Текст книги "Coup De Grace"

Автор книги: Lani Lynn Vale

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

***

“Do you need some clothes?” I asked softly.

He shook his head. “No. I’m gonna go straight to the station and change into my workout gear. Thanks for the offer, though.”

Smiling, I punched in the code that would get me through the door, but stopped when Michael called my name.

“Nikki?”

I turned to find him staring at me.

His eyes full of pain.

“You…you want to catch dinner and a movie this week?” He asked hopefully.

I blinked, then a small smile split my face. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

He nodded, turned, and walked out of the building. Not once glancing back.

And there I was left in the hallway, practically bouncing on my toes in excitement.

Then I turned around, and the smile slowly fell from my face when I saw Joslin standing there, her eyes full of fire.

Choosing to ignore her, I walked past her with a muttered, “Excuse me.”

But I knew that wouldn’t be the end of it.

Not even close.

Chapter 3

Friday. My second favorite F word.

-Coffee Cup

Michael

Needless to say, I was very late showing up to my mother’s party.

By over an hour.

I was wearing a white t-shirt and black jeans that had so many holes in them that they could technically qualify as shorts.

And my tattoos were showing.

Something my mother was definitely not going to like.

But it couldn’t be helped.

I could either go home and change, and make her happy because I was covering my tattoos and be later. Or I could be late-ish and come uncovered.

It was a lose-lose situation, and I really could care less at this point.

I wanted to have this dinner about as much as I wanted my nuts cut off.

Alas, I loved the hell out of my mom, and would suffer greatly for her happiness.

Kind of like having to share a fucking dinner with my ex. She was the worst mistake of my life, yet my mother refused to tell her to fuck off.

Pulling up to my parent’s house, I got out and dropped to my feet.

I drove a jacked up Ford F-150, much to my parent’s consternation.

We were a car family, pure and simple.

Or at least they were, not me.

I loved my truck.

I could get it dirty and not worry about the interior because that was what trucks were for.

Shoving the keys into my pocket and turning to grab the pie I’d had in my truck since this morning, the coffee cup that I’d downed the moment I got into my cruiser fell to the floor.

My eyes lit on it, and I smiled, thinking about how Nikki had given it to me.

She knew me well.

Or as well as I let her know me.

She knew me better than my entire family, and she’d only ascertained the information in about ten total meetings.

She’d gotten more from me in one night than Joslin had gotten from me in a year and a half.

“About time you showed up,” my brother, Dean, said lazily from the glider in the middle of my parent’s yard.

Bending down, I picked up my coffee cup and placed it gently into the cup holder of my truck before gripping the pie and slamming the door.

“Yeah,” I muttered, walking up the front walk.

“Heard about your day. Sorry man,” my brother said sincerely, blowing out a breath of smoke he’d just inhaled from his cigar.

My brother and I weren’t what you would call ‘close.’

We were family, of course, but that’s where that ended.

He was the prodigal son. The one who did everything right, while I did everything wrong.

And sometimes it was hard not to resent that.

Really hard.

“Thanks,” I muttered, opening the door once I came to it.

The first thing I noticed was that no one was in the living room where they usually were, and that I could smell dinner wafting from the kitchen.

The smell turned my stomach.

Eating was the last thing I wanted to do right then.

Not with the memory of Baby Nathan’s blood pouring out of his body as I held him on the way to the hospital.

“He’s not coming, I think we should just eat,” Joslin said huffily.

I rolled my eyes as I made my way down the darkened hallways that would lead to the kitchen and formal dining room where I assumed they were all gathered.

“He’s coming. He texted me when he was leaving the hospital,” my sister, Hannah, defended.

Hannah and I were the closest in age.

Irish twins.

She was born ten months before me, in the same year.

Me, being the baby, was the surprise that everyone still liked to point out was the accident.

“Thanks, Hannah,” I said, walking into the kitchen and placing my pie on the countertop. “I’m here, so the party may begin.”

The last was said once I was in the dining room, which meant everyone turned to watch me walk in the room.

My father and Hannah didn’t bat an eyelash at my attire.

My mother and Joslin, though, did.

Not that I cared.

Nor was I surprised.

Taking the seat to the right of my dad, and directly next to Hanna, I placed both hands in my lap and waited, like the good boy I was, for dinner to be served.

Which only happened once Dean made his way back inside from his smoke break.

All the while, I spoke with my sister about her daughter, Reggie.

Reggie was a boisterous two and a half year old that was with her ex-husband for the night.

