“Goody.” Dylan grabbed me holding me against him tightly, and I could feel his body shaking violently. Suddenly, I felt relaxed and the room tipped in front of me, causing my vision to swirl dizzily.
“Cami, we’ve given you a sedative,” another voice, one I didn’t recognize, slurred. My head lolled to the side and I saw a nurse holding my IV tube.
Dylan didn’t release me, his face buried in my hair. “Cami, I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Please. I love you so much. Please don’t hate me. I’m so sorry.”
I opened my mouth to ask him what he meant, but I couldn’t get the words out before the darkness consumed me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dylan-
Rushing into the bathroom, I closed and locked the door behind me before hurrying to the sink. I turned on the faucet and bent over, splashing the cold water vigorously against my skin.
There was a knock on the door. “Dylan? Are you all right?” Chris’s muffled voice came through.
“I’m going to need a minute, please,” I replied, my voice strained under the pressure I was feeling.
“Okay. I’m here if you need me.”
Leaning on my arms against the sink, I stared at the mirror, barely recognizing the stranger staring back at me, the sunken eyes with dark circles, in bad need of a shave. But none of that mattered. Cami had taken the news much worse than I thought she would. Her terrified screams were still echoing loudly in my ears, where they would continue to haunt me for the rest of my life.
Rage boiled through me and I slammed my fist against the sink. I couldn’t take this anymore. I couldn’t stand the suffering and the ache in my rib cage that wouldn’t cease. Desperately, I wished for normal—wished we were safely in our house in Tucson, planning for the arrival of our infant son. When had things gone so horribly off track?
Determined, I stormed to the bathroom door, throwing it open and finding Chris waiting there. “Give me the list,” I demanded and his eyes widened.
“Dylan,” he said his gaze flicking around the hallway in concern.
“Don’t Dylan me. Give me the damn list!”
He shook his head. “I can’t do that. You’re too close to the situation.”
“I don’t give a shit!” I yelled drawing the attention of some nurses. “Give me the fucking list!”
Raising his hands in submission, he backed away. “Let’s go outside and talk about this. This isn’t place.”
“So help me, Chris, if you don’t give me that damn list you’re gonna live to regret it.” I stepped closer, threatening.
“I’m afraid of what will happen if I do give it to you.” At least he was honest.
“I’ll tell you what will happen. I’m going to go down that list and find out who the asshole is that did this to my wife and baby. And then I’m going to make him pay! I’m tired of waiting around for the department to just drag their feet on this. Whoever this is—they’ve gone too far. They might’ve started it, but I’m going to finish it!” I snarled, poking him in the chest.
“We have no proof that this is someone from your past,” Chris argued. “The list could be a dead lead for all we know.”
I snorted shaking my head. “You look me in the face and tell me you don’t think this is revenge, pure and simple. They are targeting my wife to get to me!”
“You’re right. They are targeting your wife. But how do you know it’s not someone from Cami’s past? What if she is the target? How would that relate to any of your past cases? You’d be going off and after the wrong people.”
His words hit me hard and I stepped backward, staring at him as my mind raced a million miles a minute. “You’re right, Chris,” I agreed, my whole tone changing. “Quick! Let me see the list.” He stared at me as if I’d lost my marbles with the abrupt shift in attitude, but I didn’t have time for any of that. Something he’d said had triggered a hunch I couldn’t let go of. “Chris,” I pleaded, gesturing for him to hurry along as I strode toward Cami’s room. Pausing, I turned to find he wasn’t following me. “I need to see the list.” I tried to say it as calmly as possible, hoping he’d trust me.
Hanging his head dejectedly, he stared at the floor for a second and I knew I’d won. Walking past me, he went to the briefcase on the floor beside his chair. Picking it up, he handed it to me, but he didn’t release it. “This is everything. Every stitch of evidence we’ve gathered during all of this, including the list. See if you can see anything we can’t.”
