A Mended Man (The Men of Halfway House Book 4) (9 page)

Focus, but don't lose focus.

Easier said than done.

Two weeks later

Aidan closed his eyes as he placed a gentle kiss to Jessie's forehead. Today was his forehead, but he'd mix it up with each cheek as well. Sanity commanded he maintain a routine. Each morning he'd wake, read Jessie the news from the morning paper, and then take a quick shower in the hospital bathroom to start his day.

Two weeks, he had watched the man he loved lie motionless on the hospital bed. The swelling had significantly gone down on his face and the bruises had transitioned from rich maroons and purples to browns and yellows. He had a thin scar cutting through one of his eyebrows and another he would be able to easily hide under his hair at his temple, but overall, the doctors had been right. The swelling in his brain had receded and his body was healing. The two broken ribs were mending on their own and the incision from the splenectomy was, thankfully, free of infection. Jessie now had a small titanium plate with screws for his broken wrist and a few plates and screws in his leg. All the surgical points were healing well so they were able to restrict any movement with full casts on his arm and leg. He would end up with a scar on both his leg and wrist from the plate implants, but supposedly, all the hardware would help him mend faster and better than a traditional cast alone. At least that was what they kept telling him.

Over and over.

They awaited the umpteenth round of medical results. If all went well, they'd finally ease Jessie out of the medical coma. Anxious didn't begin to summarize the jumble of nerves twisting his stomach on a daily basis, more so lately while he waited for the last set of results so they could finally test his breathing and get him off the ventilator. He was tired of hearing the rhythmic swooshing sound of that fucking machine and the consistent hum of oxygen flowing through it.

But
not
hearing those sounds would be far worse. Even he recognized the logic in that.

He hung the used towel back in the hospital bathroom then sat at the small round table that he'd repositioned next to Jessie's hospital bed. Hunter had kept him steady and grounded, but Aidan had to send him away after a few days. There was no way he could risk Hunter's safety any longer. He was more determined now than ever to wrap up Cam's case and get them back home. He flipped open his laptop and checked his email. He busied himself with work, either another file in Cam's case, a cold case requiring more research than the task force cared to contribute, or he'd Skype with the team to brainstorm on leads with current cases. His captain was right, he needed to work, anything to keep his focus off the what-ifs that plagued his mind—especially knowing they hadn't been able to find and arrest Michael Johnson. He had yelled at the detectives and had again been reprimanded by his captain. Harry had been understanding, far more than he would have ever imagined, but Aidan had to work to control his anger.

The anger that nearly boiled over to the point of no return when the captain informed him they had to pull the uniformed officer from Jessie's door after that first week. They could no longer justify taxpayer dollars for a guard. Aidan had nodded, then exited his captain's office, refusing to utter another word. He then contacted an old Marine friend of his and hired him to stand guard at Jessie's door. Someone who didn't need a weapon to do some damage.

Seeing Jessie slowly improving, at least…put his mind at ease. Jessie was his priority. And making sure he was safe while he recovered was imperative. But he needed to work. Work had played a critical role in maintaining his sanity in the last two weeks. Seemed his captain did know him well after all. He wouldn't admit it openly, but he loved the Skype chats and agreed the team had made great strides. Except for Manny. The guy was just a fucking prick who took too much pleasure in delivering an occasional homophobic jab.

"Good morning, Aidan," the nurse said when she entered the room.

"Morning, Nancy."

He knew them all by name—all the nurses, doctors, techs, and random staff who entered the room. Regardless of the guard posted at the door, no one neared Jessie unless they were cleared by him. Hunter had been right. Aidan had planted virtual roots in the room during the last two weeks and refused to leave for more than an hour or two at a time but only if Cole swore to stand by Jessie's bed until he returned just in case there was any change.

He scanned his emails and responded to the most critical ones.

"Did you read him the news already?"

Aidan nodded. "I even managed to sneak in a little of the entertainment section."

"I'm sure he liked that."

"Has Dr. Green arrived yet?"

The nurse shook her head as she checked the monitors and jotted notes in Jessie's chart. "Not yet, but we're all on alert for when he does," she said, looking over her shoulder as she swapped out the IV bag from the pole.

Aidan returned his focus to an email from his captain. Another conference call today with the team in—he looked at the wall clock—fifteen minutes. He quickly responded, acknowledging the call, and downloaded the attachments to review. He responded to another message from his friend at the bureau with an update on Cameron's case. He absently glanced up to look at Jessie, closely watching Nancy adjust the pillows under Jessie's head then straightening the collar of his hospital gown. A soft smile tugged at his lips. Jessie would like that detail; a crooked collar would drive him nuts. He identified the two new markers he'd use until someone moved Jessie again. Markers that would let him know if Jessie shifted in the slightest. The tip of the "S" of the logo on the headboard just above his left ear and half of the "R" just past his right ear. He nodded to himself with the mental note and resumed typing his email reply.

"Have you had your coffee yet?" Nancy asked.

"Not yet," he responded, pecking away at the laptop keyboard. "Chad was in here earlier, and I haven't had a chance to grab it yet." He still didn't feel comfortable leaving anyone alone with Jessie. Even though the physical therapist who came in several times a day for a few minutes at a time to work Jessie's limbs was helpful, he had major trust issues until the attacker was officially caught.

Nancy pressed the call button. "Amy, can you bring in the cup for Mr. Calloway."

"Be right there," the perky speaker voice responded.

"That's not necessary, Nancy. You already do so much for him. I'll grab a cup from the vending machine as soon as I finish responding to my email."

Nancy crossed her arms. "Nonsense. Besides, Amy made a coffee run this morning and she brought you a cup. But she knows better than to sneak in here until after you've finished your shower."

