For Her Pleasure Page 23

  “Mac . . . he, uh, he was conducting a routine traffic stop. Suspected DUI.” Sean stopped and swallowed hard.

  Kit closed her eyes. God, it must be bad. Don’t let him be dead. Please don’t let him be dead. Why were they stalling? Why wouldn’t they just come out and say it?

  “When he walked up to the driver’s window, the suspect pulled out a gun and shot him.”

  Kit bolted from the couch, swayed and would have fallen if Ray hadn’t acted so quickly to catch her. Tears poured down her cheeks. Ray tugged her head until her face was buried in his chest.

  “Tell me he’s not dead,” she cried. “Please. Tell me he’s not dead!”

  “He’s not dead,” Sean said urgently. “He’s in the hospital.”

  She whirled around out of Ray’s arms. “Take me to him, Sean.” She scrambled for her shoes. Where were her goddamn shoes?

  “Honey, he’s in bad shape,” Sean added. His eyes brimmed with sympathy. “You have to know what you’re facing.”

  “But he’s alive, right?”

  “Yes,” Ray said. “He’s alive.”

  “Then take me to him,” she said in a deadly quiet voice. “I won’t let him die. I won’t let him go.”

  The men exchanged glances, and Ray retrieved his keys from his pocket. “We’ll take you in the police cruiser,” he said.

  “My shoes,” she whimpered as she looked desperately around the living room. “I need my shoes.”

  “Here they are, sweetheart,” Sean said gently.

  He held out a pair of sandals to her, and she immediately tugged them from his hand and dropped them on the floor. She shoved her feet into the shoes and started for the door.

  When the police car turned out of the driveway in the opposite direction to the hospital, she immediately demanded to know where they were taking her.

  “Honey, they had to life-flight him to Houston,” Ray said.

  She thrust her knuckles into her mouth, biting painfully into the skin. “Can you take me all the way to Houston?” she asked.

  “We’re going to drive you the whole way,” Sean said soothingly.

  He reached over and switched the lights on, speeding up as the red and blue flash lit up the night air.

  “We’ll get you there as fast as we can, Kit. Just hang tight. Are you feeling all right?”

  She looked at him in confusion. Then she realized he was referring to her miscarriage. It was the last thing on her mind right now.

  “I’m fine,” she managed to croak out.

  The highway passed in a blur as they hit the interstate. She slumped in the back seat, tears spilling down her cheeks. What would she do if she never saw him again? Never lay in his arms or heard him call her “baby”.

  She covered her face with her hands and wept big noisy sobs. Sean reached over to lay a hand on her shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Kit. Mac’s a fine cop. He didn’t deserve to go down like this.”

  “Stop talking about him like he’s already dead!” she said fiercely.

  The look of sympathy, of pure pity, he sent her chased a chill down her spine. God, it must be bad. So bad. Sean and Ray didn’t expect him to be alive when they got there. They thought they were bringing her to Houston to view a body.

  She turned to look out the window, dying on the inside. She couldn’t live without Mac. She simply couldn’t.

  When they arrived at the hospital in Houston, Ray got out at the after-hours entrance with her while Sean went to park the car. They hurried inside, stopping at the ER desk to ask where Mac was.

  Kit held her breath, waiting for the look of sympathy to appear on the clerk’s face, waiting to hear that he hadn’t made it.

  After tapping on the keys of her computer, she looked up and said, “Mr. McKenzie is still in surgery. If you walk down this hall, take the elevator on the left. Go to the second floor, get off and go right. You’ll run right into the surgery waiting room. I’ll let them know you’re here so that when there is any news they’ll notify you.”

  Kit gulped and stood statuelike, afraid to move. Ray guided her forward, and she stumbled against him. He caught her and steadied her before they continued on.

  As they arrived at the elevator, Sean ran up behind them. He huffed as he sought to catch his breath.

  “What’s the word?” he asked.

  “He’s in surgery,” Ray said shortly. “We’re headed up there now.”

  The elevator doors opened with a swoosh, and they moved forward. Ray reached over to push the button, and they waited for the doors to close.

  “He’ll make it,” she said fiercely.

  Sean wrapped an arm around her and squeezed. “He’s a fighter, Kit. If he’s made it this far, he’ll pull through. He has a lot to live for.”

  She closed her eyes. Please, Mac. Don’t die.