“Reggie told me I was to ‘watch my step’ today because I was telling her what to do. Can you believe that? I bet Joshua taught her that one, too,” Hannah said snottily.

I snorted.

Needless to say, Hanna and her ex didn’t get along.

Not even a little bit.

“Actually,” I amended. “That was me. I’m sorry. I said that to her two days ago when I was watching her.”

Hannah sighed. “I guess I should be happy you didn’t teach her how to say cuss words, I suppose.”

My father snorted. “You and Michael were cussing by the time y’all were three and four. Mainly because your Uncle Paddy thought it’d be funny to teach you them. It was real exciting to slam on my breaks to avoid hitting a car and have the two of you say ‘fuck you’ and ‘what the fuck’ respectively.”

Hannah giggled while I laughed.

My mother, on the other hand, didn’t.

Apparently, she didn’t find it funny.

“Alright, we can eat now,” Joslin cooed as Dean made his way into the room, breaking the silent death glare I was getting from my mother.

Once grace was said by my father, he started to serve himself, and passed the dish around the table.

Once I dished up two pieces, I passed it to my sister, and then so on.

We didn’t do a sit down dinner often, but when we did, we were expected to actually sit down at the table instead of in front of the TV like we wanted to.

“It’s good, Beth,” my father said around a mouthful of food.

My mother smiled. “Thanks.”

I looked down at my untouched food, and couldn’t say the same.

It reminded me of the gore from the double wide.

What I’d later learned was a cop from a neighboring city, and his wife, who was a stay at home mom to their ten month old.

And as I picked at my food, I couldn’t help thinking about the cop.

What had happened?

Had he slipped through the cracks?

Had he needed help, and no one noticed?

Would I have noticed had he been my friend?

If someone had intervened, would the mom still be alive? Would that baby growing in her belly still be sheltered in her mother’s womb?

“Michael, Joslin tells me you had an interesting day,” my mother said, bringing my attention from my plate to her.

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. Nothing special.”

Joslin, never one to let something go, sat forward.

“You saved that baby’s life. You’re the reason that he’s alive! You’re the talk of the hospital,” Joslin crowed.

I shrugged, not answering.

I really, really didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Like really.

So much so, that if she continued not to catch the hint, I might have to leave.

“Well, I have some news,” my brother said, breaking the awkward silence.

I turned my attention to him, and saw him watching Joslin weirdly.

“We’re engaged!” Dean smiled, holding Joslin’s entwined hand up with his.

I blinked, surprised.

My mother, who loved Joslin to pieces, stood up and clapped loudly.

My father and Hannah, though, turned to me, watching me for a reaction.

I shrugged again.

I didn’t care.

I should warn Dean, though.

They didn’t know why Joslin and I had broken up.

They only thought that the dissolution of our marriage had happened because we’d fallen out of love. Joslin had practically begged me not to tell them because she and my mom had grown so close.

“Congratulations!” My mother crowed excitedly.

“You okay?” My father asked worriedly.

That was when I realized he’d known.

That was what the hesitation had been about earlier.

“Fine, why?” I asked.

Hannah looked at me, almost as if she was waiting for me to break apart.

“You’re sure?” She asked persistently.

I nodded. “Yeah. It’s good for them,” I lied.

I really should’ve told them why we’d split. Yet, I couldn’t because Joslin had acted like…well…Joslin.

“Mom,” I said, standing. “Do you mind if I have a sandwich? After today, this isn’t very…appealing.”

I had to eat no matter what. My medication couldn’t be taken on an empty stomach or it wouldn’t be absorbed correctly. And if it wasn’t absorbed correctly, then we’d be in a very different situation than we were now.

My mom looked at me, and I mean really looked at me, and she saw right through my flippant attitude and immediately dropped Joslin’s hand and started hustling to the kitchen.

I followed her, keeping my eyes on my mother’s back instead of on Joslin’s annoyed face, and Dean’s pissed off one.

Whoops.

Spoiled their big reveal. My bad.

She may love Joslin and Dean, but she loved her baby boy more. Tattoos, disappointment, and all.

“They told me about today,” she whispered once she was in the kitchen.

“I…I don’t like it. I feel like I should’ve done more. Been faster. I don’t know. He was a police officer,” I told her.

That tid-bit hadn’t been released as of yet.

So when she gasped and whirled around, a block of cheese in one hand, and a Tupperware of cold cuts in the other, I realized I’d surprised her.

“What?” She asked in horror.

I nodded. “The murder suicide was with a cop and his wife,” I confirmed.

