They’ve decided to release Damian today as promised. I stayed with him all night, getting up only when one of us had to visit the bathroom. Sandra came in with bagels with cream cheese this morning and fresh coffees, to start the day off right.
“You look much better today,” Sandra says to Damian, touching her son’s cheek. She’s held it all together pretty well, much better than I did. “Did your father ever tell you the story of how he ended up in the hospital?”
“The time when I was ten, and Uncle David came over to take us to him?” he replies.
“Yes, that visit.”
“Dad said he was jumping the fence, and the rod dug into his side, slicing him. He got fourteen stitches.” Damian grins, shaking his head.
“That’s what he told everyone. Except me, and, of course, David, who was there when it happened.” Sandra takes a seat beside Damian while he looks at her and it clearly dawns on him that the story was made up.
“What really happened?”
“Your father had a keen intuition about people. He could see evil that there was no coming back from, and then those who were led down a path and just couldn’t find their way back. My Kevin wanted to save the world. He became a police officer to truly serve and protect. He would say to me, ‘sometimes we have to save them for themselves, because they’re so lost.’” Her voice softens and her face lightens when she talks about Kevin.
“What did he do, Mom?”
“Kevin and David were on duty, and they were coming down on an illegal gambling ring. They’d been on this case for months and were finally going to bust in and arrest everyone involved. Planned and executed, all was going according to schedule. Then one man made a break for it. Your father went after him in hot pursuit, David following. The young man was scaling a fence when your father dragged him down and whipped him around. He had a knife in his hand.” Sandra pauses, and I’m waiting with bated breath for her to finish. So is Damian, but not so patiently.
Damian says, “He stabbed Dad.”
“No.” She looks between us. “He was going to stab himself. He was saying that he wasn’t going to have his son know that he was a criminal. He’d lost his job, and he couldn’t find another because the head of this illegal gambling ring made it known that anyone who hired him would end up dead. He was going to move his family to another state and was only working for this guy until he had enough money for him and his family to disappear.”
“Oh my God, how awful,” I exclaim, covering my lips with my hand.
“David didn’t believe this man, but your father, he said he felt it down to his bones that this man was telling the truth.” She pauses for a moment. “David lunged at the man to disarm him, your father stepped in, and the knife ended up stabbing him. This man compressed the wound to stop the bleeding while David called 911. The man never left your father’s side, even though he knew he’d be charged. Kevin told David that he hurt himself on the fence chasing down a suspect. David knew he was lying, but went along with his story.”
“Why did he protect him? He was still part of an illegal ring,” Damian asks.
“He came to see your father at the hospital, then at the house, with his son. David was furious with your father for weeks, until he ran the history on this guy and did the research to find out everything he said was the truth. Do you know who this man is, Damian?”
Damian shakes his head.
“Jack O’Neil, Simon’s father. Your dad guided him through to the other side of the law. He became a top-notch detective, and his son is just as dedicated to the force.”
“Christ almighty. Jack?”
Sandra nods.
Damian gives her an odd look and asks, “Why are you telling me this now, after all these years?”
“First, because not everything is black and white. There are many shades of gray, and what your thoughts are on a situation may not coincide with another’s. Secondly, David felt it all, even though your father was the one in the hospital. The greater pain was watching David work through his guilt, anger, and frustration.”
“David and Jack are solid now,” Damian replies.
“Yes, they are. Now. But that’s not who I’m talking about. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, my boy. Caleb hasn’t left this building, and he’s in pretty bad shape emotionally. Alex is beating himself up pretty badly too. Zeke’s trying to hold it all together, but having to be the one to tell Chloe has affected him. You may not have biological brothers, but you have brothers.” Sandra stands up and flattens the front of her skirt. “Story time is over. You’re being released any moment, and I’ll meet you back at your place.” She kisses her son on his cheek.
“Mom,” Damian calls out to her as she opens the door. She looks over her shoulder. “Can you ask my brothers to come in, and can you order in more food? I want them to come back with us.”
