Steele: Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3 (31 page)

BOOK: Steele: Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3
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I wiped my eyes quickly and then again. Looking back at Delaney, I said, “I have to stay with her.”

She looked at her watch then slowly smiled. “You’re lucky visiting hours are starting in a little while. You are absolutely not to disturb her though.”

“I won’t.”

“I’ll have the orderly bring you a blanket and pillow. The chair in the corner folds out. Best you get some shut-eye while you can, don’t you think?”

“Will do, doc. Thank you.”

I spent a few more minutes with Ashe, watching her chest rise and fall, ignoring the thick bandage around her head and the other across her stomach, causing a lump in the sheets.

Kissing her cheek again, I pushed my fingers through hers. “I’m not going anywhere, but I’ve got to tell everyone you’re all right. I’ll be right back.”

Banging into the waiting room, I made my way straight for Cara and hunched down in front of her. “Your mom’s going to be okay. She’s out of the woods.”

Cara launched herself at me, and I stood with her in my arms. She clung to me, crying against my neck. It was enough to make my throat thicken with new tears.

Everyone talked over each other as the news spread, their relief evident in the voices rising in what had been an almost silent room.

“She’s going to be asleep for a couple days, Cara, so she can start feeling better.”

“I knew you’d take care of her.”

Knuckling beneath my eyes, I slid into a chair. “So you get your choice of Mt. Pleasant’s finest for the day. And you better go straight to bed after you eat some breakfast. Uncle Nick and Auntie Cat or Uncle Boomer. I’m gonna stay here until they kick me out later, if that’s okay with you.”

“You stay. I don’t want Mom to be alone.”

“So who’s gonna be your nanny for the day?” I asked.

“Uncle Boomer, for sure.”

“Hey. What about me?” Cat asked.

“I got to hang with you guys yesterday. I figure it’s Boomer’s turn to find out how awesome I am.”

That’s my girl.

“So I’ll text you in the morning. Oh wait, it is morning. Shit.”

“I won’t tell Mom you said that.”

I tweaked her braid. “Brat. I’ll call the school. You’re staying put today.” I passed her off to Boomer, and Cara looked so tiny next to his hulking mass. “You got her all right?”

“Hey, just call me the manny. Think I can handle a third-grader.”

He has no clue.

“I’ll pick you up this afternoon, okay? Then we’ll go home. I might call the babysitter so I can come back in the evening, but I’ll be home before you go to bed.”

I bent to kiss Cara on the forehead then ran through a list of Cara’s favorite things to Boomer. “Don’t forget to feed her,” I added.

“Look at you, Mister Mom.”

“Try it, you might like it.” I joked. Then it hit me like a wrecking ball. Ashe hadn’t just been kidnapped and beaten and abused. She’d lost a baby. Our baby. My knees nearly buckled from the weight of new pain. I cleared my throat roughly and patted Cara on the head. “Hey, Cara, why don’t you go say goodbye to Cat?”

She scrambled away, and I drew Boomer closer. “Somethin’ I gotta tell you.”

“What is it?”

“Ashe was pregnant. We didn’t know. She had a miscarriage because of the injuries.” My throat worked to swallow. I stared at the harsh fluorescent lights to burn the tears away.

Boomer’s face crumpled before he pulled me against him. “Oh, man. Fuck, Brodie. I’m sorry.”

“Me too. You have no idea.” At least his brotherly hug comforted me. “One other thing. They put Ashe in a coma because of her brain swelling.”

Boomer jerked back. “You said she was fine!”

“She is. The doc really thinks she will be. But she won’t be awake for a day or two, and I don’t want Cara to worry.”

“I’m on it. Get some rest. You look like shit.”

“Ditto that.”

We bumped fists, and as he ambled away with Cara I called out, “Hey. Love ya, Cara.”

Without breaking stride she tossed back, “Love you too, Brodie.”

I didn’t waste any time getting back to Ashe’s room. After giving Sipowicz the low down on her condition, I asked everyone to go home. They’d be better off visiting the next day.

