Mine to Keep: Protection Series Book 4, page 31
“What aren’t you telling me?” I gritted out, jaw locked tight as I shuffled on the bed to shift the pillow lower.
“We’re in deep shit.”
I stilled. “What do you mean, we’re in deep shit?”
“Well, the guy we wrongly arrested wants to sue the Bureau and the Louisville PD, The Black Rose is threatening a lawsuit for running a sting inside their hotel without approval, you were shot with Rhyan’s gun, and she was handcuffed to the van with her own handcuffs. It’s a clusterfuck out there.” He tilted his head toward the door. “And she’s… hell, she’s not taking it well.”
My heart sank. “What does that mean?”
“It means she won’t talk to anyone. She’s nothing but despondent to me, the nurses, her friend who’s called a million times.”
“She’s blaming herself,” I stated. There was no question about it. Her overactive mind was playing tricks on her, making her think everything that went sideways was her fault. “I need to see her.”
“Thought you’d say that,” he muttered with a wide yawn. He picked up a stack of clothes from the cheap metal chair in the corner and tossed them to the foot of the bed. “Picked up some of your clothes from the hotel. But I sure as fuck am not dressing you.”
My responding chuckle hurt like hell, turning it into more of a pain-filled groan. Damnit, being shot even with a vest on fucking hurt. I would be sore for weeks, though that was significantly better than having to rehab the shoulder.
“Get a nurse to help.” As much as I didn’t want the help, there was no way I could get dressed alone from the pain and damn wires and tubes. I called out to Bryson as he reached for the door handle. “What are we looking at, for disciplinary actions?”
His wide shoulders slumped.
Damn, that was not a good sign.
“Your boss and the assistant deputy director of the whole damn FBI are coming—” He checked his watch. “—any minute now. Get dressed. She’ll need you at her side for this.”
“Thank you,” I called. He paused while reaching for the door handle and turned to look over his shoulder. “For… hell, for everything. I’ll make sure you stay out of the line of fire in this battle. You helped save Rhyan. I’ll take all the blame if I need to.”
“I can hold my own—”
“You have a daughter to think about. Rhyan and I got us into this. We’ll make sure ADD Garr knows that.” Not sure how, but we would, or I would. If I could figure out a way to take all the blame, I’d play that card. ADD Garr was known as a hard-ass, strictly by the book type. “And thanks for the clothes.”
“You’re welcome. It was self-serving. I didn’t want to see your pale ass when you fought your way to Rhyan’s room despite the doctor’s orders.” One corner of his lips twitched upward. “I’ll go get the nurse.”
When the door closed, I pushed past the pain, bending the arm not wrapped in gauze and bandages. Slipping a hand beneath the scratchy-ass gown, I ripped off the first wire I touched, moving on to find the others. Equipment blared in warning, lights flashed, but I didn’t stop until every sensor was disconnected.
A swarm of nurses stormed through the door, catching me before I could remove the port taped to the back of my hand.
“Mr. Bekham,” one of the older women in sea-green scrubs chastised. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Going to see my girl,” I stated while shifting to the edge of the bed. “You can either help me or get out of my way. She needs me, and I sure as hell won’t lie here doing jack shit.”
“You’re recovering—”
“Yeah, I got the rundown from my friend. Which is it, helping or getting out of my way?”
Her thin lips pressed into a tight line, the other two nurses watching her reaction.
“You keep that IV in,” she demanded, jamming a finger toward my hand. “The river water is nasty, and you gave those germs a direct line to your bloodstream. You’ll both need antibiotics for at least another day.”
Thank fuck. I relaxed, pausing all movement. Already, sweat slicked my skin from the pain and spent energy.
After dismissing the other two younger nurses, she stood at my bedside.
“This is a terrible idea.”
“Yeah it is,” I said, laughing, then groaning. “But it’s the only option. I have to be with her.”
She sighed and flipped the blankets back, the cold air a welcomed reprieve from the heat building beneath my skin.