Taking the briefcase, I moved to the chair in Cami’s room and sat, opening it on my lap. Hurrying through the files, I found one marked “possible suspects.” Reaching inside, I yanked the list of names out of the folder as Chris watched me from the door. Quickly flipping the pages to get to the letter I wanted, I scanned my finger down the page, pausing when the name I’d been looking for jumped out at me. Closing the briefcase, I carried it over and handed it back to Chris, who held it flat in his arms. I slapped the paper down in front of him and pointed.
“There’s your shooter,” I growled, never feeling more certain about anything—my gut confirming my feelings. I never ignored my gut.
He stared at the name before glancing at me. “I hate to admit it, but you might be onto something. This could really make sense.”
I chuckled wryly. “Don’t play it down, Chris. I can see the puzzle pieces falling into place in your head, just like it is in mine.”
Sighing, Chris pulled out his phone and hit a number on speed dial. “Give me the Chief,” he said to whoever answered.
“Hello?” I heard Chief Robson’s voice come loudly through the speaker.
“Hey, Chief. It’s Chris.”
“Napier! Anymore news on Cami?” he asked, sounding concerned.
“She still having a rough time,” he replied, and I felt like that was the understatement of the year. “Listen, I think I’ve got a possible suspect on this case. I need you to put out an APB on a Gabrielle Martinez. You’ll need to send it to the police in Copper City and see if they can find anything on her, too.”
“Gabrielle Martinez. Isn’t that the girl who was messed up in Dylan’s drug case?”
“One and the same,” Chris replied, his eyes drifting to mine. “You might want to put approach with caution on there, too. If it is her, she’s definitely armed and dangerous.”
“I’m on it. I’ll let you know if I turn up anything. Tell Dylan and Cami we are all praying for them.”
“Thanks. I’ll let him know.” Chris hung up. “Happy now?” he asked.
“No. Not until Gabby’s caught and dealt with.”
“Let the police deal with it,” he warned, his expression stern.
“The only reason I’m still here is because she needs me.” I pointed at Cami. “And I promise you, if the department can’t do the job right, then I’ll be doing it for them. I have to know Cami’s going to be safe, and I’m certainly not going to let some little spoiled bitch with an axe to grind come after her. That girl was messed up, Chris. Probably just as bad as Clay was. Who else would sit on a murder and an attempt on someone else’s life like that? And she was jealous of Cami, too.”
“She was jealous because Cami had you.”
“Cami still does. And what does Gabby have after all this?” I stared at him. “Nothing but prison time. I’m telling you, I wouldn’t put any of this past her. She was just as sadistic as Clay. Even when I’d try and talk to her and tell her to back off, she just continued on like she hadn’t even heard me. I tell you, it was bizarre. Ask Russ if he thinks she could do it. He’ll back me up on this, I promise you. He knows her. As in knows her, knows her. Ask him.”
“You don’t have to convince me. I think you may have something, but we also need some hard evidence to back this up. We can’t just arrest her because of her past. She’s served her jail time for that already.”
Sighing, I walked back toward the chair, suddenly feeling so tired. I slumped into the recliner. “I’d start b
y finding out if she’s been spending any time in Tucson lately. That would be something—if you could tie her to that location at the same time all of this was happening. If you can get that, ask a judge if you can subpoena her financial records. It would be easy to trace purchases off of that, say things like fire accelerants.”
Chris nodded. “You stay here and take care of your wife. I’m on this.” I watched as he walked through the door before turning around again and staring at me. “We miss having you on the force, Dylan.”
I gave him a sad half smile. “I miss it, too; but I left it precisely to avoid this kind of thing.” I gestured to Cami. “I won’t risk her, Chris. She’s lost too much now, as it is.”
“I get it,” he replied. “I’m going to make some phone calls and see what kind of things turn up. The other officer is still at the entrance. Are you okay here?”
Reaching for my gun on the table, I rested my hand on it. “I’ve got it covered.”
