“How are they?” Patrick asked Caden, phone still pressed to his ear.
“Collin has a mild head injury, a scalp lac, and a probable rib fracture,” Caden said in a calm, confident voice. Makenna’s chest squeezed with worry as Patrick relayed the information to the dispatcher. Caden continued, “Mike has an elevated heart rate and chest pain reproducible on palpitation and movement, which means a possible sternum fracture. At least, that’s what I can tell without more diagnostics.”
God, both of them needed to go to the hospital. Makenna couldn’t believe this was happening. Her brother repeated Caden’s diagnosis.
“EMS is within range,” Patrick said. “I hear the sirens.”
Makenna had just cued in to them, too.
“All right, Mike. Cavalry’s almost here. They’ll get some pain meds in you and you’ll be good as new. Just try to sit still,” Caden said.
“Thanks, son. I’m okay,” her dad said, the strain in his voice belying the words.
Caden snapped off his gloves and moved to the back seat again. As worried as she was about her father and brother, she was also fascinated to see Caden in action—confident, totally in control, rushing in to help without having to be asked. Exactly what he was trained to do.
A few minutes later, two police cars, two ambulances, and a firetruck rumbled into the scene, their red and blue lights circling over everything. As the crews got out of their vehicles, Patrick met up with the police and Caden joined the paramedics as they unloaded stretchers and backboards from the rear of their rig. He was deep in conversation with them, clearly recounting what he’d learned about the men’s conditions.
Makenna leaned into the driver’s seat. “The ambulance is here. Just hang on,” she said.
Her father gave her a tight smile. “Don’t you worry.”
When the paramedics approached the car, Shima cleared out of the back seat, and one of the paramedics went around and took her place, the other leaning in through Collin’s doorway like Caden had done.
Makenna and Ian stepped back too, making space for the crews to do their job. Caden fell in beside her, his gaze running over her face. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, taking her cheek in his hand. “I know you were asleep when it happened. I tried to stop as gently as I could.”
“I’m fine. Really. What happened?”
Caden frowned. “The damn ice. The second driver tried to pull out of the cross street without sufficient lead time and his back tires caught ice, which stalled him half-way out. So your dad had to swerve to avoid him, but he hit a patch of ice, too, and caught the vehicle’s back quarter panel before going off the road.”
“It was lucky Dad responded so quickly,” Ian said. “I thought for sure we were going to broad-side him.”
Nodding, Caden said, “It could’ve been a lot worse, that’s for sure.”
“It’s bad enough,” Makenna said, her throat going tight.
“Come here,” Caden said, pulling her into his chest. “They’re going to be all right. You’ll see.”
“Thanks to you,” she said, peering up at him. “This would’ve been so much scarier if you weren’t here.”
He shook off the compliment and rubbed her back.
Soon, the two paramedic crews had Dad and Collin loaded onto stretchers. They told Caden where they were going and said the family would have to follow by separate vehicle. As the crews loaded the stretchers into their rigs, Patrick waved Ian and Shima over to the police, who seemed to be asking them questions.
Patrick joined her and Caden. “You four go ahead to the hospital. I’ll finish up here and one of these guys will give me a lift home to get my car when we’re done.”
“Okay,” Caden said. The two men shook.
“Thanks for everything, Caden. It means a lot,” Patrick said. “Keep me posted.”
“We will. Wish I could’ve done more,” he said.
When Ian, Shima, and Caden had given statements, they loaded up into Caden’s Jeep and made the quiet drive to the hospital. Shima sat next to Makenna, concern radiating off of her, and it touched her to know how deeply concerned Shima was for her brother. She really cared.
But getting to the hospital didn’t give them any answers, because while Dad and Collin were being evaluated, all the rest of them could do was wait. Within an hour, Patrick had come, but they still hadn’t heard from anyone in the emergency department beyond filling out some forms on both the James men’s behalves.
Caden was a godsend through it all. Grabbing coffee for all of them. Staying close to Makenna’s side. Holding her hand. Explaining to everyone what was likely happening to Dad and Collin respectively so they’d all understand why it was taking so long—the scans they both required were probably part of the hold-up.
This would’ve been so much harder if Caden hadn’t been there. More than that, it felt like he belonged there. As part of the James clan. At her side.
“Mike and Collin James family,” called a woman’s voice.
They all stood at once, her and Patrick going fastest to join the woman near the doors to the ER.
“I can only allow one person back for each patient,” she said.
Makenna turned to Ian. “Do you mind if I go with Patrick?”
“No,” Ian said. “Just text me when you know more.”
Giving Caden a quick hug and a kiss, Makenna agreed. She gave Shima a nod, too. “Will let you all know as soon as we can.” And then she was rushing to her father and youngest brother’s sides, heart in her throat to know that they were going to be okay. She couldn’t lose any of these men that she loved. Not her father, not her brothers, and not Caden.
Because the pain of it would absolutely shatter her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was morning before they got home. Turned out Makenna’s dad didn’t have a sternum fracture; he was just badly bruised—which was good news. Collin did have a broken rib, but his head scans had been clear and the scalp lac didn’t include any injury to the bone beneath. When they got back to the James house, everyone helped get Mike and Collin settled before falling into bed.
