G-Men: The Series (82 page)

Mom was getting out of the hospital today. Grandma had been taking care of Bryce at their home. Slate had been running himself ragged. I’d visited her in the hospital the day we returned, but she’d been heavily sedated. I wasn’t sure if she was even aware of my being there.

I dressed in sweat pants, which was my usual garb these days with the colostomy bag attached. At least there was only one now. I’d learned the second one was simply for the post-operative drainage. The surgeon had closed that one off a couple of days prior to my release. All I needed to do for it was to keep antibiotic cream on the sutures until they were fully healed.

Taz was a nag about all of that stuff. He reminded me of a mother hen at times, but I liked that he fussed over me. I felt safe with him. We cuddled all of the time. When we slept in his bed, he was always curled around me protectively. He didn’t let me out of his sight.

I did insist on privacy in the bathroom. I didn’t feel comfortable showering with him any longer because of the obvious. He rolled his eyes at my insistence, but I held my ground.

I pulled one of his clean FBI hoodies from the drawer and put it on. It was big, bulky and it swallowed me up, but it made me feel secure at the same time.

I brushed my hair and surveyed myself in the mirror. Most of the scars had healed on the outside. The marks from the beating Kyzer had given me with the belt had faded into nearly invisible lines. The scars inside were going to take a lot longer.

Taz had asked me several times if I wanted to talk about it with him. I had declined. I knew he thought it was therapeutic; he was a Psych major for Chrissake, but it was too soon, the memories were too raw. He told me, when I was ready, he would be there to listen. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready, and if I was, I wasn’t sure Taz would be the one I needed to tell.

He popped his head into the bedroom; he was already dressed and waiting.

“Ready, babe?”

“Yep,” I replied, smiling.

It was the first part of March and the hint of spring was in the air. It had seemed like a lifetime had transpired in the last six weeks. I was anxious to see Bryce, Grandma and my mother.

It seemed as if Bryce had grown inches when I saw him. He was running around, excited about all the attention he was getting. I figured Grandma had been spoiling him rotten since she’d been here. Mom immediately came to me, hugging me tightly to her. She seemed fine. Her pregnancy was showing.

“Oh, Lindsey,” she said, kissing my cheek, “I was so scared, honey. I’m so very sorry for the way I behaved with you. Will you forgive me, please?”

“Mom,” I said, my eyes welling up, “there’s nothing to forgive. You were under a lot of stress and you were ill. I understand that.”

“Are you sure?”

I nodded. She immediately turned to Taz.

“Trace,” she said very solemnly, “I’ll never be able to show my gratitude to you. You saved my daughter’s life. I’m convinced of that. How can I possibly thank you?”

“You just did, Sammie,” he said, giving her a warm hug.

“And what’s this Slate tells me about you leaving the bureau? That’s crazy, Taz.”

My head snapped up immediately to look at Taz.

“What?”

My mother immediately realized I wasn’t clued in.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t realize.”

“I’ll tell you about it later when we’re at home.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon catching up. Mom was still mourning the loss of one twin, but she placated herself with the knowledge that the remaining baby was no longer at risk, and her pregnancy was going to be fairly normal from here on out.

She informed everyone that she was carrying another boy. Her due date was July 26th, close to my birthday.

Grandma announced that she’d purchased a condo in Falls Church. She intended to spend more time with family. She was keeping her condo in Indy, so she could spend time there when necessary.

She was now Chairman of the Board at Banion, and hinted that she was hopeful I would consider taking an executive position with the company upon graduation. The board had appointed an interim President and General Manager on a two-year contract.

I looked over at Taz, wondering how he felt about what my grandmother had offered. He smiled, pulling me closer to him. It seemed we had some things to discuss.

Grandma had prepared a feast for dinner. It was the first time ever that all of the people I loved were gathered at the same table. Grandma said grace, thanking the Lord for making her family, once again, safe.

When Taz and I got home, I knew it was time for us to talk. We had things to figure out. He was stretched out on his lazy boy with a game on when I came out in my pajamas.

I crawled up in his lap, cupping his chin in my fingers and kissing his lips softly.

“Can we talk?”

I felt him tense beneath me. He muted the television.

“Sure, babe.”

“Let’s start with your leaving the bureau. How is it that my mother knew about that and I didn’t?”

“It’s my decision to make.”

“I get that, but why didn’t you want me to know?”

“I wasn’t purposely keeping it from you.”

“Oh, bullshit,” I said. “What’s going on?”

He was angry now, not at me, but with the whole topic of the FBI. “What’s going on is that I don’t think I can continue as an agent when my level of commitment to the bureau has been significantly affected.”

“Because of me?”

“Not because of you, per se, but because of what might’ve happened to you if I’d followed procedure, which of course, I didn’t. You would have died.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t follow protocol. I took things into my own hands, representing the bureau while I did so. I obtained warrants by the grace of one sympathetic judge, and I didn’t alert my superiors as to my actions.”

“Superiors? As in Slate?”

“For starters, yeah.”

“So, are you telling me that you got into deep shit with Slate because you saved me?”

“More or less.”

I thought back to this afternoon. Slate had been quiet. There hadn’t been the normal banter back and forth between him and Taz.

“So, what does that mean?”

“It means I can accept a formal reprimand that goes into my permanent file, take a sixty-day, unpaid suspension and pretty much kiss my dream of going into the BAU good-bye, or walk away. I’m choosing to walk away.”

“I don’t understand this. The net result was that you saved my life, captured a fugitive from justice, arrested Kyzer and killed their plans to manufacture some sort of illegal amphetamine. I would think a commendation was more in order.”

