7 Months

  “What the hell?” I shouted. “Stop, or I’ll shoot.”

  When the man didn’t listen, I lowered my gun and let off a shot, hitting him in the thigh and causing him to drop to the ground. I heard the popping sound of his gun discharging, and ducked back behind the wall. That was when I noticed that Doobie had come out from cover as well and was laying on the ground, holding his hand to his chest, as blood seeped through his fingers.

  “Shit, Ty, you’re hit,” I called, running to my partner and pressing my hand to his wound.

  “The other guy,” he bit out, and I knew I had to leave him to neutralize the situation.

  I called in, “Officer Down,” over my radio, then proceeded with caution over to where the armed man was writhing on the floor. He’d let go of his gun, so I kicked it out of reach, then secured him with handcuffs, while I ignored his cursing and kept my eyes on the opening to the vault.

  Once he was secure, I lifted my weapon and proceeded toward the vault.

  I heard the soft sounds of a woman crying as I rounded the corner, and saw her huddled into the corner.

  “Ma’am, are you alone?” I asked, keeping my voice low but firm.

  Her wide, smudged eyes came to me and she pointed down another hall.

  “He went that way.”

  Satisfied that she was unharmed, I followed her direction toward the other hallway. I reached the door and pushed it open, just as the sound of squealing tires hit my ears, and the back of a beat-up old Oldsmobile drove off down the alley.

  I called in the make and model of the car and asked Marsha the ETA of an ambulance, then went back inside to assess the situation.

  I found the bank employees and customers in a locked conference room, and was happy to see that everyone was uninjured, despite being shaken up by the experience. I asked the manager from the vault to join the others, then stay put so we could get their statements, then went to check on Doobie.

  I sat with Doobie, holding his hand and talking to him to keep him awake while we waited for everyone to arrive.

  “There’s an injured perp around the corner as well,” I told the paramedics when they entered and stopped at my partner and me. One of the men went to survey the damage of the robber, while the other looked over Doobie.

  They were both put on gurneys and rolled into ambulances.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I promised Doobie, knowing I had to stay around to help my fellow officers.

  As the ambulances were pulling off, a squad car came pulling in, sirens blazing.

  “Someone called in a tip and Trumbo and Lott picked up your runner. They’ve got him down in lockup for interview,” Smitty said as he joined me and we walked back inside the building.

  I had to stay and wait for the Incident Manager to arrive, so Smitty and I began taking statements from all of the witnesses.

  “Since you discharged your weapon, you’ll have to be interviewed by the IM, and surrender your weapon for testing. It’s procedure,” Smitty explained when the Incident Manager arrived.

  I went over the timeline of events as I knew then, and answered all of the IM’s questions.

  In addition to losing my gun, I was placed on a couple days of mandatory leave, while the investigation was being done.

  “It’s simply procedure, O’Malley,” the IM explained as he packed up to leave. “In a few days you’ll be contacted to do a series of interviews and will be put in contact with a counselor. I cannot give you a definitive answer of when you’ll be able to return to duty, but your supervisor will keep you abreast of what’s happening.”

  “Yes, sir,” I answered.

  “I’m going to the hospital,” I told Smitty before leaving the scene.

  “I’ll meet you there,” my old FTO replied. “Hey, Brady, don’t get too down on yourself, got it? It happens to all of us eventually.”

  When I got to my car, I emptied my pockets and threw everything on the passenger seat, irritated and saddened by everything that had occurred. Then, with the weight of it all, I turned the car toward the hospital.

  Chapter Twenty-Two ~ Ming

  I’m such an idiot.

  Why did I think things would be different, that he would be different?

  Am I really that naïve?

  How long can I sit and wait before the staff starts to think I’m a pathetic loser?

  These were the thoughts that had been plaguing me for the last half hour. I didn’t start freaking out right away. When I’d arrived at the restaurant and after ten minutes decided to be seated rather than wait for Brady by the hostess stand, I just assumed he was running late. It wasn’t until forty-five minutes and two glasses of wine and an appetizer later, that I realized he probably wasn’t coming.

  That’s when the negativity started to play out in my brain.

  I tried calling him, then texting, and when both went unanswered, I realized what had happened.

  He changed his mind…

  Of course he did. Brady was the kind of guy who got spooked at the mere idea of commitment.

  It was ridiculous of me to believe that being away from me for a few days had given him an epiphany and changed his personality.

  Like I am so great?

  Like the loss of my magical vagina had suddenly turned him into boyfriend material?

  I was delusional. Near tears and unwilling to suffer any further humiliation, I paid my bill and left the restaurant an hour and twenty-five minutes after I’d arrived.

  Chapter Twenty-Three ~ Brady

  By the time I got to the hospital, I was dazed and exhausted.

  I felt the familiar dread and panic hit me as those double doors slid open, beckoning me to come inside. I paused and looked down. That’s when I noticed Doobie’s blood on my hand.

  Doobie’s in there, and I promised I’d be by to see him.

  “Mr. Dubois is in surgery now, but you can go to the waiting room in ICU and someone will notify you once he’s out.”

