Mercy West

Saturday / Sunday

Fuck it, I think as I look at my watch. I’ve waited long enough.

I whistle to the boys. “Bus is leaving.”

“Headed to O’Donnell’s?” Vander asks.

“Not tonight, no.”

“This is because high schools are still in town?” He rolls his eyes.

“V, I’ll let you know what’s up when I wrap my brain around it.”

He laughs. “Bro, I’m not sweating shit. You’ll be ready to go on a bender when she’s back in Bumfuck, Texas. Tear it up, man.”

“Can we get Taco Bell again?” AJ asks.

V shakes his head and opens the door as an ambulance and cop car fly toward us from somewhere on the property.

“What the fuck?” He laughs.

When I see Marks tearing ass out behind them, I run to my vehicle.

I’m in and backing up when I see the boys standing there. Bennett slams his hand on the door as I pass. I slam on the brakes as I roll down my window.

“Get the fuck in.”

They all pile in as Bennett yells, “Their fucking rules, man. You don’t leave us behind!”

“Bennett, not the time,” Nour warns.

“Everyone fucking in?” I ask.

“All good,” Nour says. “Let’s roll.”

I fly through three lights and catch up to the cops, who are following the ambulance. Marks is nowhere to be seen.

I fly into the parking lot, slam on the brakes behind the cop, slide out, and hear, “Thirty-four-year-old female, GSW, unconscious, heart rate dropping.”

My fucking world explodes.

“Go,” Nour states. “We’ll be in the waiting room.”

“Twenty-five-year-old male, head injury.”

“I’m fine. Take care of Gwen. Fucking take care of Gwen!” Roman’s voice breaks.

I run to the back of the bus and see her beaten, broken, and bloody.

“Tell me he’s in custody!” I roar. “Tell me that motherfucker is in custody!”

“Marks has him,” Rome answers.

“I’m going with her.”

When I try to step into the elevator, a nurse tells me, “You’ll have to wait.”

“I’m her fiancé.”

“Take the next elevator to the fourth floor.”

The doors shut, and I turn to find the fucking stairs.

“Locke, you good?” Cyrus Steel is standing there, hands covered in blood.

I shake my head, and then I hear, “Roman Hart, I’m Officer Jones. Can you tell me what happened?”

“Fucking sure can. William Center is a violent, vile man who was just paroled from prison in California, and he came here to kill his daughters. He mistook Gwen York as Cecilia Shaw, shot her, and was trying to drown her when I found them. Cyrus Steel can give you more information. But William Center did this. Get in touch with his parole officer.”

“Hart was out cold, and they’re?—”

Cyrus clamps a hand on my shoulder. “Get to the fourth floor, kid. Your fiancée?”

“She will be.”

***

As soon as I step out of the stairwell, I see Jase Steel standing at the nurse’s station and hear, “Fiancé, Leland Locke.”

“Once she’s stable, we’ll let him in, but he can’t get in our way.”

“You’ll hardly know he’s there,” Jase assures her as I step to his side.

“Where was she shot?” I ask the tall, gray-haired woman.

“Luckily, in the arm. The bullet is still inside. We’ll attempt to remove it.” She pats my hand. “Can we ask you some questions?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Her full name and birthday?”

My eyes heat up. “Gwendolyn Rose York, but she hates that. Gwen, she likes Gwen. She’ll be thirty-five on August seventeenth, and my wife before then. She’s got that rare blood type, O-negative.”

“Congratulations, Mr. Locke.”

I nod.

“Any allergies?”

“Fuck.” I shake my head. “Strawberries, but?—”

“We’re more concerned with latex and medications.”

“No latex allergies.” I pull out my phone. “I can get the rest from her mom, but?—”

“Take your time, kid.” Jase nods to the waiting room.

“She’s going to be okay, right?” I ask as a fucking tear falls.

“We’re going to do everything we can. We’ll know more when we get the x-rays back.”

She looks at Jase. “You boys did good.”

I scroll through my phone to find Deborah’s number. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I sit down and hit call.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Ms. Debbie.”

“Leland.” The way she says my name, she knows something’s up. “Did they get him?” Her voice breaks.

“They did. They got him. But here’s the thing; Gwen is heading up to surgery soon. She was shot in the arm.”

“Oh my God,” she gasps.

“And I know Annie’s around there somewhere. Assure her that Marks is good. He has him in custody. Can you tell me, aside from strawberries, what allergies Gwendolyn has?”

“None.” She sniffs.

I look at Jase and shake my head no, and he heads to the desk to relay the message.

“I’d tell you not to cry, but I’m fighting that fight myself. What I can do is promise you that I’m not leaving her side until she opens those gorgeous eyes she got from you.”

“She made sliders and mac”—she sobs—“in the crockpot.”

“Yeah?” I ask.