  She paced the waiting room for the hundredth time. She checked her watch even knowing, at the most, two minutes had elapsed since the last time she’d looked.

  The waiting room had filled with off-duty cops, all waiting to hear word about Mac. Sheriff Johnson had driven in as soon as he’d heard. And their cell phones rang regularly as the on-duty personnel, state troopers and the city cops called to check in on Mac.

  Every few minutes, one of the cops would ask her if she needed anything. If she wanted something to eat or drink. If she needed to sit down. She wanted to scream. She needed Mac! She needed him alive, well, loving her, touching her.

  Finally exhaustion claimed her. She slumped into a chair in the corner and felt the tears begin to fall once more. Sean squatted in front of her and put a hand to her cheek.

  “We’ve seen some tough times together, Kit.”

  She knew he was referring to her first attack and then that night a year ago when her attacker had struck again.

  “You’re tough. Mac’s tough.”

  “I’m not tough,” she whispered. “Mac’s the strong one. He’s always taken care of me.”

  “That’s bullshit and there ain’t a person who doesn’t know it. Sure Mac takes good care of you. He’d be a fool not to. But you’re the toughest woman I know, Kit. You keep that boy in line. You’ve kept him and Ryder both in line for years.”

  She froze at Ryder’s name. “Someone should tell Ryder,” she said quietly. It wouldn’t be her. But he’d want to know. He and Mac had been friends as long as she and Ryder had.

  “I’ll take care of it, sweetheart. You just sit tight and get a little rest. You’ve been through hell lately.”

  “Miss Townsend?”

  Kit jumped up at the sound of her name. She strode over to the desk situated at the front of the room. “I’m Miss Townsend,” she said.

  Behind her the cops congregated, all waiting to hear any news of Mac.

  “Mr. McKenzie is out of surgery now. The doctor will come talk to you in a few minutes if you’d like to take a seat in our family room.”

  The receptionist gestured toward a small room a few feet away that offered privacy from the larger room.

  “I’ll go with you,” Sean offered, squeezing her shoulder.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  She walked stiffly toward the room and sat down in one of the chairs. She stared down at the floor, every second that she waited excruciating.

  Finally she heard a noise at the door. She looked up to see a doctor, still in surgical scrubs, standing in the doorway.

  “Are you here with Mr. McKenzie?”

  She tried to speak, cleared her throat then merely nodded.

  “I believe in giving it straight,” the doctor began. “Mr. McKenzie suffered a massive chest wound. He’s come out of surgery, but he’s in a coma.”

  She sucked in her breath, feeling every drop of blood drain from her face.

  “Will he . . .”

  “Will he live?” the doctor finished. “Quite frankly, I’m amazed he made it to the hospital. Even more amazed he survived the surgery.”

  Tears filled Kit’s eyes.
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  “He’s in pretty bad shape, but he’s alive. Despite all odds, he’s fighting for life. He’s got some tough days ahead, and a long recovery if he survives. I can’t offer any guarantees that he’ll make it. Only time will tell. Obviously the longer he lives, the better his chances are of recovery.”

  Kit slumped further into her chair, dazed, horrified and hopeful all at the same time. “When can I see him?” she asked.

  “He’ll be in recovery for awhile. Then he’ll be taken to ICU. After they get everything set up, they’ll let you go in for short periods of time. I feel compelled to warn you. When you first see him, it’ll be a shock. He won’t look anything like the man you know. You need to prepare yourself for that.”

  Kit nodded her understanding. “Th-thank you,” she managed to stammer out.

  The doctor looked at her, his expression softening. “Don’t thank me until he goes home from the hospital. Then I’ll have done my job right.”

  If Sean hadn’t been holding on to her so tightly, Kit would have collapsed when she got her first look at Mac.

  “I’ve got you,” Sean said as he sought to steady her.

  Tears filled her eyes at the sight of the big strong man lying so helplessly on the hospital bed. There were wires, IV lines and tubes everywhere.

  He was hooked to a respirator, and the whooshing sound echoed harshly in her ears.

  Hesitantly, she approached his bed. He looked so still and lifeless. If it weren’t for the heart monitor, she’d think he was dead.

  “Oh, Mac,” she choked out.

  Sean held a firm hand on her shoulder as she reached out a hand to touch Mac’s. She flinched. His skin felt cold, lifeless.

