Page 31 of Danger Close (Mourningkill #3)

I’m Okay

Teri

I didn’t like the scent of the lemon disinfectant. The ammonia and bleach burned my nostrils, and the beeping felt like water torture. It was like an itch you couldn’t scratch, on a part of your body you couldn’t reach.

My blood-stained clothes had been replaced and bagged. Biohazards and evidence for an investigation that I knew would go nowhere. The only thing I would not let them take was Cobra’s leather jacket.

“I’ll pay to have your car cleaned,” I whispered to Charlotte who paced at the foot of my bed.

She paused, looking at me in confusion. “What?”

“I’ll make sure to have your car cleaned, and have it repaired if there was any damage.” I stressed the leather of Cobra’s jacket, wanting to wipe it clean of the events that happened. “Please send my apologies to Trinity for missing her wedding. If you can make an excuse, I would appreciate it—”

“What?” Charlotte said again.

“—but if you cannot think of anything, just tell her I left. Nothing else must be said about it.”

I kept trying to wipe at a particular red stain, my thumbs frantic to pull the imperfection from the soft black leather. My head was throbbing, my body ached. One eye was swollen shut, and even this slight movement hurt but I had to do something. I had to hide this somehow.

I had done it before. I’d cleaned my own apartment after Ray broke in ten years ago. This was the same thing, but just… larger.

“What are you talking about, Teri?” Charlotte asked, grunting in pain as she leaned forward.

She’d managed to come out with a few bruises, a sprained wrist, and swollen knuckles. Her face had a bruise on her forehead and cheek. She had a swollen, cut lip but was able to walk in, half carrying me. She’d rolled me onto a wheelchair, and then pushed me in.

Her husband would despise me after this.

“I’ll… I’ll handle your hospital bills, and whatever else you might suffer in the meantime. Just please let me know.” I’d need to get a second job to afford anything, but I could do it. I’d get on my feet again.

Why wouldn’t this stain go away? Why wouldn’t it rub off?

“I’ll pay Cobra back for the ruined dress as well,” I whispered, then amended, “somehow.”

God, I had no idea how I'd even get to work on it. Maybe I could work for the gym? They needed help, right? I could scrub floors…

“It will take me time but I’ll…”

“Teri,” Charlotte’s hand covered mine, stopping my frantic rubbing on the leather. My nails were starting to bleed again. I was putting more blood on it!

Fuck. I was an idiot.

“I’m sorry I brought this trouble to you,” I whispered in all sincerity as my hands trembled. “I’ll get out of your hair. I’ll get a bus ticket home.”

“What about Trinity’s wedding?”

“I’ll just upset her. Or I’ll bring trouble. This isn’t… I never wanted any of this to come near her. I’m so sorry.”

I should apologize to my daughter, but it was best if I left before she saw me like this. I don’t want her to see me like this. I don’t ever, ever want her to know what shadows are in my past. I don’t want this to be her last memory of me if… if something should happen.

“I don’t even know where to start with your nonsense,” she sighed with a slight laugh. “We’re both concussed. I’m going to let him deal with you.”

“What?” I asked, just as a nurse yelled, “Sir! You can’t go in there!”

“The hell I can’t!” Cobra’s voice boomed down the hall, echoing off the walls causing a flurry.

The sound of curtains whipping open and shut, as nurses and doctors said, “Sir? Sir! You can’t be here. Sir!”

“Where is my wife?” Cobra bellowed.

Charlotte lifted a brow at me, a smirk on her lips. “Speak of the devil.”

“Sir, what’s your wife’s name?” The nurse called after him.

“Teresa Louise Guerro .” He enunciated every syllable of my name.

“Here we go.” She rubbed her hands together, stepping away from the side of the bed.. “You ready for this?”

“Ready for what?” I whispered to her, but she didn’t answer me.

“Sir, can you prove that she’s your wife?” The nurse. Cobra’s heavy boot stomps were accentuated by the nurse’s hurried ones.

“Proof? You want fucking proof?” Cobra shouted.

I heard fabric, or leather, scraping. Something hard and plastic snapped.