“Stubborn-ass men,” she said with a click of her tongue. “I’ll help you sit up, but be prepared. All this movement will hurt.”
I dipped my chin, already prepared for the pain and exhaustion to come.
As long as I got to see Rhyan, make her understand this wasn’t her fault, then I’d take it all.
* * *
Hospital room doorways passed on either side as the nurse wheeled me down the busy hall. If anyone asked, I’d say she forced me into the wheelchair, though that was a stretch. It took little push from the nurse to get me to concede. I underestimated the energy it would take to get dressed around all the tubes, and how the full-body pain would drain even more.
But I did it, and now I got Rhyan as my reward.
We took a right down another long hall, turning into the second door on the left. My heart swelled, breath catching at the sight of her. Head turned to the side, Rhyan faced the single window, unfocused eyes open.
“Miss Riggs, you have a persistent visitor,” the nurse murmured at my back as she wheeled me to Rhyan’s bedside.
No response.
“Give us a second,” I muttered over my shoulder, not taking my eyes off the woman I loved.
Purple-and-green bruises dotted her face, red hair sticking up and knotted, and her face was pale—too pale. Yet she still looked beautiful. Against the odds, she’d survived, worked her way from death’s door to come back to me.
“Baby,” I rasped the moment the nurse left. Grimacing through the pain blooming from my shoulder, I rested my arm atop the white blanket, nudging her fingers with my own. “Look at me.”
“No.” A single tear dripped from the corner of her eye, rolling down her bruised cheek.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Rhyan,” I growled. Hooking a finger through one of hers, I gave it a weak squeeze. “Look at me. Now.”
Her hair rasped along the thin pillowcase. Sad, defeated, bloodshot green eyes locked on me. “I’m so sorry,” she said in a rushed whisper. “I fucked everything up. It’s all—”
“You’re killing me here, Rhyan,” I groaned. “I want to shut you up, but I can’t get out of this fucking thing to kiss you.”
The mention of my condition opened the floodgates. Her desolate sob rattled through the small room as streams of tears cascaded down her face. “You got hurt because of my incompetence.” Turning, she went back to staring out the window. “I got the profile wrong, I helped arrest the wrong man, and then I put myself in the worst situation with the actual unsub.”
“Stop.” I pushed strength into my voice. “We worked the case together. I didn’t catch the fact that our killer was a woman either. You stated from the beginning that something was off. Everything else was spot-on. And the arresting thing, well, you might not have jumped the gun in accusing him if I hadn’t been desperate for you to get out of that damn room. I was the one who told you his real background matched our parameters and to react the moment you saw anything suspicious. That’s on me, Rhyan.” Green eyes cut to the side, watching me from the corners. “And the last part, well, I’d love to hear how you ended up with her.”
“I was an idiot.”
“Doubt that. Tell me.”
By the time she was done explaining what happened from the moment she left the hotel to the ambulance ride here, the sun had set, the last of the day’s bright rays piercing through the tinted window. With a sigh, she lay back, closing her eyes.
I should have left her alone, let her rest. Hell, I was fucking exhausted, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I needed to know. Needed to know if she meant it.
“Rhyan,” I whispered.
“It’s okay, Charlie,” she said, eyes squeezed shut. “I can forget what you said. It was the heat of the moment, you’d just saved me, and—”
“Do you want to forget it? Want me to not love you?” There was no hiding the pain in my low tone.
“No,” she whispered, lids flying open. “Of course not. I… I want it to be true because….” She blew out a slow breath. “I need it to be true.”
“Good.”
“Good?”
“Because it is true. I fucking love you, Rhyan Riggs.” I tried to stand to get on the damn bed and hold her while I ripped open my heart for this woman, but I only rose an inch before collapsing back down. Okay, rain check on that holding part. “You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met, inside and out. The way your mind works fascinates me, and the shit that comes out of your mouth makes me laugh harder than I have in years.”