  A nurse walked into the glassed-in cubicle and smiled kindly at her. “You’ll have to leave now. You can see him in a few hours if you like. I’ll come get you in the waiting room when you’re allowed back again. Our visiting hours are from 9 A.M. to 9 P.M. daily. No more than two visitors are ever allowed in at a time.”

  Kit nodded, still too numb to form a coherent thought.

  “Come on,” Sean coaxed. “You need to eat. I’ll take you down to the cafeteria. We’ll come back when we can see him again.”

  Kit followed meekly behind Sean but paused at the door to look back at Mac. “I love you,” she whispered brokenly. “Please don’t leave me.”

  CHAPTER 15

  Ryder roared into the parking lot of the Two Step and jammed down his kickstand. He was hungry, in a foul mood and he could use a beer. Or three.

  He’d pretty much come to the conclusion he was rotten company. Mia’s avoidance was a good clue. She’d told him what a dumbass he was then refused to speak to him at the strip club. After that, he’d taken refuge in his garage, refusing to go anywhere he might run into Mac or Kit.

  At least now that he’d gotten Kit to quit her job he wouldn’t be running into her at the café, and he could get a burger in relative peace.

  Despite everything, he really hadn’t liked her working here. It involved way too many painful memories for them all, and he worried about her safety. The money he’d given her would last a good long while, and by the time she needed to get another job, she could find something better.

  He tromped into the bar and flinched at the blare of music that greeted him. His string of hangovers was catching up to him real fast.

  He moseyed up to the bar and gestured for the bartender. He ordered two beers and a burger and immediately set to drinking the first.

  “Ryder? What the hell are you doing here?” Sean Gardner asked as he walked up to the bar. “I thought you’d be in Houston.”

  Ryder glared over at the cop in his best do-not-disturb impression.

  Sean stared hard at him, his lips curled in distaste. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you and Mac. Ain’t none of my business.”

  “Damn straight,” Ryder agreed.

  Sean ignored him and continued.

  “But you’re being the worst sort of ass. He’s fighting for his life, and Kit, Lord knows she could use some support. The girl’s been at his side day and night for days now. Won’t eat. Won’t sleep. She’s not going to last at the rate she’s going.”

  Ryder’s blood ran cold. He turned on Sean and hauled him up by his uniform. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Sean drew in a deep breath, his eyes widening in shock. “You don’t know, do you? How in the world could you not know?”

  “Know what? Spit it out for Christ’s sake.”

  “Have you been home to check your messages? I left several there and on your cell phone.”

  “I’ve had my cell turned off,” Ryder bit out. “Now tell me what the fuck is going on before I lose my temper.”

  Sean’s eyes glimmered in regret. “It’s Mac. He was shot the other night. Had to life-flight him to Houston. Me and Ray drove Kit to Houston to be with him. But it’s bad, man. And Kit’s about to fall apart.”

  Ryder let go of Sean’s shirt and sank back onto the bar stool. Mac shot? Dear God. While he’d been off licking his wounds, Mac was fighting to hang onto life, and Kit was alone?

  He closed his eyes, regret beating through his system like an overdose of steroids.

  “Where?” he croaked out.

  He was already running for the door, Sean on his heels.

  “Ryder, damn it, don’t go and kill yourself.”

  “I’ll be careful,” Ryder said as he climbed onto his bike. “Kit needs me.”

  Ryder hated hospitals. The cold, sterile environment reminded him too much of his father. Nothing good ever came of being in a hospital. Three times he’d been there for Kit, and each time had ripped his guts out.

  He walked slowly down the polished floor toward the cubicle the nurse had pointed to. He dreaded what he’d find. He paused for a moment to take a deep breath before finally stepping through the door.

  What he saw tore his heart right out of his chest.

  Mac lay there, motionless, a multitude of shit running from head to toe. Kit sat beside the bed, her head resting on Mac’s hip. He could hear her sobs from the doorway, each sound sending a bolt of pain through his body.

  “Don’t leave me, Mac,” she whispered, so much agony in her voice. “You promised never to leave me.”

  Ryder’s gut clenched. So had he. And he’d lied.

  Unable to keep from touching her, he stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Darlin’, you’re going to make yourself sick.”

  Her head came up and she whipped around to look at him. He winced at her appearance. Tired, haggard. Deep circles pitted her eyes. Her green eyes were dull with pain, and her cheeks blotchy from her crying.

  “What are you doing here?” she managed to get out.