I'd keep her if I were you.”

“I might . . . if you . . . stop.”

“Well, sounds like he's on the mend, Cody.”

Remy's eyes flared wide at the name. Cody. He found her standing at the end of the bed. She tucked her hair behind an ear and smiled at him.

“Hey,” he croaked.

“Hey,” she answered.

“Tol' you . . . I . . . was the . . . best.”

She snickered and pressed a hand to her mouth. Good, she remembered.

“Detective, you're going to feel groggy for a while longer,” the man in the white coat was telling him. “We're gonna move you to a private room. You're out of danger now.”

“When do you think . . . ” Cody's voice faded, “. . . missing me.”

“Hard to . . . ”

No, he couldn't be going under again. Remy fought against the drag of sleep.

“Sounds good,” Cody said.

What sounded good? Wait what—?

The stench of a hospital assaulted his nose. Remy grimaced at the disgusting taste in his mouth. When he tried to shift his body, pain like jabbing fingers stilled him. Opening his eyes, he looked down. He was propped part way up on a hospital bed covered in a partially buttoned gown and a white blanket and sheet. Under the gown he could feel the tug of tape and the rasp of gauze against his skin.

He tried to lift his left hand and discovered it trapped to his side.
What the hell?
He managed to move his right hand well enough and used it to pat the bulk on his shoulder.

A memory slapped him. He'd been shot there. His hand roamed to his stomach as he recalled why his midsection hurt so badly. Hadn't he only been punched there? It shouldn't need tape and gauze. Something poked his fingers through the fabric, and he recognized that stiff thread. Stitches?

Startled at the female moan to his right, his gaze darted over, landing on a mussed Cody as she reached up to rub the back of her neck. She was sprawled on what looked like a recliner. She looked his way and froze.

Slowly her hand dropped to her lap and she smiled. “Mornin', Sleeping Beauty.”

“Funny,” he rasped. God, he sounded like a sick horse, and his tongue felt like a sun-dried tomato.

Cody held out a cup with a straw. He tried to grasp the flimsy thing, but his hand suddenly felt like a dead weight. Taking pity on him, she brought the straw to his mouth.

After he sucked down most of the cool water, he let his head fall back against the pillows. “I feel like a weakling.”

She set the cup on a stand and settled on the edge of the bed. “Well, technically, you are. Major surgery does that to ya.”

He frowned. “Surgery? For what?”

“That beating you took lacerated your spleen.” Cody fiddled with the blanket. “You were bleeding internally. It's why you passed out.”

Dumbfounded, he stared at her.