“God, that’s horrible. And I heard the doctors talking. The baby will live, but they’re not sure about what cognitively was effected yet, correct?” She asked, placing the food on the counter and making me a sandwich.

When she would’ve reached back in for the tomatoes I stopped her. “None of those, please.”

She looked at me, looked at the tomato that she knew I loved, and nodded, placing it back on the shelf in the fridge and closing it with her backside.

“And yes, that’s what I heard when I called to check on him earlier. They’re keeping him in a medically induced coma until they’re sure the swelling is down to a manageable level. They’re contacting the paternal grandparents, too.” I knew that would be her next question.

My mom had a bit of a soft heart for those who didn’t have family.

Which was why Joslin was so loved by her.

Joslin’s parents weren’t what one would call ‘quality’ people.

They both smoked weed and neither had a job. I wasn’t even certain how they funded their extracurricular activities.

Then again, I’d never asked seeing as I was a fuckin’ cop.

She smiled at me.

“That’s good. Is he on the ped’s floor or in ICU?” She asked.

My mother worked on the pediatric floor.

That’d been where she was working when she met my father, who was a pediatrician, thirty five years ago.

My sister worked on the ICU floor, and Dean was a general surgeon.

“ICU for now. Ped’s when he gets better,” I answered, accepting the sandwich she offered me.

Her nose scrunched when she caught a closer look at my tattoos, and I barely restrained the urge to roll my eyes.

What was the big fuckin’ deal about the tattoos?

I thought they were fuckin’ great.

She, on the other hand, thought they were ugly.

Whatever.

“So, when did Joslin and Dean start dating? I hadn’t realized they were even together,” I asked, taking a bite of my sandwich.

It felt like a mouthful of sand as I chewed and swallowed.

I washed it down with a large slug of sweet tea that my mother handed me, and finished the sandwich in three bites while my mother worked the corner of her lip with her teeth.

“Well?” I asked again.

She sighed. “They’ve been seeing each other for going on a year now, Michael.”

I blinked. “No shit?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Michael, you know how I don’t like when you curse.”

Being on the ped’s floor really kept my mother from using bad language day in and day out. She rarely, if ever, used them. And hated when her family did.

“What’s the big secret?” I wondered aloud.

My mother pursed her lips. “Joslin said you’d be upset, and she’d like to keep it quiet until they were ready to share the news, and I went along with it.”

I raised my brow at her. “You do realize, right, that I’m your child and not her. She was in the family for less than a year if you want to count the amount of time we spent separated. Why keep her secret from your own son? It’s not that I’m torn up about it, I’m just disappointed in my family for keeping it from me. I’m not going to fucking break.”

“Language!” She snapped.

I threw up my arm.

“Thanks for dinner, ma. Maybe you can let me know when you’d rather put me ahead of my ex. I’ve got some awesome stories that I think you’ll find extremely interesting,” I said, walking to the back door.

“Mikey,” my mother said worriedly.

I held up my hand. “Save it.”

With that, I left and didn’t look back.

Chapter 4

I hate you. Not in an ‘I hope you die’ kind of way, but more like I hope you develop an allergy to chocolate and cheese kind of way.

-Coffee Cup

Nikki

“Hey there, Nikki!” Joanna said from her position behind her desk at the Pediatric ICU nursing station. “How have you been?”

I smiled. “I’m good. I just came up here to check up on that little boy. How’s he doing?”

She smiled sadly at me. “Lonely, I’m sure. But I’m short two nurses and we’re nearly at capacity.”

I brightened. “Do you mind if I sit with him for a while?”

“I think he’d like that,” she smiled.

Taking her words to heart, I followed the directions to his room, and walked in on a starkly white room with a crib in the middle of it.

Well, a hospital bed, crib.

It really wasn’t much of a crib.

It didn’t have that homey feeling like most cribs had.

This one was cold, metal, and bland.

And the tiny boy in the middle of it, hooked up to hundreds of tubes and wires, broke my heart.

I loved children.

I loved them with a passion and fierceness so powerful that I could barely see straight.

And I’d never have any of my own.

So I soaked it up by spending time with other people’s children.

And it looked like this little guy could use a friend.

Walking over to the crib, I took a seat at the chair, just to the side of it, and watched him.

His little head was wrapped in gaze from about the nose up, only one eye revealed.

His hands were taped to little boards so if he were to move, he wouldn’t pull out the IV lines they had in both hands.

His feet had monitors attached to them with a bright green wrap, and his body was veiled in a bright red hospital gown made for tiny humans such as him.

Picking up one of the books that was on the shelf across from my seat, I leaned back in my chair and started reading to him.