***
My guard went up instantly when I noticed Cami starting to stir. Panic rose inside me and I attempted to stamp it down. She needed me to be strong for her right now. I needed do what I could and accept any blame she placed on me. All I cared about was helping her get to a place of peace where she could deal with this as rationally as possible. I wasn’t deluding myself, though. We both had a long road of recovery ahead of us.
Scooting my chair next to the bed, I grasped her hand in mine, rubbing it softly, hoping it would soothe her. Her head turned toward me, but she didn’t open her eyes, though her fingers tightened around mine. I didn’t rush her, wanting to let her take her time. After a few moments, her other hand moved, coming to rest against her stomach. Tears began leaking from her closed eyes. Her chest caught and heaved as a sob escaped.
“Dylan.” It was the only word she said, and it was all that was needed. Moving from my chair, I sat on the edge of her bed and carefully gathered her in my arms. She leaned against my chest and wept freely, tearing my heart out more each second.
A nurse came and nodded at me before closing the curtain in front of the glass wall, giving us some privacy. Continuing to hold Cami to me, I kissed the top of her head, as I mourned with her for our child.
When her tears finally subsided, she didn’t try to move away from me. We stayed that way for a long time, just clinging to each other.
She sighed heavily. “I’m sorry,” she said and her words struck me like stones.
“What in the world do you have to be sorry about?” I asked incredulously.
“For flipping out earlier. I just can’t . . . I don’t know how . . . .”
“Goody, rest. That’s what is important now.”
“I can’t rest. I need to know what happened.”
I swallowed hard; knowing the next few minutes might make or break her feelings toward me. “After you were shot, I had to get you out of the house. I shot out the lights so whoever was out there,” I omitted Gabby’s name for the time being, “couldn’t see us moving around. I couldn’t get you to wake up so I carried you out into the rain. I tried stopping the blood by tearing my shirt in bandages, but I knew I had to get you to safety. Thankfully, you still had your phone in your pocket and I was able to get in touch with Chris. He dispatched police and medical teams, as well as a helicopter, to our location; but it just took too much time. I moved as quickly as could, but too much time had passed.” A tremble passed through me and I took a deep breath before I continued. “The surgeon told me they had to revive you in the operating room. He also said the bullet had torn through the placenta and severed part of the baby’s cord. He was already gone.” She shuddered in my arms, fresh tears falling. “I’m so sorry, Cami. I understand if you’re mad at me. I’m mad at me, too. But I want you to know I love you.”
Raising her head, she stared at me with swollen eyes. “Why would I be mad at you?”
Stroking the side of her face, I sighed heavily. “I promised I would protect you both and I failed miserably.”
“Dylan,” she replied reaching up and touching my face. “I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. You did the best you could under the circumstances.” She dropped her hand weakly, but didn’t break eye contact with me. “This has all been too horrible for words, but you need know . . . I don’t want to be anywhere that you aren’t. I love you.” She moaned, her hand going back to her stomach. “Can I have something for pain?”
As gently as I could, I removed myself from her and laid her gently back against her pillow. Bending, I kissed her forehead. “I’ll go get the nurse.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Cami-
If I were being truthful, I was feeling more than a little overwhelmed. I simply wanted to sleep, but I couldn’t bear to tell my family to leave, knowing how worried they’d been about me. Dylan hadn’t taken his eyes off me since I’d been moved from the ICU to the regular Med/Surg floor, after my status was upgraded, except for briefly going into the bathroom to change out of the scrubs he’d been wearing and into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt his mom brought for him. It was as if he were afraid to blink because I might disappear. He looked exhausted, unshaved, messy haired, and refused to rest. I could tell he had some deep aching going on inside and I wished we had some time to just be alone, together.
Shifting uncomfortably in the bed, I tried to find a place that didn’t hurt. I was covered in cuts and bruises from the window shattering, apparently. But none of those hurt as badly as my stomach area, which was definitely the worst.