In Ashe’s room, someone had unfolded the ugly-ass chair and left me a stack of blankets and a pillow. The only place I wanted to be was curled up at her side so I made use of the other chair instead, the hard plastic one beside her bed. I laid my head near her shoulder.

The monitors beeping with every heartbeat soothed me. I got it now. What Nick and Cat and his folks had felt in a similar room with Miss Myra. The constant whir and noise of machines meant Ashe was holding on.

And so was I.

Chapter Twenty

Stolen Heart

 

 

 

THREE MOTHERFUCKING DAYS.

I hadn’t been able to stay at the hospital around the clock like I wanted to. For one thing, there were visiting hours to adhere to. I also had to do the carpool thing with Cara—me driving Ashe’s Volvo would’ve been hilarious in any other situation.

I wanted Cara’s life to continue as normally as possible. So I showed up at Chrome and Steele a few hours a day, was Poppa Limo Driver for the kids, and also head chef, homework-checker, and the goodnight guy. Someone was with Ashe if I couldn’t be there. A friendly cop or one of the MC dudes. Cat or Boomer. Davies, who I hadn’t wasted after all. I bet they drove the ever-loving shit out of Ashe, talking to her for hours on end. Maybe she wouldn’t remember any of it. Or maybe she’d curse me a blue streak when she woke up for subjecting her to such torture. I hoped for the latter.

Every spare moment I was at the hospital. At first I talked to Ashe. Then I read to her. Then I started playing Cara’s crap music, which we’d always laughed about. During those three never-ending days, I brought Cara to see her, too. We sat beside her bed and loudly went through Cara’s homework, purposefully getting all the answers wrong in the hopes we’d piss off Ashe enough she’d miraculously wake up.

She didn’t.

Dirk, on the other hand, was released from the hospital. He was headed to prison: signed, sealed, and delivered. Abduction, assault and battery on a police officer, gross bodily harm, and murder one added to the long list of his illegal activities. He was going down. South Carolina still did the death penalty for aggravated murder. Eye for an eye. For Leta. For Ashe’s—
our
—baby.

“Mr. Steele! Mr. Steele! She’s awake,” Candy Stripe shouted from the nurse’s station as I stalked past.

No, really, her first name was Candy. I’d made sure to get in good with the orderlies and nurses when one day of forced coma became two and then three for Ashe.

“Did you hear me, Mr. Steele?” Candy Stripe called out.

Hell yeah, I’d heard her. My boots squealed on the tile floors as I took the corners like rails in a racecar. I sped into Ashe’s room then jerked to a halt.

Sitting up in bed, she blinked at me with her big beautiful gray eyes. She was minus the head wrapping and a whole lot of tubes, the last network of machines humming quietly.

“Oh fuck, Ashe.” I walked on legs gone weak, sliding next to her on the bed. “Oh, babe.”

Her hands fluttered through my hair before resting on my shoulders. “Brodie,” she cried out as I pulled her against me.

We did nothing but lie there, holding each other for minutes I never wanted to end. Her eyes open. Her body warm. Her heart beating against my chest.

“I thought I’d never hold you again.” My voice broke, and I buried my face in her neck.

Ashe snuffled against me. “I was so scared, Brodie.”

“Me too.”

She pulled slightly away, her trembling hands skimming the hair back from my face. “You came for me.”

“Not soon enough.”

“I . . .” Ashe stiffened in my arms. She covered her mouth with her hand. Tears escaped down her face. She shook her head, looking away from me.

“What, babe? What is it?”

“They told me about the pregnancy. I’m so sorr—” She choked off, her sobs starting to swell.

“Don’t you ever apologize to me for that, Ashe. You hear me?” She broke my damn heart as she sat there crying, apologizing for something beyond her control. “Never.”

“But you told me you want to be a father. And I was reckless. I almost lost you, lost Cara. I lost our baby!”

“Not your fault.” I held her face between my hands. Her tears ran over my fingers as pain mingled with sadness on her features.

