Chapter Seventeen

 

Slattery came to sprawled on his back, pillows tucked beneath his head and the cushions of her couch soft beneath his aching body. Sabetha knelt beside him, one hand clutching his so tightly he thought it might detach. She wore a brilliant smile, sparkling through her tears. He lifted his fingers to caress her bruised cheek. “Hey.”

“I thought you were dead, Slattery.” Her voice had recovered most of the volume and timbre. “When I saw you get hit, I thought I’d die myself. It looked like you were shot through the heart, but your brother says you were wearing a bulletproof vest.”

“I was, honey, and I’m fine.”

A small sob escaped her lips. “You don’t look like it. You scared the ever loving shit out of me when you went down. How do you feel?”

He started to say fine, good, but decided to give her the truth. “Not so good, honey, sore and weak and tired, but I’ll heal. I’m better now I’m with you. I’ve been so worried and trying to get in touch. I left you a message when I was in the ambulance, but I guess you didn’t get it.”

Sabetha shook her head. “My cell phone got smashed in all the excitement.”

“Then I couldn’t have called you anyway,” he said. “I tried. My battery went dead and I couldn’t remember the exact number. I didn’t even know where you were taken. Are you okay?”

“I am now. All I ended up with were a few bumps and bruises. I’ve been devastated, thinking…no, I won’t even say it again now that it’s not true. You should be in the hospital, though, Slattery.”

“No way.” About that he had absolutely no doubt. He was exactly where he wanted and needed to be.

“But you were shot in the thigh?”

“Yeah, so they tell me. And I got agitated and had a pretty bad PTSD episode, so they sedated and restrained me.”

“Oh, Pride.”

“It’s all right,” he said. “I’m good now. I was so upset about you, wondering if you were okay. I figured you’d thought the worst and I couldn’t get ahold of you.”

Cash spoke for the first time since Slattery fainted. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I will be.”

His brother snorted. “I sure as hell hope so. You need plenty of rest, and I feel like the third wheel here.”

“You’re not,” Slattery said.

“Yeah, I probably am, but if you need me to go do anything, buy groceries, pick up your prescription, I’m ready. Just point me to a supermarket or pharmacy.”

“Have you eaten?” Sabetha asked.

Slattery nodded.

“He hasn’t had much,” Cash told her. “Half a hamburger he couldn’t finish on the way, a little soup and broth at the hospital.”

Her eyes lit up. “You need good homemade soup,” she said. “I think chicken and dumplings.”

“Sounds good but not tonight, honey,” he said. “Maybe tomorrow.”

“I’ll make some. For now, I could warm up some canned soup. Could you eat some French Onion soup?”

It turned out he could, especially after she warmed up a canned version, then topped it with grated Swiss cheese and some croutons. Cash ate a hearty bowl too, then assisted Slattery to the bathroom and then to the recliner. “You should be in bed,” he griped.

“I’d rather be here. It’s comfortable.”

Cash yawned. “I need to go find a hotel.”

“You’re welcome to take the couch,” Sabetha told him.

“Thanks, but you two could use some time alone. I’ll be back tomorrow, go run any errands for you, and if I’m satisfied Pride’s not at death’s door, I need to head home. Where’s the closest place to stay that’s clean?”

Sabetha recommended one of the hotel chains on Hollywood Boulevard, and Cash, after a few words with Pride, departed.

They waited, silent, until a few minutes had passed. Then Slattery stretched out his hand to Sabetha. “C’mere.”

She came to the side of the chair but he pulled her over onto him until her head rested against his left shoulder, and he cradled her tight with one arm. Sabetha protested, “I’ll hurt you.”

“No,” he said. “You’re not bothering me at all, and I need this.”

Slattery kissed her, slow and gentle, all he could manage at the moment. He savored the taste of her mouth and the texture of her lips against his. She smelled of lavender and soap and shampoo. Her warmth against him soothed the uneasiness in his soul, and he relaxed. He kissed her again, this time longer and then nuzzled his cheek against hers. After a while, he sighed.

“I’m getting sleepy.”

“Then I’ll get up.”

He caught her and held her with his arms. “Stay with me, honey.”

“I shouldn’t.”

But she did and they fell asleep in tandem after she managed to pull a comforter over them both. Slattery slept without pain and without nightmares, comfortable and content. He woke once to find her awake. “I’m sorry,” he said without preamble.

“You didn’t wake me so there’s nothing to apologize for to me.”

“I do, though.”

“What?”

“Pride is a sin.”

“And?”

“I rushed into that building to find you out of pride, sure I could save the day and you. And I fell, didn’t I, just like the Bible warns, and if I’d lost you over it, it would have been the destruction of me. So I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t act out of pride,” Sabetha said. Her voice was full of emotion.

“I didn’t?”

“No, you didn’t. You acted out of love. And love is patient and kind. It doesn’t envy or boast, and it isn’t pride. It wasn’t pride that sent you in there, Slattery, it was love. And love is never a sin.”

He digested her words and accepted them. “I love you, Sabetha.”

“And I love you, Pride, now and always.”