“You were my hero last night, you know that?” Makenna said, half asleep next to Caden in her small bed. Even exhausted she was so damn beautiful, with the morning light bringing out all the shades of red in her hair.
Caden shook his head. He’d never be comfortable with that word. Hero. Because he was always questioning if he’d done enough, been good enough. Heroes were brave and fearless, neither of which described his anxiety-ridden ass. He knew himself well enough to know that was true. “I was…just doing my job. It’s what I do.”
“That doesn’t make it any less heroic,” she said, rolling closer so that her chin rested on his bare chest. Makenna traced her finger over his rose tattoo. “People live because you get up and go to work, Caden. That’s…that’s amazing.”
There was truth in what she said, but it still made him uncomfortable to think about it that way. He always thought of it more as a debt owed, as paying back the universe for what someone had done for him. And not just anyone, but David Talbot. That was the name of the paramedic who had first arrived on the scene of his family’s accident fourteen years before. That was the name of the man who’d saved Caden’s life and pulled him back from the brink of madness.
Their car had flipped into an irrigation ditch that ran along the side of a country road, making it so that passing cars couldn’t see it in the darkness. For hours, Caden had been pinned upside down in the back seat, his head wedged between the front center console and passenger seat, his shoulder dislocated, something stabbing him in the side.
He’d called out his family’s names for a long time, but no one ever answered. He’d screamed for help every time the lights of a passing car flickered through the gloom, but no one ever came. Caden had passed in and out of consciousness for hours until he could no longer distinguish reality from nightmare. By the time a long-haul trucker finally stopped in the early light of mor
ning, Caden hadn’t responded to the man’s calls to see if everyone was all right because he hadn’t believed the voice was real.
His mind hadn’t stopped playing tricks on him ever since.
“I’m just glad I could help,” he finally said, leaning up to kiss Makenna on the forehead. He ran his fingers through her soft hair. He never had tired of playing with it, and didn’t think he ever would. “Let’s get some sleep.”
Makenna kissed his chest and pressed herself tight along the side of his body, her head on his shoulder. They fell asleep quickly, but the combination of the accident and the anxiety caused by the overheard conversations had twisted his subconscious into knots that played out in some of the worst nightmares he’d had in years.
They all started out the same—with his father losing control of the car and it flipping in a series of crushing, body-bruising jolts until it finally landed upside down, the impact throwing Caden’s body so hard that he became pinned in place, unable to move.
It was the endings that were different.
In one, no one ever came to rescue Caden from the accident, and he was still there now—a living hell he could never escape, blood still dripping down over his face from the wound on his head.
In another, his brother Sean’s eyelids flipped open in his lifeless face, his eyes sightless in death but so accusing as they stared at Caden. Sean moaned, “It shoulda been me. I shoulda been the one to live,” before disappearing into thin air.
In the one that just had him gasping awake, it was Ian who first showed up on the scene, and when he looked in and saw Caden hanging there, he just said, “She deserves better than you,” and walked away as Caden screamed and screamed.
Jesus.
Caden looked to his side to find that Makenna had turned over at some point. She must’ve been exhausted for his bullshit not to have disturbed her, because he knew his nightmares often woke her up. Just another thing he hated about himself, for her sake.
He blew out a long breath. Caden was so fucking exhausted. And it was an exhaustion that had absolutely nothing to do with last night’s lack of sleep. It was an exhaustion he carried in his very soul, one that weighed down his spirit with grief and survivor’s guilt and self-doubt, and he didn’t know how he’d ever fix that. Or what it should mean if he couldn’t.
Finally, Makenna stirred beside him. “Hey,” she said, giving him a sleepy smile.
God, she was so very pretty. It struck him dumb every time. “Hey.”
“Did you sleep?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said. Some, anyway. If she hadn’t heard his nightmares, he didn’t need to burden her with them.
“I must not have slept enough,” she said, making a face. “I’m kinda nauseous.”
“It’s three o’clock in the afternoon,” Caden said. “We’ve missed two meals. Maybe food will help.”
They threw on clothes and found Mike, Patrick, and Ian congregated around the island in the kitchen.
“Daddy,” Makenna said, rushing up to him. “How are you feeling?”
He huffed out a little laugh. “A little beat-up, but I’ll be okay, peanut.”
“I wish I could stay longer,” she said, leaning her head against her father. With a grimace, Mike put his arm around her and softly hugged her in. The gesture was so casual in its intimacy and tenderness that it stole Caden’s breath. Not because there was anything particularly unique about a father hugging his child, but because after the accident, Caden’s father never once hugged him again.
The accident had left his old man with his own demons, leaving no room for the father-son relationship they’d once had. And it had made a much younger version of himself believe that his own father wished Caden hadn’t survived either. He’d felt like such a burden to the man, for years. It was part of why he’d started donning the armor of his ink.
“Don’t you worry about it,” Mike said. “Collin and I are going to be fine.”
“Do you want to stay and take the train home when you’re ready?” Caden asked. He felt bad that his having to work tomorrow cut the weekend short, but the price of getting the holiday off was a series of back-to-back twenty-four/seven shifts for the next few days.