I grabbed the box of tissues and gently wiped her face, careful with the bruises still mottling her skin. “I do want a family. I want a kid. I want a wife.” That was all I’d thought about while she’d lain unconscious, feeling like she could slip away from me any second.

Ashe sat straighter, shoving my hands off her. “Oh, I see. Bet you couldn’t wait for me to wake up so you could tell me, huh? This is too much for you, isn’t it?” Motioning to the monitors and the hospital bed, she lashed out at me. “And I’m not enough for you.”

“Babe, you need to calm down. You misunderstood me. You’re hurt and afraid—”

“Don’t tell me what I am, goddammit! I know what I am. A failure!”

“Fucking hell, Ashe. Don’t you get it?” I brought her hands to my chest, staring into her tear-filled stormy eyes. “I love
you
. I am in love with
you
. Your career is not a choice. I get that. It’s who you are. And you’re not a failure. You’re amazing. I respect you. I honor you. And I’ve been worried sick about you. I can’t think straight, I can’t see straight when you’re not around.” Moving my hands to her neck, I tilted her face up. I brushed my mouth over hers. “It’s
you
I want as my wife.
You
as the mother of my children. If you weren’t so fucking stubborn I’d ask you to marry me right now.”

She gasped against my lips. “You can’t—”

“I can. I can say all those things because they’re true. But there’s something else we need to think about.”

“What?” Pulling away, she frowned.

“We signed the next of kin stuff when I moved in, but what happens to Cara if—God forbid—something like this happens again? We need to legalize some shit so I can take care of her, because, Jesus Christ, you could’ve died.” Saying the words hit me so fast and hard, I almost crumpled over her. I had to bite my lips and swallow furiously before I could go on. “I thought you were going to die.”

“Oh, Brodie . . .”

“I’m only going to say this once, then I’m going to move on. We’re going to move on. But you really scared the crap out of me, Ashe. I don’t know what I’d do if you died.”

“Yes, you do, Brodie.” She caressed my jaw, smiling briefly at me. Her gray eyes were glassy but deep as an ocean.

“No.” I shook my head.

“Yes, you do. Because I already put it in my will. You are Cara’s legal guardian.”

I brought my fist to my lips, swallowing convulsively.

“I didn’t want to freak you out or anything,” Ashe said.

“Not freaked out.”

“We can talk to Cara about this, make sure she knows you’re a permanent part of her life.”

“Let’s do that.”

“So I’ll tell you what you’d do if I died, Brodie.” Ashe smiled softly, stroking my neck. “You would mourn me, then you would take care of Cara. Because you are so strong, and you’re already an amazing father.”

“Promise me that will never happen.” My voice cracked.

Instead of answering, she pulled me into her embrace. Wrapped around each other, we let go of the most intense emotions—pain and fear, blame and guilt. We remained on that small bed until love and hope and relief started to replace the horrific memories and began to heal the aching scars.

****

Ashe stayed in the hospital another few days before they would release her. Making a full recovery—emotionally and physically—was going to take some time. She’d undergo counseling and psych evals before returning to detective status, but Sipowicz swore he intended to make full use of her brain power on unsolved cases while she was on the mend. He and I both knew she was the type who needed to be in the thick of things to feel useful.

The chief wasn’t half bad—polyester suits and all. I’d taken to giving him, the MC, Stone, and just about everyone else in Mt. Pleasant daily reports on Ashe’s convalescence.

The fractured ribs needed time to mend, but her stitches came out. The scarring would be minimal, and the swelling and bruises had begun to fade.

The first time she’d looked in the mirror, she didn’t even wince. Patting her hair like she’d just had it blown out, she’d slanted a smile at me. “Maybe I could start a trendy new look?”

I’d nuzzled the side of her neck. “We’ll call it
street chic
.”

She was beautiful—nothing would dim her flame—but every so often I caught her staring off, absently rubbing her belly. I tried not to think about what Dirk had done to her. I decided if he were ever pardoned, I’d pay him a visit with my gun.

The day the doctors signed out Ashe, I rolled a wheelchair into her hospital room. She immediately groaned.

“What? I hooked you up with some new wheels.”