“See that name? Joaquin Anatoly Guerro! She has my last name, and I'm not old enough to be her father, nor am I young enough to be her son. She’s definitely not my sister. So where is my wife? The mother of my child? I know she was taken here!”

“Sir, I need you to calm down.” The nurse’s voice was less-than-calm herself.

“I will calm the fuck down when I see my wife !”

“We’re in here, Cobra!” Charlotte called, the smile still pulling at her lip, splitting it even further until a trickle of blood fell down her chin. “Stop terrorizing the staff.”

The curtain separating me from the rest of the Emergency Room flew open. A terrifying, massive, furious Cobra stood in the opening, his nostrils flared, his graying hair wild like he’d been running his hand through it.

I yelped, fear coursing through my veins, flinching from the heat of his anger, lifting my hands to my head.

“Princess?” His voice was gentle, his fingers sweet as they caressed the back of my hands.

“I’m sorry!” I apologized first. I apologized always .

I had thought I still had my pride, but I’d given that up a long, long time ago. I just wanted to live. I wanted to survive. If bowing and begging for mercy got me there, then so be it. So be it…

“Jesus,” Cobra breathed out, as he reached for me. “Jesus Christ, what did they do to you?”

I held my breath as he pried my hands from my face.

He was a different man from the one that had torn the curtains open. The face that looked at me was filled with fear, hurt… sadness? I wasn’t sure. It broke my heart.

“I’m okay.” This time, I apologized to soothe the worry from his handsome face.

His lips pressed into a line, as his eyes went down to my throat, bruised from Ponytail’s forearm, and down further to the hospital gown that covered everything else.

“I’ll be okay. They didn’t do any permanent damage.” It was all I could say as I turned my hand so that our fingers could interlace. Comfort heated from where we connected.

“Give me a name.” His command rippled through me and I almost said it. Raymond Clark.

But the threat in the form of three letters was written on my skin. The message his friends had left.

I swallowed, settling on a truth because his piercing eyes would be able to detect my lies. “I don’t know who attacked us. I’ve never seen them before.”

Without letting my hand go, Cobra turned to Charlotte. “Do you have a name? Description.”

Charlotte sat down in an uncomfortable looking chair, one ankle crossed over her knee.

“First man was 6’2”, long black hair, kept in a ponytail.

Asian, brown eyes. Probably around 190 lbs in his mid-30’s.

” She rattled off more descriptions as if this was a routine thing she had to answer.

“Second man was caucasian, mid-40’s, but might be older.

It was dark. Black hair, probably Mediterranean.

5’11”, looking about 180 lbs. Gray eyes. Had a scar down his right eye—”

“Vertical or horizontal?” Cobra interrupted.

“Diagonal,” she continued. “Third man was the shortest. Probably 5’8”. A bit larger, maybe mid-40’s, wore a brown bomber jacket, brown hair, green eyes.”

“Who hurt her the most?” he asked.

“The Asian man.” Their conversation went on without pause. “Then the one with the scar. Those were the ones Mrs. Guerro fought off.”

She said my name with strange emphasis, her amused eyes sparkling.

“The 5’8” one with brown hair, I’d appreciate it if you left for me.” Why was she so damn amused?

“Done.” Cobra nodded as if they’d struck a bargain. “Beaufort is out front filling out papers for me. We’ll circle the wagons, get all Paradigm assets on this. I want those three men, and I want them yesterday. ”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Charlotte got up. “I’m sure Mack is burning rubber to get here, so I’ll meet him at the entrance before he throws a tantrum like you. The poor medical staff won’t appreciate a second hysterical male.”

She left, passing a man in a white medical coat on his way in. The stethoscope on his neck, and the name sewn onto his jacket declared he was a doctor.

“Why isn’t she in the ICU?” I flinched at the letters. Cobra didn’t turn to face away from me, even though he was addressing the doctor. “She’s not going home tonight, obviously, so why hasn’t she been moved to a permanent room?”