She grins and nods. Sandra truly is exceptional. Her strength is unparalleled. She’s been through so much and is still standing strong.
Damian
My three closest friends come into the room, downcast and dejected. I didn’t see it earlier, and a pang of guilt washes over me. I should have seen it, could have had this talk yesterday.
“Baby, can you give us a minute?” I ask Chloe, who is already making her way to the door.
“Absolutely. I’m going to check on how they’re coming along with the release papers,” she says as she slides past the three men standing by the door.
Once the door is shut, I joke, “Do I look that bad that you’re not coming any closer?”
It must be the last straw for Caleb, as his dam of emotions bursts open. “This is all my fucking fault. If anyone should be in that bed, it should be me. I didn’t think, and look where it got you.” His chest is heaving and his face is red, his hands fisted by his sides. “I saw to Alex, made sure he was the first one in the fucking car and out of the way. Zeke was good in the van, but I let you down. I was in charge, and one of my men got hurt. My best friend, and all because of me.” He pounds a fist to his chest, looking shattered.
“Come here, man. Sit down.” I keep my voice low and stretch out a hand, indicating the chair by my side. It takes him a moment and a nudge from Alex, but he shuffles forward and plops in the chair. “We both wanted that fucker off the streets. It could easily have been me in your situation, and you would have done exactly the same as I did. I fucking know it,” I insist when he opens his mouth to speak. Caleb stays quiet. “You got my back, and never, not once in my whole career, have I doubted your ability as a partner or a leader. You’ve earned this promotion, and you succeeded in getting Luis Hernandez off the streets. I’m proud of you.”
“We got him off the streets,” Caleb insists.
“You’re right. We!” I let out a sigh. “Alex was key in this operation. If it wasn’t for him, we’d still be scrounging up evidence to put the man away.” I look to Alex, who lifts his chin to us.
“I had great backup,” Alex replies.
“Zeke was on every call, traced every number, and was so engrossed in getting us what we needed that without him, Alex would still be waiting for a break. He fed him everything he needed to know about Ricco and Luis to get in tight,” I remind them.
“It’s my job.” Zeke shrugs.
“Don’t do that,” I say loudly. “Do not negate the talent you bring to this team.” Zeke quirks his lip into a smile.
I turn my attention back to Caleb. “There’s no way you could anticipate every action. We’re not psychics, and none of us owns a crystal ball. You acted in an impossible situation, putting your life on the line to get a man who is responsible for at least ten deaths that we know of, and God knows how many others that we don’t. I’m lucky to be able to back you up. This wound will heal, and I’ll be by your side again. You are my captain, and this is my team.” I extend my hand, palm down, like I did when we were kids. Caleb places his hand over mine, and we glance at Alex and Zeke standing a few feet away.
“Get in here,” Caleb orders. Both Zeke and Alex follow suit.
“We good?” I ask, searching each man’s eyes. They gesture in agreement, even cracking smiles. That’s when I notice Chloe by the door, peering in through the small window, beaming a smile brighter than the sun.
Chloe
The guys assist me in getting Damian downstairs and into my car. They travel close behind me in their own vehicle, after Damian announces that Sandra is expecting everyone at the house as a “Welcome Home.” It seems that none of the guys say no to Sandra and Joyce. It’s adorable how four men, who tower over these woman and are muscle-bound and self-assured, say “yes, ma’am” when either of those women speaks.
We walk inside to find David sitting and Joyce and Sandra bustling around, setting endless amounts of food on the table. It’s a cornucopia of dishes, mouthwateringly good.
“Why aren’t you helping, Dad?” Caleb asks as his father looks behind him at Sandra and Joyce.
“Are you insane? Get in the middle of those two? Boy, didn’t I teach you better than that? They’ll call when it’s my turn,” Dave says, shaking his head.
Not a moment later, Joyce calls out to her husband, “Honey, can you come open some of these jars?”
David pushes himself out of his chair and walks past us. “See?” he says smugly.