“Baby, with the FBI its black and white: the end doesn’t justify the means. It’s as simple as that.”

“But you believe in the FBI. It’s what you do! I remember you telling me the first time I was here about how much it meant to you.”

“You mean more,” he replied simply.

“Oh, no you don’t,” I snapped, getting his attention. “You’re not going to use me as your reason for walking away.”

I launched myself out of his lap and went to the bedroom. He was following closely behind.

“What the hell?” he said, his hands on his hips, staring at me.

God, I love him, but he’s not going to put this on me!

“I love you, Trace. I love what you did for me. I’m fucking glad you broke the rules, because now I can stand here and tell you in person that I love you. But, you knew what you were doing at the time, and you knew that there would be hell to pay, so pay it.”

“What if I don’t believe in it anymore?”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. This is about your pride and you damn well need to admit it. I’m not going to let you make me the reason you walked away from your career.”

He raked his hands through his hair as if I was infuriating him. The truth was, he was infuriating me. He was acting like a spoiled kid who didn’t want to take the punishment that came with the deed.

“You just need to man up,” I scoffed, knowing that statement would royally piss him off. I didn’t care.

“What did you say?”

I looked up into his blazing green eyes and smirked. “You heard me.”

He started towards me with a look on his face. I knew the look and my butterflies surged. He was going to show me how much of a man he was and I was ready. Taz and I had done nothing sexual since my injury. I needed to know that he still found me sexy, despite all that had happened. He stopped in front of me, his face softening. He pulled me against him and stroked my hair gently.

“I’m sorry, baby girl,” he said softly. “I didn’t mean to upset you with this. The most important thing is for you to get well, okay?”

He’s not going to touch me again.

I nodded against him, feeling comforted, but not sexy.

“Let me get you tucked into bed. I’ll be in after the game.”

He tucked me in, kissing my lips and turned the light out, going back to the living room. I knew he would come to bed later, when I was asleep.

This was the routine now. I realized the whole topic of sex had become taboo. I couldn’t blame him for being repulsed. I was damaged in so many ways.

^{chapter 48}

~ TAZ ~

I grabbed a beer from the fridge and settled back down in front of the television. There was a wall-mounted, flat screen in the bedroom which would be way more comfortable for me, but I couldn’t risk being that close to Lindsey.

Hell, I wasn’t even sure what I was watching on television. It certainly held little interest for me.

All I could think about was her. The little shit had gotten in my face good this evening. She told it like it was, and she was right. All I’d ever wanted to do was be an agent. I loved the bureau. It was my passion.

I couldn’t get past the part about Slate writing me up, though. I’m sure Sammie didn’t know, but even if she did, it wouldn’t have made a difference. He was obligated, as my senior officer, to administer disciplinary action, when required. I’d clearly broken procedure even after he’d warned against it.

Did I regret it? Hell, no. Would I do things any differently if faced with the same situation? Hell, no. Was it Slate’s responsibility to treat me the same as any other subordinate agent? Yes, it was.

I thought of how fired up Lindsey had gotten with me earlier, and I had to smile.

She’d given me one of her haughty “I dare you” looks and I’d nearly toppled on top of her to show her just how good I could man up. I had to remind myself that she was fragile right now. I couldn’t do anything that might trigger a memory of what that sick bastard had done to her.

Lindsey had made no overtures with me for sex. I knew she was self-conscious about the colostomy bag. The doctor had told me that we could resume sex. Kyzer hadn’t damaged her female parts. I just wasn’t sure how much other stuff he’d done to her.

She wouldn’t open up about it at all. I worried that the sight of my dick might send her into hysterics. I was at a loss as to how to approach her. I decided I would let her set the pace.

I was bored with whatever was on the television, so I shut it off. She was most likely asleep. I took a warm shower and dressed in some PJ bottoms and a T-shirt.

I crawled in bed next to her, positioning myself on my side, and pulled her in against me. I was always careful to make sure my hand didn’t touch the area near her colostomy.

I felt her stir against me. She placed her hand on my arm.

“Taz?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“Why don’t you want to touch me anymore?”

I struggled to sit up. I turned on the lamp next to the bed.

She sat up across from me on the bed, waiting for an answer.

“Hey sweetie, I want to touch you
very
much. I wasn’t sure how you felt about that. We haven’t talked about what happened to you.”

“Why do we have to
talk
about it? I just want to forget it, please?”

“I understand that, baby, but I’m not sure how you might react emotionally to the things that we do sexually.”

“So, you want me to rehash it for you? You want me to let you know that the promise was kept?”

“What promise?”

“The promise that Kyzer would never, ever touch my pussy? Remember?”

And I did remember. I remembered making her promise me that the night she became mine.

“Well, he didn’t touch me
there.
He raped me, but not there.”

“Lindsey—please.”

“No—you’re hell bent on me talking about it, so let me talk about it, okay?”

“He drugged me at the restaurant and somehow got me to Georgia in his private plane. I woke up in that dark, dank room that evening. He accused me of being a liar, and a prick-tease, so he whipped me over and over again with his leather belt while Susan watched. Then he shoved his dick into my mouth and made me suck him. Is that graphic enough for you?”

I was on my feet, pacing and raking my hands through my hair.

“Lindsey, stop.”

“No! I’m going to tell you everything. Susan sucked him off in front of me. He told her he was finishing inside of me. He rammed it into my backside over and over again. I begged and pleaded with him to stop, but he didn’t. I prayed for death in those moments. I would’ve welcomed death. I knew I was bleeding when I blacked out. I heard him say something about it to Susan. They didn’t care. They left me there bleeding.”