Makenna blew out a breath and braced her hand on the counter. “I don’t know. I have to work on Monday anyway.”
“Are you okay?” Patrick asked. “You’re kinda green.”
“No sleep and no food,” she said.
“What do you want?” Caden asked. “I’ll make you something.”
“We were just talking about food, too,” Mike said. “We still have plenty of leftovers.”
“Why don’t you two go sit down?” Caden said to Mike and Makenna. “We can take charge of dinner.” He looked at Patrick.
“Absolutely,” Patrick said.
Makenna pressed up onto tiptoes to give Caden a quick kiss as she passed him. “Thank you.” It was the first time they’d done something more than hold hands or sit close together in front of everyone, and Caden braced for a reaction. But there was none. Not even from Ian, who’d been very quiet around him since the accident.
The three of them heated up the food and set it out on the table. And even though Ian’s derisive words were still pinging around the back of Caden’s brain, he liked this family. Despite Ian’s snubs. Mike was loving and friendly and generous. Patrick was a good guy and a straight shooter, and they worked together as well in the kitchen as they had on the scene the night before. Collin was talkative and funny, easy going and accepting. And Makenna…Makenna was everything good and light and loving.
Soon they were all gathered around to eat, including Collin and Shima, who came down when the smells of turkey and stuffing started wafting through the house. Collin was moving a little stiffly and looking a little bleary-eyed but otherwise he’d be fine. And Caden was glad. He’d hate to see anything happen to the family Makenna loved so much. Because she deserved everything.
The meal was subdued compared to the conversation of the day before, but it was real. Real life. And for the first time, Caden actually let himself imagine being a part of it.
* * *
The past couple of days had kicked Makenna’s butt. First, the unexpected conversation with Cameron. Then, the accident. Then, the stomach virus she’d picked up that had left her queasy and exhausted. And finally, she’d barely seen Caden in the four days since they’d gotten home because he’d had back-to-back shifts that had allowed him to get the holiday off in the first place.
All of which made her very glad that they’d have tonight together. He’d made the arrangements for her to get her first tattoo, and Makenna was thrilled. And a little nervous. Okay, a lot nervous. But Caden would be right there with her.
The work day finally over, Makenna took the elevator to the first floor—her favorite elevator, the one that made her smile every time she took it because she’d met Caden in it—and made her way to the Metro. Outside, it was already dark, and the cold air bit at her skin. But she was all pure frenetic energy looking forward to tonight.
Back at her apartment, she was thrilled to find Caden home. Wearing jeans and an ACFD T-shirt, he was in the kitchen unpacking containers from plastic bags. “Hey,” she said. “What smells so good?”
“Hey, Red,” he said in a quiet voice. He turned toward her. For a split second, something in his gaze looked wrong, almost disheartened, but then he gave a little smile and his whole face changed. “I stopped at the noodle place.”
“You okay?” she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck.
“Yeah,” he said, hugging her back. “Last night’s shift was non-stop and I couldn’t seem to stay asleep today.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry,” she said. “Well, thank you for getting food. I love the noodle place.” And I love you.
She thought it so often these days that the words lived on the tip of her tongue. After the conversation about Cameron, Makenna had been so tempted to just tell Caden how she felt, but there’d been moments over
the weekend where he’d seemed stressed, and she could tell he was at his limit. They’d get there. She knew they would. The way he looked at her, the way he took care of her, the way he made love to her—it all said he felt the same way she did, even if he hadn’t given her the words.
“I know,” he said with a wink. “That’s why I stopped there.” His lips found hers, warm and exploring. She reveled in the little bites of his piercings against her skin as he kissed her again and again.
“Mmm, good appetizer,” she said around the edge of the kiss.
He grinned. “Food then tattoo. Then we can come back to appetizers after.”
“Fine,” she said, feigning being put out. “I guess I can live with that plan.”
“You excited?” he asked, returning to the counter.
Makenna couldn’t hold back her smile. “Really excited. Heath sent me the final version of the design today,” she said. “Wanna see it?”
“Of course,” he said, grabbing silverware from a drawer. Heath was the tattoo artist who’d done most of Caden’s work over the years. “He’s great, isn’t he?”
She dropped her bags on the edge of the counter and fished out the sketch. She found the sheet and made sure it was the right one before she handed it to Caden—because she had two versions of it in her bag. One for Caden to see, and one that Heath was actually going to use to make the stencil. She’d cooked up a little surprise that he couldn’t know about until the ink was done, and she was nearly bursting at the seams.
Caden studied the design for a long moment. “This is fantastic, Makenna. How big are you thinking?”
“That’s the size,” she said, imagining what it was going to look like in the center of her upper back. The circle surrounding the Celtic knot tree was about five inches round. At first, she’d thought she wanted it to be smaller, but Heath had talked her into a somewhat bigger piece so that the holes in the center of all the knot work would remain distinct as the tattoo aged.
“It’s gonna be fucking beautiful. But then, it’ll be on you, so of course it will.” He leaned down and gave her a nuzzling kiss on the cheek. “Do you want to get changed and I’ll set everything out?”