  I followed the admissions woman’s directions down the hall and to the elevators. Once I found the waiting room, I passed the rows of chairs and settled on the floor in the corner.

  Every time I’d been in a hospital, I’d done this. I don’t know what it was … My parents didn’t die in a hospital, yet I still associated hospitals with pain, hopelessness, and death. I’d waited during the births of my niece and nephew, and would be there when Bronagh went into labor, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t a struggle for me every time.

  When Brock had been admitted after his motorcycle accident, and I didn’t know how serious his injuries were or whether he’d live or die, I’d nearly had a panic attack.

  But, I was a man of my word, and I always wanted to be someone that my family and friends could count on, so I’d sit here for as long as it took for me to get a chance to see for myself that Doobie was okay.

  “Have you heard anything?”

  I looked up from staring unseeing at the television in the corner, to see Smitty and Marsha walking my way, and shook my head.

  They sat in the chairs closest to me, and Marsha’s already worried face took in my position on the floor.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just don’t like hospitals,” I admitted, hoping they didn’t ask me any further questions. The last thing I needed was to be trapped in a hospital waiting room being pestered with personal questions about my past and my feelings … That was my definition of hell.

  Luckily, the doctor chose that moment to come into the waiting room and give us an update.

  “Mr. Dubois’s surgery went well. He’s resting and should make a full recovery.”

  Smitty asked the doctor something, but my brain had flooded with relief at the clarification that my partner was fine, so I missed it.

  “O’Malley can go first.”

  The sound of my name brought me back to the present, and I stood up as I asked, “What?”

  “You’ve been here a long time and look like you could really us
e some rest, so you should go and see Tyler first. Smitty and I can wait,” Marsha answered, and I gave her as much of a grateful grin as I could muster.

  Other than the fact that I’d never watched him sleeping, and his arm was in a sling, Doobie looked pretty much the same as always.

  “Hey, man,” I said softly as I walked up to his bed, unsure of whether I should sit or stand. I ended up just standing there, awkwardly staring down at him.

  “Irish, you made it,” Doobie said with a half-hearted smile, then he took in my demeanor and asked, “Something happen?”

  I looked at him, confused.

  “No, well, you got shot, I shot one of the robbers, and the other one was apprehended by Trumbo and lot. Why?”

  “You just look pretty strung out,” he replied, then he looked at me slyly and added, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried about me.”

  “Uh…”

  “I’m okay, Irish, just a scratch.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “What for? You didn’t shoot me.”

  “No, but I shot him and he got a shot off … which hit you.”

  “A plus C, doesn’t equal B, O’Malley. Don’t get what happened twisted in your head.”

  I nodded, not sure that I saw it the same way, but not wanting to argue my point with an injured man.

  “You under investigation for the shooting?” he asked, flinching when he shifted on the bed.

  “Yeah, took my badge and did an interview. I’ll be on mandatory leave for a couple of days.”

  “I guess makes two of us,” Doobie replied, causing me to laugh sharply.

  “I guess so.”

  When he laid his head back and shut his eyes, I said, “Well, I’ll let you rest. Be back tomorrow.”

  “Careful, Irish,” Doobie warned with his eyes still closed. “Keep it up and I’m gonna think you’re falling for me.”

  “Suck it,” I replied, smiling when he laughed in response, then I walked out of the room.

  Stopping by the waiting room on the way out, I told Smitty and Marsha that they could go in.

  “Okay, Brady, and get some sleep. Don’t worry, we have guys stopping by throughout the night to check on him,” Marsha assured me.

  As I walked outside of the hospital, breathing in the cool night air with relief, I thought of Ming, and how I really wanted to see her right then. That’s when I remembered that we’d had a date scheduled for that night … and I’d missed it.

  I searched my pants pockets, swearing when I realized I didn’t have my phone on me. When I got to the police cruiser, I saw it sitting on the passenger seat and picked it up to see missed calls and texts from Ming.

  Fuck!

  Not wanting to risk her ignoring my calls, or go into detail about what happened over the phone, I decided to drive to her place and see her. Unfortunately, I had to go to the station to change out cars. I could only imagine how pissed she was.

  I made the switch as quickly as I could, and was almost to her place when I started shaking. First my hands, then my entire body.

  Chapter Twenty-Four ~ Ming

  I was lying on the couch, a pathetic ball of mush, trying to watch the latest episode of my favorite design show and failing, when a knock sounded on the door. I sat up, sending used tissues from my crying jag flying to the floor, then laid back down when I heard Brady call my name.

  What does he want from me?

  I looked around my uncharacteristically messy living space, taking in the half-empty takeout container, the opened bag of chocolate donuts, and the empty bottle of wine, and shrugged as I surged off the couch.

  If he wanted to come in and do this now, so be it, I wasn’t going to clean up for him … but I couldn’t leave him in the hall to wake up my neighbors either.

  I took a deep cleansing breath, wiped my cheeks with the backs of my sleeves in one quick motion, then unchained the door and swung it open.