“Is it time for more pain meds?” Dylan asked, not missing my discomfort. I nodded. I saw him give a subtle nod to Sheridan and she stood suddenly.
“Why don’t we all go get some dinner and let Cami get some rest?” she asked. “She looks so worn out.”
“Thank you,” I said, not denying it. “It’s definitely been a rough time. I could use some sleep.” One by one, they came and gave me a hug and kiss.
“Sweetheart, you call me if you need anything. I don’t care what time it is, okay?” my mom said, concern evident in her eyes.
“I will, Mom. Thanks.” I sighed when the last of them were out the door, feeling relieved.
“I’ll call the nurse and have her bring you some pain meds,” Dylan said, reaching for the call button.
“No!” I said a little harshly, stalling him.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, instantly on edge.
“You are.”
“What do you mean?”
“No offense, Dylan, but you look like death. I have no idea how you’ve stayed up so long.”
He sighed. “I needed to make sure you were all right. You were my first priority.”
“Look at me,” I said. “I’m fine. Maybe a bit emotionally worse for wear, but I’m not going to die if you close your eyes to go to sleep. You’re driving yourself into the ground worrying about me. I don’t like it.” I shifted again, the pain irritating me.
“I’m calling for your medication,” he said, reaching for the button again and I placed my hand over it, preventing him.
“I’m not going to take any more pain meds unless you agree to go to sleep. They make me sleepy, so you aren’t going to miss anything. You got shot, too. You need some rest so you can recover.”
He snorted. “This is nothing. A graze. I’ll be fine.”
“I mean it.” I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “The nurse brought you some bedding and that couch turns into a bed. I want to see you make your bed before I’ll take anything. And you need to hurry because it hurts.”
He sighed heavily, but I knew he wouldn’t refuse me. I could be just as stubborn as he was. Dutifully removing the bedding from the small closet, he began making his bed.
I watched him move, thinking how grateful I was to have him in my life. We’d been through so much together—some of those experiences being really bad. But the good times far outweighed the bad. I had confidence that someday, after our hearts had a chance to heal, we’d find our way ba
ck to a good place.
Earlier, we’d briefly discussed funeral arrangements for the baby. I was glad he’d chosen that option. I needed my own closure, still. He told me he let me hold the baby, even though I was unconscious, and I cried a whole bunch more. Truthfully, I was scrubbed raw on the inside. I felt like I was barely holding it together.
“There. Is that good enough to satisfy you or do want me be able to bounce a quarter off it like they do in the military?” A smile quirked at the edge of his lips and that did more to warm my heart than anything. I loved his smile and I’d missed seeing it. He’d been agitated and restless, sorrow heavy on his features.
“Do it again,” I said.
“Seriously?” He looked completely perplexed as he glanced between the bed and me.
“Not the bed, silly.” I laughed and immediately groaned, placing my hands on my abdomen.
Instantly, he was at my side, carefully touching me. “What is it? What can I do?”
Placing one of my hands over his, I stared at him. “You can stop being so worried,” I replied. “I just wanted you to smile, again. You’ve looked so sad; it was nice to see a bit of humor back on your face.”
“I shouldn’t be making jokes around you at a time like this.”
“Yes! You should! There’s a reason they say laughter is the best medicine. It might hurt a little right now, but I need some cheerful things, too. I can’t stand seeing you so . . . broken.” I winced as a sharp pain stabbed through my stomach.
Reaching across me, he pushed the call button for the nurse. “Can I help you?” a voice came over the speaker.
“Can my wife get some more pain meds, please?” he asked.
“Certainly. I’ll send your nurse right in.”
He stared at me, resting his hand on the rail of my hospital bed. “I thought I’d lost everything, Cami. I still worry that the more you recover and the clearer your mind becomes, that’ll you’ll blame me . . . like I blame myself. I should’ve kept this from happening.”