“Really?”
“Yes, baby. I love you, and I will work every day we’re together to ensure you never forget that.”
“Really?”
I smirked. “This is once again where I’d shut you up with a kiss, but that will have to wait.”
“You don’t blame me?”
“Blame you for what?”
“For making a terrible decision, missing the profile, and—”
“No, Rhyan. You were trying to be a good person, helping a stranded woman in need. That damn woman took advantage of your kind heart. She knew the moment she met you at the bar that you’d stop for her. I’m willing to bet she sealed the deal by mentioning something about kids.”
Rhyan’s grimace was all the confirmation I needed.
“We’ve always said killers are the best profilers. It’s how they know who and how to target their victims to get them to forgo all warning signs.”
“Charlie—”
The door flew open, cutting her off. Two men in suits walked through, one smiling—Carter—and the other, ADD Garr, looking fucking pissed off at the world.
Fuck, I hated our section chief. Prick was gloating in the fact that we fucked up.
Rhyan stiffened, pulling her hand away from mine.
“Riggs, Bekham,” the asshole said louder than necessary. “You’re fired.”
30
RHYAN
Instead of listening to our idiot section chief, I watched Assistant Deputy Director Garr.
And he watched me.
Charlie groaned as he tried to turn the wheelchair around to face the two intruders.
Without a word, Garr strode to Charlie’s side and wheeled the chair in a tight circle, parking him back at my side but this time facing the door.
“Thanks,” Charlie grumbled.
“There will be a formal review—”
“Review? So, then, how are we fired if there hasn’t been a review?” I questioned, sweeping my gaze to the idiot.
His chest puffed out. “Based on the reports—”
“Whose reports? I haven’t filed anything yet, and I know Agent Bekham just woke from surgery, so I know he hasn’t filed his incident report yet either.”
I took slight delight in the way his face flushed red. Why in the hell did I wait so damn long to stand up to this man? It needed to stop, now. I would not allow him to ruin Charlie’s career or Bryson’s because he was incompetent at his job and allowed personal feelings to trump facts.
Did I mess up? Yes.
Would I pay for those mistakes? Yes.
But firing me before an internal investigation? I think the fuck not.
“There are several parties ready to sue the Bureau because of your incompetence—”
“Carter,” Garr barked. The other man flinched. “As we discussed on the plane, this is not your call. It is mine and the review board’s. SSA Riggs has valid points against your claim of being fired.” Turning on the heels of his polished shoes, he ripped the door open and pointed toward the hall. “As also discussed, you’re not needed. Wait for me in the hall. Do not, I repeat, do not speak to anyone. If I find out you’ve said a word, I will fire your ass without an investigation.”
Charlie sat up straighter, and if I wasn’t mistaken, his shoulders shook with restrained laughter.
“But, sir—”
“Out,” the ADD ordered. The door slammed shut behind the dismissed man. When Garr turned back around, he scrubbed a large hand over his face. “Fucking hell, that man is an idiot.”
This time Charlie didn’t hold back, and his bark of laughter somehow made my smile grow wider.
“You really should’ve taken that role, Rhyan. When you turned it down, you stuck me with that moron until I can dump his ass on another agency.”
“Sorry,” I said, relaxing back against the pillow, my energy draining. “I wasn’t ready.”
His gray brows flicked higher. “Are you saying you might be now?”
I nodded. “I am.”
Garr’s green eyes slid to Charlie. Only because I’d known the man my whole life did I notice him suppress a smile.
“Well, that’s great to hear. Now, would either of you care to tell me what the hell really happened Sunday night and how my niece ended up in a serial killer’s hands?”
“Your niece?” Charlie exclaimed.
Uncle Garr’s smile finally broke free. “We keep it very hush-hush around Quantico so no one can claim favoritism.”
Charlie twisted to stare me down. I held up both hands in surrender.