"Will she ever forgive me?" That was the last time Aidan took a shower in the hospital room without taking a change of clothes with him into the bathroom. Emerging from the bathroom with a sliver of a towel that barely covered his bits in one hand and a cocked gun in the other was enough to initially terrify the nurse and subsequently trigger a wave of giggles that still lingered in his wake when he walked down the hallway.

Nancy waved her hand, shooing away his comment. "The nurses love to gossip about you. They think you're the sweetest man to walk the face of the earth the way you watch over him."

"I've been called a lot of things, sweet isn't one of them."

"Maybe no one dares call you that to your face."

"Maybe." Aidan looked up from the laptop screen with a half smile. He liked Nancy. Jessie was always the first patient she checked in on at the start of her shift and the last one before she left the hospital. That scored her some major points in his book.

A soft knock sounded at the door. Amy entered and walked over to Aidan's table, handing him a super-sized cup. "Extra hot, quad shot, white chocolate mocha. Just the way you like it."

He took the cup and sipped from the opening in the lid. He'd downed enough of the liquid caffeine fuel in all varieties throughout his life—from the plain, bitter, tasteless tar to the gourmet homegrown beans that shot a jolt of adrenaline straight into a vein. He didn't care if it was straight up caffeine or some fancy-pants blend of java, but for some far-off and silly reason, drinking a blended coffee always reminded him of those days when Jessie would bring him one of Cam's latte art drinks from the diner so long ago. It was silly, but anything to keep that connection with something Jessie-related was all that mattered. "Mmm. Perfect." He reached over to his wallet.

Amy waved him off. "Gift from the nurses. We're all anxiously waiting for Dr. Green's news because we all want to meet Jessie," she finished with a blush then turned to leave the room.

Aidan took a sip of the liquid heaven and moaned, sneaking a glance at Nancy who watched him with a smile.

"See, you're sweet."

"Only because I'll be on a sugar and caffeine high after this," he said with a quiet laugh.

Nancy finished making her notations in Jessie's chart then exited the room.

He stole another glance at Jessie, making a mental note of the unchanged place markers. He blew out an exasperated breath. Soon, hopefully soon. He could only keep his shit together for so long before something would give. He glanced up at the wall clock and still had a few minutes to spare before the scheduled call. He pulled out the files for the two cases they were ready to discuss and made a few notes. Maybe things would be timed perfectly. Maybe he'd wrap up the call and the doctor would arrive with the test results and finally give him the news he'd been anxiously waiting to hear for two weeks. He could hope. After all, without hope to tether him to his sanity, he would have lost it long ago.

* * * *

Aidan jerked his head upward after having nodded off. He rubbed his face and leaned forward, digging his elbow into the bed again and resting his head in his hand. He willed Jessie to move. Something. Anything. He laid the palm of his other hand against Jessie's fingers and tucked his thumb under Jessie's palm, hoping to detect the slightest movement if Jessie's fingers twitched at all.

Dr. Green had stopped by for his visit and delivered the news they had anxiously awaited. Finally, they were weaning Jessie off the meds. They'd tested his breathing and all went well enough to finally remove the breathing tube. Now, here they were, days later, and still nothing other than the unnerving silence now that the whooshing and rhythmic clicking of the ventilator was gone.

He cleared the sleep from his throat. "Do you remember the first time we met?" he asked, not expecting to hear an answer but still not losing hope that Jessie would jump into the conversation.

He hated the way his voice echoed in the solitary room. He usually couldn't handle the heart monitor beeps reminding him of how much time he took to compose himself between bouts of his one-sided conversations. He'd silence the beep while awake then switch it back on when his eyelids weighed too much and demanded he steal a few hours' sleep to recharge. Only then could he handle the rhythmic sound that would alert him if anything changed in Jessie's heartbeat. Talking to Jessie seemed to soothe him and keep his emotions in check, even if having one-sided conversations were the first outward sign of his deteriorating sanity.

He absently stroked Jessie's hair as he spoke. "I remember as if it were yesterday. I couldn't take my eyes off you. And the funny thing is, I don't even remember what you were wearing." He huffed out a weak laugh. "Me, a detective, unable to remember what the hell you wore. I'm guessing a suit, but I can't remember which one." He continued to softly stroke the hair away from Jessie's forehead. His hair was longer than Aidan ever remembered it being in all the time he'd known him, or maybe it was the absence of any hair product that usually kept everything neatly in place. The uneven hair growth now shadowing Jessie's face would probably result in a gasp or scowl, but he didn't want to risk shaving him until all the swelling was down and most of the bruises faded. No way would Jessie be out in public unpolished. He smiled to himself, gently stroking the soft, dark hair against Jessie's temple, watching the peacefulness in his expression. The tousled, messy look suited him well.

"I couldn't tear my eyes away from your face."
I still can't
. "You were talking with Hunter at that storage unit where you guys had just sorted through Lydia's files, and you had this huge smile that brightened your entire face. Then, something changed. The smile evaporated and your eyes were different when you heard my truck pulling up. The way you looked at my truck, your eyes, they were…haunted. As if you were weary…scared and guarded about something. I remember wanting to hurt whoever or whatever had caused that. Just as much as I want to hurt the man who did this to you, who put that haunted look back in your eyes when I saw you sitting on your bed with that broken angel in your hand." He rhythmically stroked his fingers through Jessie's dark hair as he continued to talk. "You didn't take your eyes off my truck, probably wondering who the hell was in that dark SUV. I noticed you took a step closer to Hunter, inching behind him for cover. But when I stepped out, and you saw me, you…relaxed and that haunted look in your eyes disappeared. Almost instantly. Then you smiled."