She gave a small laugh. It was a start.

“You think that’s funny? Get a load of this.”

Spinning it around I showed her the sick Triumph sticker I’d stuck on the back of the seat.

More laughter spilled from her. Even better.

“Now don’t let on to the nurses ’cause they’ll put
my
ass in a sling.”

Reaching up, Ashe kissed me. “Bullshit. They all think you’re hot.” She grabbed me by my shirt. “But you’re taken.”

Guiding my tongue along the seam of her lips then into her mouth, I groaned with her sweet taste I’d had so very little of. “No doubt about it.”

When I got Ashe home, I helped her inside. I paid off Amber the babysitter as Cara pulled her mom into the kitchen. Cara and I had spent a lot of time in Ashe’s absence playing the dreaded board games, going over her schoolwork, hanging out. Hell, I’d even let her have a sleepover one night with three other girls. I’d called Boomer at about ten o’clock begging him to rescue me from the fumes of nail polish and the blaring sounds of pop music. The asshole had laughed before hanging up on me.

No matter how hard we’d tried to fake it, home hadn’t been the same without Ashe.

Cara and I didn’t go all out for her homecoming with balloons and party poppers, but we did put some fresh flowers on the kitchen table. Tiger lilies. When I walked into the kitchen, Ashe held one deep orange petal between her fingertips, caressing the silky surface.

I ran my arm around her waist, rested my chin on top of her hair. “You go make yourself comfortable, babe. Cara and I have dinner covered, and it’s not takeout, if that’s what you’re thinkin’.”


Hmm
. How well you know me.” She sat at the table, her fingers sliding along the wood of it. “I think I’ll just sit here and watch in case you burn the house down.” She winked, but her lips never turned up in a smile.

A couple hours later, I ran hot water and scented oils in the tub. Returning to the bedroom, I held my hand out for Ashe. Her smooth palm fit against mine, which was heavily calloused from work. I guided her into the steamy bathroom and shut the door.

She tried to turn away from me to drop her robe, but I wouldn’t let her.

“I’m not going to do anything other than care for you. But if you think you’re going to get away with hiding yourself, you’re so wrong.”

“The bruises, Brodie,” she pleaded.

“I know all about those. They’re on your skin. I’ve seen them. They’ll fade. It’s what’s inside I care about.”

Loosening the belt at her waist, I pushed the robe off her shoulders. I looked her over slowly from head to toe before returning to her shuttered gaze. Holding her hand in mine, I helped her into the bath. Then I kissed her shoulder.

“Every part of you is beautiful. Don’t let him take that away from you.”

The black and blue contusions had turned purple. Now they were yellowing and most heavy over her flat stomach, where she’d lost something else.

Tears spiked her eyelashes as she watched me warily. I kneeled beside the tub and rubbed her favorite soap over a soft washcloth.

“I’ve always liked this spot here.” I gently caressed her collarbone. The little dip in the middle.

Her fingers relaxed from clutching the edge of the tub.

“This is a particular favorite of mine.” Using the washcloth, I circled the bottom of her breasts.

Ashe sighed and shut her eyes.

“But this is the best part.” I pressed my bare palm against her beating heart. “I love you.”

Her eyelashes fluttered as her lips spread in a small smile.

From there I washed her in silence—her legs and arms, her belly and back. I scooped water over her hair and shampooed her with long strokes of my fingers. With every touch, she relaxed a little more.

She stood on the bathmat as the tub drained, letting me dry her, no longer shrinking from my touch. I brushed her hair and helped her into sweatpants and my flannel shirt—the one she’d taken way back when in Myrtle Beach.

“I don’t know how you can wear this stinky thing.” Flicking the hem, I wrinkled my nose.

Hugging herself in the shirt, Ashe smiled. A full smile. One of the old ones. “It smells like you.”

“Like I said.” In the bedroom I started undressing then I thought better of it. “
Um
, do you want me to wear something to bed?”

“Have you ever worn anything to bed?” She maneuvered under the covers.

“I dunno. Probably Underoos when I was a kid.”

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