The doctor coughed, “Mr. Guerro…”

Cobra stiffened, his hand tightened around mine until I winced. The doctor recoiled, probably intimidated by the storm in Cobra’s hazel-green eyes. Or maybe just by the sheer size of him. I swear he was a foot taller than normal, towering over the poor doctor.

“How old are you?” Cobra’s voice was low and threatening.

The man sputtered like a broken sprinkler.

“I asked you a question, Doctor Martin.” The way Cobra said his name did not hint at any kind of friendliness.

“I’m… twenty-seven.”

“For fuck’s sake. You’re a fetus!” Cobra waved him away. “Get the fuck out of here, and send in a grown up.”

“Sir, I assure you that I know what I’m doing—”

“What school did you go to?”

“W-what?” The poor doctor stammered so badly that I felt awful for him.

“Joe,” I reached out, clutching at his sleeve.

“What school did you graduate from, Pipsqueak?” Cobra asked, unmoved by my plea.

“I-I went to NYU G-Grossman… S-school of Medicine.”

The poor man.

“Hmm,” Cobra said, his voice slightly less hostile now. “That’s a top ten, so I’ll allow it.”

“Thank you… sir?” The doctor was confused if that was a compliment, an insult, or not. I wasn’t sure either.

“Get her into her own room, Doogie Howzer,” Cobra said, his earlier cooling of hostility disappearing once again. “You’re dismissed.”

“Joe, I’m okay, really.” I let go of his sleeve, my hands too tired to even cling to him. The need to protect the young doctor was strong. He was just a child. And if Cobra needed to redirect his anger at me, then so be it. I could take it.

Cobra turned to me. His face and body went from anger to desperation in an instant. Like he was Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

“ You might be okay, Princess, but I am hanging on by a fucking thread.” He grazed the back of his knuckles against the side of my face.

I leaned into it, as much as I could without worsening my injuries.

“I’m going to make a phone call, and get your room situation handled. I’m going to call Trinity and —”

“No!” I shouted, and tugged on his sleeve. The fast movement pulled at something, and I winced as pain shot through my shoulder. “Please, don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asked, perplexed.

“Don’t call Trinity. Don’t tell her. I don’t…” Panic was setting in. “I don’t want her to see me like this. Please. Don’t bother her. Not before her wedding.”

“Baby, she’s going to want to know.”

“No!” I said far too loudly, but I couldn’t hear myself over the sudden roar in my ears. “I’ll just leave. She’s used to that. I’d rather disappear than let her see me like… like this. ”

Like a weak, frail woman that allowed this to happen through her own negligence and blind faith.

“Absolutely not!” Cobra said. “You’re going to the wedding.”

“No!”

“That is the only thing she wants!” Cobra’s voice echoed from the walls. The chatter outside the frail curtain partitions ceased. You could hear a pin drop.

I flinched away, pulling my hand out of his grasp to cover my breast. I held in my beating my heart, and protected myself from the brunt of his anger. I folded like an accordion, my entire being deflating from a simple raise of his voice.

Tears sprang in my eyes.

“Princess,” his voice gentled, as he stepped away from me, his hands behind his back like the first time he’d seen me in the guest room.

“You at her wedding is the only thing Trinity wanted from me. So you’re going to be there.

You’re going to look beautiful. And she’s going to have the perfect day. ”

Tears sprang in earnest, falling until they sparkled on the leather jacket I still clutched in my hand.

I swallowed to make a request, and hoped— prayed— that he’d grant it. “If you make me stay then, please, at least let me have that. Don’t let my daughter know that I… that I couldn’t stop this. That I…”

“Princess…”

“ Please! ” I lifted my gaze, letting the tears fall, hoping beyond hope that somewhere inside him he still cared enough to give in to me. Just this once. “I don’t want to be a burden to anyone. Especially not Trinity.”

I had learned that no man’s love made them bend or give. They loved possessions. But maybe… just maybe… Joe could give me this. Just once. Just…

“Okay.” His face went cool. All expression gone. “How are we going to hide this, then?”

He gestured to my bruised and swollen face.

“I can hide most of it with makeup.”

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing at his throat. In a low, but almost gentle growl, he whispered, “I hate that you know how to do that.”