Page 22

Avery

I worked from home the next day.

With Carter injured, his threats against Declan, his quest for revenge, I didn’t need a seer to tell me he’d return. How, when, and where were the only questions I couldn’t answer. Trying to tune out Declan ordering Pete and Wendy to not run off with his Lego building blocks, nor to swat the tower he’d built into a ragged pile, I sat in the armchair with my laptop.

Hardly able to focus on the stock market, I idly watched as Wendy once again pounced on the structure Declan created, sending Legos tumbling.

“Really?” Declan said in the tone of someone twenty years older. “You can’t find something else to do?”

I smothered my laughter. He sounded exactly like me when I scolded him.

Wendy laid in the midst of the blocks, her tail lashing, and smacked Declan’s hand when he reached for his Legos. Undeterred, Declan patiently rebuilt the foundation while Pete draped himself across his shoulders like a furry stole.

Jacy stood in the kitchen doorway, watching the reconstruction efforts. Max ambled past her to also gaze at Wendy, who now rolled onto her back amidst the Legos, stifling Declan’s attempts to retrieve them. He sat back, his small hands on his hips, frowning ponderously.

“Don’t make me send you to your room,” he announced.

Max cocked his head to the side, his ears up and perked forward. He gazed intently at the front door.

My instincts drove me to my feet, tossing the laptop aside.

Carter’s boot kicked the door in, shattering the lock.

The gun in his hand barked, spraying my house with bullets.

Vaguely hearing Declan scream, I charged for Carter, my head down, intending to take him out with my hands on his throat. I caught his feral grin, his gun hand sweeping toward me, aiming the barrel at dead center.

My chest.

Max struck him first.

Carter yelled out as Max bit deep into his wrist, shaking his head, yanking, ripping tendons and shattering his bones. Yelling, Carter fought to free himself from Max’s fangs, his heavy weight, but that damn mutt merely held on, growling deep in his throat. I half-saw Carter’s free fist strike Max on his face and muzzle. Then I tackled him.

My body pushed Carter out the door and onto his back with me atop him. Max’s fangs ripped free of Carter’s wrist, but that didn’t deter my dog from lunging for Carter’s face. Max savaged his flesh, gouging deep bites into his flesh, blood gushing upward to splash my hands as I sought to strangle the life from the bastard.

Carter didn’t give up easily.

His healthy left fist slammed into my right ear.

The blinding pain shattered both my ability to see and to kill him. I rocked sideways, into Max, off balance. Carter wedged his knee between my legs and smashed it into my groin.

Holy hell.

The pain in my head was nothing to the white-hot agony in my nuts. Instantly, I became a writhing puddle of ooze, unable to think or fight. Carter kicked me off of him and staggered upright. Lifting my head a fraction, I saw him kick Max in the ribs and off the porch. Max yelped, hitting the grass awkwardly. But he was on his paws in a nanosecond.

Carter ran for his life.

Max, snarling as ferociously as any well-trained police dog, chased him. His teeth sank into Carter’s ass, his thighs, Max leaping upward to bite at Carter’s belly. As he had me, Carter kneed him aside and jumped into the opened silver Mercedes.

As Max sought to attack him, Carter slammed the door on his body. Max, yelping shrilly, backed from the car’s interior. He leaped again at the shut window, yet Carter had little trouble putting the Merc in gear and racing away, escaping down the street.

“Max,” I groaned. “C’mere.”

Panting, his tongue hanging halfway to his chest, Max trotted across the yard to me. He nuzzled my face, whining, urging me up, to take charge as I’m supposed to. I managed to gain my knees when Declan’s screams pierced my hearing.

Fuck!

With Max at my side, I limped into the house, not caring that the broken door let in the deep winter chill. I saw nothing save my screaming, crying son in Jacy’s arms, blood streaming from a gunshot wound. I didn’t know what part of him had been hit. Blood staining her face, Jacy looked up at me with a mixture of rage and panic.

“Wrap it, his arm,” Jacy yelled. “Slow the bleeding.”

I ran past them to the kitchen and grabbed towels from the drawer. While Jacy tried to soothe Declan, rocking him gently, I bound his upper arm with several towels.

“Ambulance,” I muttered, staggering to me feet.

“No.” Jacy stood with Declan in her arms. “No time. You drive.”

After shutting the door and blocking it with the chair, I, my hands shaking, led the way to the garage. Fortunately, the SUV started with the push of a button, or I may not have gotten it started. I opened the garage door and backed the car up so fast I nearly took the door with us.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” Jacy muttered. “I know it hurts, just calm down, okay? I’ve got you. Daddy’s gonna get you to the hospital. You’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

Declan’s screams gradually quieted as I drove from town to the highway, then accelerated to over the speed limit. Weaving in and out of the few cars I overtook, I also kept an eye on Declan in Jacy’s arms.

“How bad?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“Can’t tell.”

I grit my teeth, forcing my panic in submission. “Is he still bleeding?”

“I think it’s stopped.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I glanced into Declan’s frightened eyes. “You’re gonna be okay, little man. You’re my brave boy. Aren’t you?”