“She said she made extra for y’all, but I know she made it because it was your favorite at our place.”

I can’t help but laugh a little. “She may get ornery if she knows you told me that, but Ms. Deb, Gwendolyn’s certainly gonna be upset when the nurses tell her she’s my fiancée.”

“You didn’t.” She laughs then sniffs.

“Oh, you know I did,” I say, realizing how deep my southern drawl is when conversing with anyone from home. “I’m gonna be here. You don’t mind me messaging you when I get word now, do you?”

“Annie’s making flight arrangements now. we’ll make sure to get the Wi-Fi upgrade.”

“All right. Now, let me know your flight information, and I’ll arrange a car to bring you from the Trenton airport to Mercy West.”

“Please tell her I love her and give her a kiss for me.”

“I certainly will, Ms. Deb. You fly safe now, you hear?”

I head to the desk. “Any word?”

“The doctor will be out to speak to you before surgery.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Anything I can do?” Jase asks.

I shake my head. “I need to call Whitley.” I glance at him. “Roman may need help with the cops.”

“Cyrus is with him. I’m here with you.”

“Appreciate that, but?—”

“No buts, kid. Make that call. Whit’s family, too.”

I call Pope’s number and tell him what happened. He assures me that he and Whit will be here and contact Danny and Chloe.

“Hey, Locke.”

I look up to see Dromida O’Donnell. “Hey?”

Jase stands, walks to her, and gives her a hug. “You gonna take care of Locke’s girl?”

“Fiancée, I hear.” She smiles.

I stand up, ready to explain. “Look?—”

“You’re good, and Gwen is going to be, too. Come with me.”

I glance at Jase.

“I’ll be right here.”

“You don’t have to.”

“That’s what family does. Now go.” He lifts his chin. “We got your back.”

Dromida stops at the desk and says, “I need Marcello Effisto’s here to consult on two head injuries.”

“He’s not on call tonight, Dr.—”

“Has to be him. Tell him I said so.”

***

When we step into her room, her eyes are open, but she’s not all there.

“Gwen, Leland is here, and Jase Steel is outside in the waiting room.”

She looks at me. “Marks?”

I gently take her hand. “He’s okay. Roman is okay. And you, Gwendo—Gwen, are going to be okay.”

“Chloe?”

“I called Pope after I called Ms. Deb. They’re all heading here. Whit’s gonna call Chloe and Danny.”

“Mom?”

“She told me to give you a kiss and tell you that she loves you.” I lean in and just barely kiss her cheek, not wanting to hurt her.

“Thank you.”

I close my eyes tight, not wanting to fucking cry.

“Dr. Effisto is a neurologist who will review Hart’s CT scans to ensure he’s healthy. I’ll have him look over yours, as well.”

“ ’Kay.”

“Dr. Sophie Chang is an OBGYN. I’m going to have her do a quick consult, as well.”

“ ’Kay, but why?”

“You’re very early, maybe eight weeks, so your baby is near bulletproof, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

I do the math real quick, and it’s not matching.

“I don’t understand,” Gwen whispers, pulling her hand from mine and placing it over her belly.

“Conception date doesn’t determine the weeks pregnant. Weeks are based on the last period. Have you missed a period?”

“I don’t think so.”

“When was your last cycle?”

“Before Walton.”

“Have you been nauseous or tired?”

“I’m not pregnant,” Gwen says, turning her head away from me. “I can’t have babies.”

“Who told you that?” Dromida asks, and Gwen doesn’t say anything. “Have you been pregnant before?”

She doesn’t answer that, either.

“Do you mind stepping outside for a minute?” Dromida waves her hand toward the door.

“I’ll step outside, but is it necessary to ask her questions that upset her? She’s been through?—”

“Locke.” Dromida arches a brow. “You’re here on grace.”

“Dr. O’Donnell, I’m here until Gwendolyn asks me to leave.” I stand up and kiss her cheek again. “I’ll be right out there, okay?”

She doesn’t say a word.

Outside, I hear everything that’s said.

Gwendolyn York had a miscarriage when she was nineteen; she was fifteen weeks pregnant. She knew she had gotten pregnant around Halloween time her freshman year and made the decision to have an abortion, but she miscarried a week before it was scheduled while attending college. Due to the nature of her miscarriage, she’s been told she would never have kids.

The grief I feel at the loss of a child—our child—it fucking hurts. So does the fact that she didn’t trust me to help her through whatever decision she made, that Gwendolyn was told she couldn’t have kids, and is now lying in there after being beaten and shot, almost dying, knowing there’s a possibility of losing a child that she was told she’d never have …

“You’re wrong, Dromida. The test was wrong.”

“Dr. Chang will be here soon. I won’t operate on a thirty-four-year-old, possibly pregnant woman without consulting an OBGYN because, Gwen, you’re my age, and this baby gives me hope. I’m going to protect it like you would your friends.”