  The sight of Brady almost had me falling to my knees.

  He looked wrecked. Ravaged. The look in his eyes alone was enough to make mine start filling again.

  How are there any tears left?

  All of my anger, disappointment, and self-pity fled me as I took him in, my hand instantly reaching out to touch his arm as I asked, “Are you okay?”

  Nothing could have shocked me more than when Brady gathered me into his arms and held me tight, my feet coming off the ground as he buried his face in my neck.

  Instinctively my arms came around him. One around his neck to give myself some leverage, and the other around the back of his head to caress his hair.

  His hand must have pushed the door closed, because I heard it shut as Brady walked us to the bed and laid us down. I held on just as tightly as he did, as I waited for him to tell me what had happened.

  I knew it had to be something significant, and I chastised myself for not thinking about the fact that he was a cop. What if he hadn’t been standing me up, but had been held up by work, and that’s why he was a no-show.

  We were both laying on our sides, his arms holding me so close that there was no space in between us. Our legs tangled together and I caressed his back, murmuring softly in his ear.

  I felt wetness on the base of my throat, and my heart clenched at the thought of Brady suffering.

  “What happened?” I asked gently, once his vice-like grip on me loosened.

  Brady took a deep breath as he pulled back a few inches. He brought his hand up and wiped his thumb under his eye before saying, “There was an armed robbery at the bank today. Doobie and I were first on scene.”

  Even though I had him in my arms right that moment, and he was obviously unharmed, I felt ice run through my veins at his words.

  Rather than suffocate him with my panic, I stayed silent, waiting for him to finish what he needed to say.

  “Doobie was shot, he’s in the hospital.”

  “Oh my God,” escaped my lips before I could stop it.

  “He’s okay,” Brady assured me, his fingers clenching against my back as he continued, “Shoulder injury … It’s my fault.”

  His voice cracked when he said “fault” and my heart broke for him.

  “I shot one of the robbers; he was coming at me with a gun.” I froze solid in his arms. “I had to protect myself, so I aimed at his leg and took him down, but he got a shot off on the way…”

  Brady could have been killed.

  I took a deep breath, needing to keep my shit together so I could be there for him, but, Jesus, he could have been killed.

  “I went to the hospital,” he continued. “Sat on the floor in the waiting room until he came out of surgery. I’m shit at hospitals. Can’t take ‘em. When Brock was in his accident, that was my first time ever actually being in a hospital waiting room, but I hated it. I totally panicked. Couldn’t stand the thought that he could be dying just down the hall, while I was stuck in a room full of people telling me he was going to be fine. I was the same when Victoria had Dec and Rose. A fucking basket case. I get tense, it’s hard to breath, and every worst-case scenario I can imagine pops in my head. My parents died instantly when they hit that tree, but I still think of them when I get inside that sterile building. I know what it’s like to lose someone I love, and I can’t stand the possibility that I could lose someone else. That’s why I keep my circle small and tight, and do what I can to protect what’s mine. I’ve let Doobie in, and I could have lost him today.”

  “But you didn’t,” I said, needing to interject. “He’s going to be fine.”

  “What about Bronagh when she goes into labor?” Brady asked, his dark eyes pleading. “What if something happened to you?”

  This he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, but to me it sounded as if he were shouting.

  “Nothing’s going to happen to me,” I promised him. I’d promise him the world if I could hold onto those sweet words forever.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “You’re right, I don
’t, but you can’t live your life being afraid to open yourself to someone. There are so many people who love you, Brady, who would have a positive impact on your life, but you’ll never know that if you don’t give them a chance. I know life is fragile, and I hate the idea of losing anyone that I love, but I can tell you that I’m happy I have them in my life. I’m happy you’re in my life, and I wouldn’t trade our time together for anything.”

  Brady pulled me in and hugged me to him, then said against my hair, “I shot someone today.”

  My breath held as his turned ragged.

  “I never thought about it … All I focused on was protecting, really. I mean, I’ve had weapons training, so of course I thought about it, but not as an actual possibility. This is a small town, without a ton of crime, and shit, even Smitty said he’s never discharged his weapon. But, I actually pulled the trigger today, and I might have to again. I never thought about how that would feel. What it would feel like if I took someone’s life. What it would feel like if I made someone an orphan, like me.”

  “You had to defend yourself.”

  “I know.”

  We were both quiet for a while after that. Both of us processing the things that had been said.

  “Will you have counseling?” I asked.

  “Yeah, probably.”

  “That’s good,” I replied, tilting my head back so I could look up at him. “It might help you to talk all this out.”

  “It has helped,” he said quietly, then dipped his head to brush his lips against mine. My heart was already melting when he added, “I’m sorry about dinner.”

  Embarrassed, I admitted, “I thought you’d changed your mind. Stood me up.”

  “I’m sorry. Next time I’m stuck at work, I’ll remember to at least send you a text so you’re not waiting around for me.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  “And, Ming? I know I’ve been careless in the past, but I won’t disappear on you. I promise.”

  I nodded. Brady had said everything I needed to hear.