For answer, he turned his face into Jacy’s bosom. Grim, my balls feeling as though they’d swelled ten times their normal size, I drove into the city traffic toward the hospital. Inwardly, I promised Carter a very nasty and painful death as I parked at the Emergency Department’s entrance.

“He’s been shot,” I yelled, leading Jacy, carrying Declan, inside. “Please, my son’s been shot.”

Trauma nurses swarmed around us.

They took Declan from Jacy and settled him on a gurney. By then, Declan’s skin had paled to a ghostly shade that scared me far more than the blood did. Helpless, I tried to follow my son into the trauma room but was pushed back.

“You can’t come in here.”

Jacy slid her arms around me, silent tears tracking through the blood on her face. “He’ll be all right,” she muttered into my chest. “Please tell me he’ll be all right.”

I tightened my grip on her, my face buried in her hair. “He’ll be all right. He has to be.”

***

Without much surprise, Jacy and I, holding hands, eyed Detective Jenkins as he ambled across the waiting room to us. Without speaking, he sat beside Jacy and patted her hand. As though a member of the family, he sat with us, waiting, watching the slow activity as other families awaited news of their loved ones.

“He’s a tough little bugger,” Jenkins said at last. “He’ll be okay. Right as rain.”

Struggling against tears, Jacy murmured, “Right as rain. Yeah.”

He patted her hand again. “The docs here, they’re great. They know what they’re doing, that’s for damn sure. They took care of you, right? Good job they did, yessir.”

For the next thirty minutes or so, Jenkins sat with us, not talking much. Not asking questions a cop should be asking the victims of a violent home invasion. I appreciated that more than I could ever tell him. In a sweet sort of companionship, we three waited for word of Declan’s condition.

At last, a surgeon in scrubs strode toward us. Instantly, I stood, bracing myself for bad news as I gripped Jacy’s hand tightly enough to hurt her. The doctor introduced himself and shook our hands. Even Jenkins’s.

“How is he?” I burst out before they finished their greetings.

“He’ll be just fine,” the surgeon replied. “The bullet didn’t penetrate, but it skimmed along his outer arm in a rather deep cut. The blood loss appeared worse than it was. We’ve stitched the wound, and I’d like to see him stay the night. Just for observation.”

I thought my knees planned to buckle and pitch me headlong to the floor. “Can we see him?”

“Sure. He’s lightly sedated, but he will be happy to see you. He’s down there. Ask the nurses at the station which room he’s in.”

With a friendly nod, the doctor left us.

“Oh, God.”

Sobbing, Jacy lunged into my arms. Near tears myself, I held her against my chest while Jenkins grinned and thumped my shoulder.

“Told you he’s a tough little bugger. Come on, quit crying, you two. Let’s go see him.”

I didn’t mind that he tagged along as Jacy and I found his room and went in. I ignored his presence upon my first sight of Declan. Lying on a hospital bed far too big for him, he was covered by a sheet with his right arm bandaged to his wrist. He opened his eyes as we loomed over his bed.

“Hi,” he said, and I thought I’d break into sobs right then and there.

“Hi.” Jacy bent to kiss him. “Good grief, did you do all this for the attention?”

Declan giggled. “Yeah.”

I, too, kissed him, forcing a smile onto my face. “I told you you’re a brave little man. Does your arm hurt?”

“Only a little. Can we go home now?”

“Not yet, baby,” Jacy replied, sitting beside him. “The doctors want you here until tomorrow. Just to make sure you’re okay.”

His small face wrinkled into a pout until he asked, “Can I have ice cream?”

“You know it.”

After that, Declan didn’t mind staying in the hospital at all.

***

“Carter?”

Jenkins pulled Jacy and me from Declan’s room once we’d calmed ourselves. We stood in the hallway as nurses and patients walked back and forth past us. Through the open door, I watched Declan play with the TV’s remote, channel surfing, then nodded. “Yeah.”

“I visited your house,” he went on. “A mess. Can you tell me what happened?”

Between us, Jacy and I told him everything, including Max chewing on Carter’s face and me getting a knee to my nuts. Jenkins nodded, smiling.

“Good dog. We went inside to start the investigation. He thought we were the best thing since Alpo dog treats were invented.”

Jacy chuckled. “He knows the bad guys from the good guys.”

Jenkins met my gaze, his smile gone. “Now you’re not planning a wee bit of revenge, are you? Going on a rampage to slay your future brother-in-law?”

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

“Oh, yeah. The laws of this county, state, and country say you can’t.”

“He put my son in the hospital,” I growled. “He could easily have killed him.”

“But he didn’t.” Jenkins wagged his index finger in my face. “Obviously, Max tore him up, bigly. Carter may seek medical treatment, and when he does, we’ll nail his ass. Without you, either of you, landing in a jail cell. Got that? You take Declan home, clean the house, fix the door, and stay put . If I find you roaming the country with intent to kill Jacy’s brother, I’ll sling you into a cell so fast you won’t have time to blink.”

Jenkens hugged Jacy and kissed her cheek. “We’ll get him, sweetie. Stay with your boy and trust in us. Okay?”

Jacy nodded. After shaking my hand, Jenkins strode away without ever seeing the menace in Jacy’s green eyes.