“Please knock me out.”

When Dromida walks out, I push up from my squatted position, unsure of when I even put myself in it.

“She’s lucky to be here.”

“The world is lucky she’s here,” I correct her.

I walk in and see tears—fucking tears—falling down her fucked-up face.

I sit beside her. “Hey, Gwen.”

“I can’t with you right now.”

“I wouldn’t let you if you could. You’re still in the zone. You got the bad guy, but now your focus needs to switch to healing.”

I turn to the door when a woman walks in.

“Hello, Gwen. I’m Dr. Chang. Dr. O’Donnell wants me to do a quick exam so she can get you all fixed up.”

I stand up off the bed, unsure of what to do.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I heard that.” Dr Chang bends her knees and plants her feet on the bed. “Just a quick exam, and then Dr. O’Donnell will be back, and you will be on your way to having that arm all fixed up.”

She turns and looks up at me. “Don’t look.”

“I can leave and come?—”

“Don’t leave. Don’t look.”

I turn and face the wall. “On a scale of one can and a twelve pack or Crawford Bock, where you sitting?”

Her busted lips twitch up. “Thirteen.”

“How about when you get out of here, we have a shotgun rematch.”

“I always win.”

“You do.”

“Can you relax your knees for me, Gwen?”

She lifts her eyes to me—well, the one not swollen shut—and I do what I do—try to make Gwendolyn York smile.

“Swear to God that wasn’t me this time.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“I’d dress like a clown every day if it made you smile.”

“You hate clowns.” Her words are slower, her eyes slowly closing.

“You falling asleep, Gwen?”

When she doesn’t answer, Dr. Chang does. “Dr. O’Donnell gave her something more to relax her.”

She steps back, removes her gloves, then lays her legs back down gently. Then she smiles at me and nods.

“Will it survive?” I ask quietly.

“I believe so.” She squeezes my arm. “When your fiancée is feeling more like herself, please let her know I specialize in high-risk pregnancies, and although I’m not taking on new patients, I would make the exception.”

“Appreciate that, Dr. Chang.”

When she walks out of the room, I hear, “Hello, Whitley, how have you been?”

Wrong or not, I bend down and press my lips to Gwendolyn York’s and whisper against them, “I will always love you.”

Once Gwendolyn’s on her way to surgery, I call Ms. Deb.

“Leland?”

“Ms. Deb, I just wanted to let you and Annie know that not one but three doctors have cleared Gwen for surgery, and she’s going to get through it just fine.”

“Thank you for calling, for being there. We can’t get a flight out until one o’clock tomorrow.” She sniffs. “We could drive, but?—”

“Remember that time I brought her home from a bonfire at Pat’s place?”

“How could I forget?”

“She’s in about the same shape right now—making no sense, telling people what to do, bossy, Ms. Deb, and downright irritable. By the time you and Annie get here, all that pain medication should be just about out of her system, and she’ll be as sweet as can be. Until then, Whitley, Pope, and I are here, and a whole lot of the Jags family, too. We’ll see you as soon as you touch down, all right?”

After we say our goodbyes, I think aloud, “How are Danny and the Shaw girls getting here?”

“Shit,” Whitley says then sighs loudly.

“Fuck,” Pope grumbles at the same time.

Not gonna say I’m not a little pissed off about that, ’cause I am.

Jase stands. “You wanna take a walk with me?”

“Yeah.” I push off the wall. “Should go down and let the boys know what’s up.”

We head to the elevator, and he asks, “How are you holding up?”

“Barely.”

“Thinking you may want to skip tomorrow’s game.” He presses the down arrow.

“Nah, I’m sure?—”

“I’m not asking; I’m telling you. Take the night. Take two, if you need them. We already have this series won.”

“I appreciate that, but if she wakes up hating me and needing me to be gone, I’ll need a distraction.”

“They ruled it arson,” he says as we step into the opening elevator and he hits the first-floor button.

“Good. He’ll do more time.”

“They have Janice in custody.”

“Good. Hope that bitch burns, too.” I lean against the wall and close my eyes.

“And Marks is in jail,” he says as the elevator stops and the door slides open.

I can’t help but laugh at his way of delivering shit news. “What could they have possibly gotten him on?”

“Thankfully, not murder one.” He shakes his head. “Wasn’t sure Hart wasn’t gonna kill that son of a bitch even before Marks got a hold of him.”

“So, how did Marks end up in jail?”

“Williams was cuffed in the back of his car, which, yeah, that’s easy to explain away, but Marks not pulling over while being pursued for ten miles; that’s the issue.”

“Where was he taking him?”

“That’s the other issue.” Jase chuckles. “Somewhere he’d never be found, his exact words. Justice and Gabby are on their way to get him out.”

When we step into the waiting room, it’s packed. Half with Jags players, and half with Steel.