Damian sits on the sofa, and I grab all the pillows, arranging them around him, making sure to put one under his arm to prop up his shoulders and taking the pressure off his injury.
He wraps his good hand around the back of my neck and tugs me closer, pressing our foreheads together. “Baby, I’m okay.” His voice is husky and low.
I breathe out a deep breath. “Okay,” I whisper. Our lips touch in a kiss so soft and sweet that I want to cry. The thought of never having his lips on mine again is paralyzing. Tears well up, and my lower lip trembles.
Damian notices that I’m overwhelmed with emotion. “Sweet pea?”
“I love you so much. I’m afraid to let go in case you don’t come back.” I pull in a haggard breath.
“Chloe, it could have been an accident in the shower or being at the wrong place at the worst time, but I swear to you, I will fight to come home, and I will take every precaution necessary to make sure that happens.”
I kiss his lips once more. “I believe you.” I straighten up and look over at the guys, who are pretending they can’t hear us. “I’m going to go take my chances with Sandra and Joyce in the kitchen,” I say, managing a grin.
I take a step back, but Damian grabs my hand. “I love you too, baby.”
Our evening turns into a beautiful night of family. The station had a basket dropped off, and a few of his fellow officers stop by to check in and see how Damian’s doing. A father and son, Jack and Simon O’Neil, drop in. When they arrive, Sandra asks us to help her in the kitchen, giving the men some alone time. While I’m loading the dishwasher, Joyce says quietly, “Damian will tell you all about it. It took time for David to open up to me.”
I don’t know how to respond, mainly because they all seem happy to be in each other’s company. Jack and David were pretty tight and clinking glasses together, toasting to health and happiness.
When they all begin to file out at the end of the night, Sandra hesitates.
“The spare room is made up, Mom,” Damian tells her. “You’re welcome to stay with us.”
“Just for tonight. Good night, my dears,” Sandra replies before she heads down the hall.
I didn’t think to go back to my place to pick up an overnight bag. Everything happened so fast. “I don’t have any of my stuff here. I should go back to the apartment tonight, and I’ll come back tomorrow morning.”
Damian gets up and comes over to where I’m standing. “You do not go there by yourself. Luis knows I’m a cop. God knows who he called after he was arrested, and he’s a smart fucker. No way are you going anywhere near the apartment without me with you. I’ll make arrangements with the guys to pack your stuff and get it over here,” he states, picking up his phone from the coffee table.
I gasp. “They are not touching my underwear!”
“Chloe, you aren’t going there alone. We’ll all go together and get you moved out. For tonight, we’ll make do.” His brow furrows with concern, and I see how important this is to him.
“All right.” I give in mainly because I can see how upset he is getting, and I don’t want him to get upset after everything he’s been through. “Just don’t expect to win every argument this easily in the future.” When he bursts out laughing, I know that I can spend a lifetime watching him laugh.
In the bedroom, as I help him out of his shirt and jeans, Damian winces. He hasn’t taken any pain meds since he got home. “You need to take your pills,” I warn.
“I forgot with all the hoopla.” He closes his eyes, and I can tell he’s in more pain than he’s letting on.
I go to the living room to grab them and some water, and when I return, he’s lying back on the pillows with the crisp white sheet barely covering his lower half. He’s so beautiful, even bandaged and bruised, his abs prominently on display, the outline of his thighs showing off his thick muscles. With his head on the pillow, his features relaxed, he seems content.
I quietly approach the bed, running my hand over his cheek, and his eyes open.
“Forget the pills. I’d rather have you,” he says huskily. There’s nothing more I would like than to have my wicked way with Damian, but not until he’s better. I grab two pills and put them in his palm. He takes them and downs the glass of water.
As the pills take effect, he closes his eyes. I take off my clothes and search his drawers for a T-shirt I can use for the night. I get in bed beside him, his bad shoulder farthest from me as I snuggle into his side. I rest my hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall beneath my touch. He’s here. He’s safe. He’s recovering.