I must’ve gone through five or six books before I realized I wasn’t alone.

I looked up from my book I was reading to see Michael leaning against the doorframe, watching me.

“Hey,” I said, surveying him.

He looked better than he had before.

His white t-shirt stood out starkly against his tattooed skin.

I’d never seen his arms bare before, now that I thought about it.

“Hey,” he said carefully. “I was just bringing him some of his things…you know, so he wouldn’t be alone.”

“That was nice of you,” I whispered softly. “Come in.”

He did, albeit a little reluctantly.

When I noticed, I stood, offering him the chair.

“It’s about time I went anyway. I just wanted to come check on him, see how he was doing,” I whispered softly.

Michael, who’d been surveying the boy, looked up.

His beautiful eyes pierced me straight through every time he gave me the full force of them.

“You don’t have to go,” he said softly. “I’m not staying long. I have to go.”

Wasn’t he being nice?

You see, Michael and I had a long history.

Well, it was more like four months total of history, but that history was enough to last a lifetime.

I patted him on the forearm, a little bit of smartass filling my tone. “Well, then I guess you can walk me out.”

After placing a kiss to the tips of my fingertips, I pressed it against the boy’s hand, and looked at him longingly.

How could someone ever shoot their own child?

What kind of monster was capable of that?

Saying a silent prayer, I walked out of the room, very aware of Michael watching me the entire way.

I’d convinced myself he wasn’t going to follow me, but the moment I walked into the elevator, the doors closed, and he was there.

Ninja much?

“You like kids,” he muttered, settling himself in the corner of the elevator by the numbers.

A statement, not a question.

One he knew the answer to already, seeing as that’d been the thing that’d drawn our relationship to a sudden rocking halt.

***

18 months ago

Nervously, I looked into the mirror and inspected my attire.

Today would be my eighteenth date with Michael, and I felt that it was the one.

The one that would change everything.

Today would be the day that I gave myself to him.

Lock, stock, and barrel.

We’d only been dating for a little over four months, but it was enough.

I would be breaking my rule of twenty dates before I slept with him, but that was only because I knew.

I knew I was about to sleep with the man I intended to marry.

A knock sounded at the door, and I hurried through my room to my front entranceway, and threw open the door.

Michael was standing there, long sleeved button down shirt, as always, and a smile on his face.

“You look beautiful,” he breathed.

I smiled at him and opened my door.

“I made your favorite,” I told him as he walked through.

I’d found over the last four months that Michael had a love for Mexican food. A great love for it.

And he really liked home cooked Mexican food.

I’d gone through my mother’s entire cookbook making him food and, over time, we’d discovered that his favorite was one of the most simple.

Fajita’s, rice, and beans.

“Score!” Michael said as he made his way through the living room and headed straight towards the kitchen.

“The rice and beans are done. The only thing I’m waiting on is for you to grill the meat,” I informed him.

He turned around and grinned, pinning me to the spot with those baby blues of his.

“So we have time,” he murmured, “for me to do this?”

Then his body crowded mine against the counter, and I forgot how to breathe.

“Do what?” I asked breathlessly.

He chuckled, then his mouth was on mine.

He tasted like heaven, mint with a hint of the Dr. Pepper he’d just finished drinking.

My hands went underneath his shirt as I said, “I’m ready.”

He blinked, then abruptly circled his arms around my lower legs, and lifted me off my feet.

“Jesus,” he breathed, turning around and walking quickly to my bedroom.

He didn’t bother with the lights, only laid me down on the bed before following me down.

“Are you sure? Because I’m about to lose control here, and I don’t want you to regret anything. Regret me,” he whispered.

In answer, I started stripping his shirt from his body, and then started working on his pants.

He lifted up and resumed his own disrobing, allowing me to shimmy my dress up and over my head.

All my careful planning for the night that included my outfit, down to the straightness of my hair, was out the window once his naked body pressed against mine.

“I’m so sure I can’t even stand it,” I told him, widening my legs to allow his hips to slip between them.

He growled against my mouth, hand moving up to cup my breast.

“Good,” he rasped, moving up to his knees.

When I heard the sound of a package ripping open, I stopped him.

“I’m on the pill,” I breathed, arching up to him. “And I’m clean.”

He continued rolling on the condom. “I’m clean, too. But I always wear a condom. No matter what. Less chance of having kids that way.”

I nodded, slightly upset that I’d wasted all that money going on birth control when he wasn’t even going to utilize the benefits of it.

Then I was filled completely with him, and I forgot to be disappointed.

Because he was anything but disappointing.