“I would’ve told you, but you never asked why I wanted to be an FBI agent.” I tilted my head toward the man making his way to the other side of the hospital bed. His large hand grasped my fingers and squeezed. “Uncle Garr is my mother’s brother. He wooed me at a very early age with his stories of hunting killers and saving lives. I always knew I wanted to grow up and be just like him.”
“Brilliant, handsome, and a likable fucker.” Uncle Garr laughed.
“Well, she surely is all that and more,” Charlie said as he grabbed my other hand and squeezed. Uncle Garr tracked the movement. “Sir, I—”
“We’ll figure that,” he said with a pointed look at our interlaced fingers, “out later. For now, someone please tell me what the hell happened? Rhyan’s mom and that insistent friend of hers won’t stop calling demanding updates.”
My loud laugh made both men grin. The throb in my head and dull ache from the fracture seemed less severe than just seconds ago.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll start from the beginning. Agent Bennett brought a case to Agent Bekham’s attention several days ago…”
It took a solid hour, Charlie adding in a few details here and there, to walk Uncle Garr through the last several days. I left out the intimate times between Charlie and me, of course, and that we were in love.
Yeah, in love. Together. My heart swelled to the point of bursting every time I repeated his earlier declaration.
Uncle Garr blew out a heavy breath through tight lips and scrubbed a hand over his weary features. “He’s worse than I thought,” he grumbled, staring at the door as if he could see through it to our asshole section chief just on the other side.
“I’m more concerned about his blatant dislike for Agent Bekham—”
“For fuck’s sake, Rhy. Call him Charlie. Enough with the formalities.”
I felt my face flush with heat. “His blatant dislike for Charlie. Charlie hasn’t been with the unit long and has already made a positive impact. He started strong, brings a technical ability that none of the other agents have, and already has a firm grasp on profiling.”
“Whoa,” Uncle Garr said. “I know, Rhyan. You don’t have to sell me on Bekham here. I’m the one who pushed his transfer through.”
“You were?” Charlie said. His lids drooped. Fuck, he had to be exhausted from sitting up this whole time. We needed to wrap this up so he could get back in his bed, even though the thought of him leaving sent a burst of panic through my veins, my pulse racing.
“I was. I wanted to see what you could add to the cases with your technical ability, though I have to admit I’ve been slightly disappointed in the results.”
“He’s kept me on a tight leash,” Charlie gritted out, the muscle along his jaw popping. “He made sure I knew I wasn’t to use my capabilities. That’s what our analysts at Quantico are for.”
Uncle Garr muttered something under his breath. “Well, that explains that.” Turning to face me, he brushed a knuckle down the side of my head. “You two need to rest. I’ll take Carter back with me, then send the jet to pick you both up in three days. We’ll discuss next steps then. Bekham.” With a nod, he headed out the door.
Charlie and I sat in silence for several minutes after Uncle Garr left. Building lights flickered in the window, darkness having fully overtaken the sky. My own lids grew heavy.
“I’ll never stop loving you,” I whispered to Charlie. “No matter what happens, you’re a part of me I never want to lose or forget. You make me a better me just by being near you.” Not the most eloquent of words, but hey, I was half asleep already.
At the whoosh of the door, I forced my eyes open. An older, pissed-off-looking nurse strode into the room, beelining for Charlie.
“Mr. Bekham,” she chastised. I couldn’t help but smile. “You’re hours past the time for you to be back in your bed.”
“Bring one in here.” His words were slurred, lids barely opening. “Not leaving. She loves me.”
“I can’t—”
“Bring his bed in here, please.” My pathetic plea was annoying even to my own ears. “I don’t want to sleep alone.”
“It’s against the rules,” she stated, but the tilt in her voice hinted that she was considering our request.
“Story of his life,” I said, smirking.
I must have drifted off to sleep for a minute, noises and hushed whispers pulling me back awake. Turning to the commotion, I blinked at the fuzzy scene as they helped Charlie into his own bed right next to my own.
